Seattle, Warshington's He Whose Ox Is Gored may have the single most unwieldy name this side of Kowloon Walled City, but that hasn't stopped a molecule's worth of their ever-forward, momentous, dense and complex and alternatingly heavy, intricate, doomy and combination-of-those-elements output from laying waste to town after-town, like some kind of a tornado that just passed over a lead shot factory, or something.
My god is this stuff just aggro. And in a good, Jon Weisnewski/Nat Damm, kind of way. I think about Akimbo when I hear this stuff, even if it's not exactly the same vibe, it's that same type of tightness and intensity that I think's gonna be a huge treat to rage with on a Saturday night.
Dave Segal wrote a nice piece about the band here, for the Stranger. Some notes about He Whose Ox Is Gored:
1) This band officially gets the blue ribbon for persistence and patience with us at the sprawling suburban office complex that houses Total Fest. Our wait list was packed with awesome bands this year (as it always is) and our typical plan is that we hear from bands pretty soon after announcing them that somebody's quit, or their ability to tour just got upended because of a wedding or something. This year was different, and the space we typically have free up didn't occur. He Whose Ox kept in touch, booked shows on all but the final day, and even printed posters with the words Total Fest on 'em before we'd inked the deal. Remember we do this thing in our un-copious free time, and our (okay, my) communication could be better.
2) They seem to be playing at least two places with the word "shred" in the name on this tour. Apparently both Boise and Salt Lake are shred-friendlier than I would've guessed.
3) Paul was supposed to write this. -JV