On one level, this bill seems like a master class in thuggish heaviosity. Down's sludgy swamp doom is at the top of the pile, supported by the grungy stonerisms of the unsubtly named Weedeater. But what the hell are the Melvins doing here? Sure, they stack post-Sabbath riffs on the stage balls-deep, and drummer Dale Crover can cave your skull in with one blow of stick on snare. But haven't they always cocked a jaundiced, sarcastic eye at the knuckle-dragging side of metal, which Down vocalist (and former Pantera frontman) Phil Anselmo has just as constantly repped at the top of his lungs? Oh, well; differences in artistic philosophy aside, this is guaranteed to be an ear-bleeding night of amplifier worship. Get thee hence.
