Page 52 - ION Indie Magazine JanFeb 2018

of limbs from the concert-goers who were thrashing their little hearts out. Despite the sustained insanity, no
bones were broken, no blood was shed…not by me, anyway.

During the last change-over, I made it to the edge of the stage and was able to strategically maneuver a few
close-ups of the main attraction. Max strode out on stage close to 10:00 p.m. and it was as if a bomb exploded.
Those few hundred people that had packed in, pressed forward to the front of the stage. They simply lost their
minds -- and here I am with gear and camera in hand right smack dab in the middle of the mayhem. The mob
had taken on a life force of its own…and it became apparent that this might not end well for me – or my camera,
for that matter.

I shot the last those two songs, even changed lenses at one point, but enough is enough, and I had to get out
with life, limb, and lenses intact. Like a soldier marching into battle (or should I say, turning tail and going
AWOL?) -- I somehow found my way out of the throng of madness, head down and with hunched shoulders, an
effort to protect my camera gear. After all, unlike
the military, there is no “hazard pay” when it
comes to concert photography.

Despite the clear and present danger to a certain
“senior citizen” (at least by this audience’s
standards), no doubt this crowd got their
money’s worth. All the
supporting acts were at the
top of their game and I
expected and received
nothing less from
Max, as he is
the focal point
of this band
for obvious
reasons. After
all, Nailbomb,
Sepultura, and
Soulfly are not
too shabby for
a metal
resume.

Meanwhile, I
slinked off into
the night and
retreated to
the safety of
my living room
and a welcoming La-
Z-Boy…and served
myself a night cap of
Motrin and an ice pack.