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Chimaira/ETID In Exeter

Posted on February 12, 2008

Thanks to Steve Dunne for sending his review of Exeter’s show in… and indeed his photo of the stolen signed menu for our instore competition! “This is my review of the Chimaira show in Exeter that I attended last Wednesday. Please find enclosed a photo the menu I stole to have signed by the band also – for your odd shit to get signed competition! m/ CHIMAIRA IN EXETER Ahhh, yes. The day of metal was upon us. We left Plymouth somewhat early, about 12:00 to make our way to Exeter for the Chimaira show. Trains are boring. Especially when you’re sat in the í¢ä‰åñquiet zoneí¢ä‰åŒ. I use inverted commas, because it wasn’t all that quiet when we were sat there. So we get to Exeter, where we do about an hour or two of window shopping, including going to a guitar shop so I can show off playing a Zakk Wylde guitar. After this, we make a stop at the Cavern Club, a very nice alternative pub/club/gig venue across the road from Solo Records, where the signing was taking place. Now, I’ll mention this now, but since we left Plymouth, we were looking for something slightly unusual to take with us. Wet floor signs, toilet seats, dogs, ANYTHING. At the same time, all three pairs of eyes at our table descend upon the menu. One menu later, we’re off to the signing. After standing in a queue for about 25 minutes, and contemplating OTHER unusual things to get signed, including a Spandau Ballet CD, we get a chance to meet the guys. A small conversation takes place between me and Jim LeMarca, which I will transcribe here: Me: I hear you’re having a contest for the weirdest thing signed. Jim: Yeah, that’s right. Me: Cool. Sign my menu, its good eating. Jim: Yeah (studies menu). This is what I want, (circles ‘All Day Breakfast’.) The All Day Breakfast, it never ends. Me: Yeah, it’s a nice place, and like I said, good eating. Jim: I’m looking forward to some good eating of my own, you know what I’m saying, bro? The filthy letch! Anyway, we get our CDs and posters and, ahem, menu signed by the rest of the guys and head to a local drinking establishment where we’re joined by two others from Plymouth. After drinking our bodyweight in various alcoholic substances, we’re off to the gig. As soon as we get in, Every Time I Die kicks off. I didn’t watch too much of their set, as I was busy drinking, meeting other people from Plymouth and going on the traditional merchandise scavenger hunt. One shirt and beanie later, we’re sat down by the bar, when Jim pops his head round the corner and sits with us for a while. He soon leaves, and Stampin’ Ground take the stage. Good lord, this band is impressive. I decided to stay out of the pit, as I like my nose the way it is, and don’t want it to look any different. They close up their set, and then I pounce, making my way to the front of the crowd, gazelle-style. After what seemed like an eternity, the lights went down, and Implements of Destruction started playing over the PA. Out of the darkness, the band (sans Mark) enters the arena. After two or three minutes of instrumental assault, Power Trip kicks in, Mark jumps on stage and proceeds to kick everyone’s ass. After this, things start to get a little hazy, memory wise. At one point, Mark threw out a copy of The Impossibility of Reason to the crowd, which REALLY reminded me of that scene in Metallica’s Cliff ‘Em All where James Hetfield threw out a vinyl of Kill ‘Em All and everyone went apeshit. The new drummer, Ricky, amazed everyone with an absolute KILLER drum solo, which went one-handed at one point. As The Dehumanizing Process kicks in, Mark proclaims himself to be the í¢ä‰åñMetal Mosesí¢ä‰åŒ. This can mean only one thing. WALL OF DEATH! These things are insane. After everything calms down (in a manner of speaking), we get treated to some Pure Hatred, which brings the set to a close. I caught Rob’s guitar pick, which makes it 2 Chimaira gigs, 2 plectrums for me. In closing, a word of advice for all you future gig-goers. If you travel to a concert and get back to where you started BEFORE kicking-out time in the clubs, do yourself a favour and go home. Nothing brings a night down like going to a crappy club two hours after seeing an amazing band.”


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