Behemoth – I’d happily let them babysit a puppy.
This blog post is not about heavy metal music, it’s about not judging a book by its cover. This is a tribute to the big, burly, hairy, gentle giants who worship at the altar of Metal. Pound for pound, beard for beard; these menfolk are the soundest, most mannerly bunch of guys you’re ever likely to meet. I’ve spent years going to metal venues (in Limerick and Cork for the most part) and various other types of clubs and pubs, and out of all the places I’ve been, the menfolk who inhabit the world of screaming vocals and deathly guitar distortion are among some of the nicest people I’ve ever encountered.
Having only just recovered from the most recent Siege of Limerick, held in Dolans on Sunday 8th April, my opinion remains unchanged. I know at any given time that I can arrive into a metal gig all on my lonesome, get myself a drink and watch a great gig without feeling like I’m on display in a butcher’s window – unlike some other places I could mention. Being of the more petite in stature, both my two sisters and I have all had the same experience of being lifted out of a mauling mosh pit by some seven-foot bear of a man wearing a Cannibal Corpse t-shirt who took time out of his busy schedule of laughingly pounding his buddies to a musical pulp to haul one or more of us to safety by the scruff of our necks and scolding us for putting ourselves in harm’s way.
Now, some would say I’m biased, given that I write about metal gigs and move in these circles anyway – but over the years I’ve been dragged to every type of club / pub / theme night out that’s been going on in this fair city, and I’ll rave along with the best of them if the beat is right. However, my experience has almost always been that in your average super-pub or generic nightclub of a Saturday night, each gender is treated by the other as a target, an object, an entirely separate creature from the other, all in the pursuit of getting the shift. Go to a metal gig or a metal-themed bar, and you’ll see people there who have shown up simply for the band that’s playing, the good beer, the craic and the conversations. Women are treated with far more respect than in any other places I’ve seen. Sure, you might get chatted up, but it’s all in the best of fun and delivered with that old rocker charm. Everyone’s equal at a metal gig, but us girls are definitely looked after just that little bit more.
In short, this is just my way of saying “Gentlemen of Metal; I Salute You!”