Amid the sweltering humidity of a New Orleans summer night, a small clandestine-like gathering takes place in one of the city’s best kept secrets. Far away from the hedonism and tourist-littered decadence of the French Quarter, a small inconspicuous building on Saint Claude Avenue operates as a beacon for metal enthusiasts. A polarizing sight to the historic theaters proximal to Canal Street, the dark, dingy venue has a reputation for being a must-visit locale for fans of heavy music. Extreme metal bands from across both the country and the globe routinely descend upon the location to the delight of the loyal fans who support such aggressive and fringe music.

***
2227 Saint Claude Avenue operates as a convergence point for locals. It sits at the intersection of three distinct neighborhoods east of the Vieux Carre. Amid the now gentrified streets of the upper Marigny and lower Saint Roch, the building resides only a block away from the end of the St. Claude streetcar line. The area is distinguished by its blend of newly renovated structures and business. The buzzing new business are contrasted by older buildings with much more modest, if not dilapidated and rotted, edifices.
There is a vibrant night life and much activity among the locals in the early hours of the morning. Residents can be seen speeding past on bikes, hailing taxis, or walking their dogs as one would do in any other residential district of a large city. The populace can be best categorized as Bohemian chic and urban. The word ‘hipster’ also sits squarely on the edge of one’s lips when asked to categorize most residents. And there is a distinct impression that many in the area are transplants who have ventured to the Crescent City from the far reaches of the country. Everything is distinctly New Orleans. But at the same time everything also appears to be undergoing an apparent stylistic shift indicative of something foreign or alien to the region. It is very much a hybrid of the past and present…the historic influence tinged with some contemporary paint.
Just north of St. Claude, is an entirely different story. Elysian Fields is the nearest major intersecting thoroughfare. In a sense, it is a gateway to New Orleans’ Seventh Ward. A highly impoverished collection of residencies and businesses, the neighborhood accrued a great deal of destruction following the breach of the London Canal during Hurricane Katrina. Though more than a decade ago, there are stretches of the Seventh Ward which still remain in poor condition. However, the area is still brimming with culture and a sense of perseverance among its residents. It has been home to civil rights leaders, actors, musicians, and professional athletes whose reputations and names extend far beyond the confines of New Orleans ghettos.

***
And it is here, at this cultural, racial, and economic crossroads, that I find myself for yet another show.
A non-descript white sign bears the name of what has become one of my favorite music venues in the last year: Siberia.
In short, it is a saloon which serves Polish/Slavic soul food and hosts concerts on most nights of the week. But to describe Siberia as such would be an absolute disservice to its beauty and splendor disguised by its modest setting.
The building is deceptively large. Similar to a shotgun house (i.e., narrow and very long), it seems to extend back further and further than one might initially expect. Upon walking inside, the border of the stage is located on the immediate left, while the bar runs along the right side. Consequently, the entrance results in a near-claustrophobic corridor that can be tricky to navigate if someone is approaching from the opposite direction.
A few short feet past the entrance, the venue “opens up” into a cramped dance floor similar in size to most backyard patios in a middle-class neighborhood. On a good night perhaps 75 to 100 people, depending on the girth of such patrons, can pack themselves in like concert-going sardines in front of the stage.
Behind the dance floor and bar’s end is an area usually reserved for merchandise tables. In the back right corner there is a small window with the neon letters KYXHЯ hanging above. The Cyrillic spelling operates as the label for Kukhnya, the bar’s kitchen. Kukhnya, the Russian word for ‘kitchen,’ serves the aforementioned Polish and Slavic cuisine synonymous with Siberia. Beyond the tiny eatery is a pair of double doors concealing a back room. The room is occasionally opened for larger events, but it usually serves as a place for musicians to store their gear and relax before or after a performance.
The bathrooms of Siberia are strewn with graffiti, stickers, and labels of obscure musicians of every conceivable genre. Nearly every inch of the building’s interior appears to be black, the dim lighting casting shadows on everything within reach. Aside from the stray fluorescent lights inside the Kukhnya kitchen and bathroom, most other bulbs are tinted with a red hue. In some respects, the place can look almost like hell. The tattered stage, dented bench along the dance floor, and chip wood befitting of a well-worn establishment. The hellish ambience only intensifies as music begins playing. The heat radiating from human bodies and music equipment create an almost stifling environment. Once individuals begin to move about in their cathartic and expressive manner, via moshing or slam dancing, the sight can best be described as pandemonium incarnate.

***
The headliner for the evening is an act known throughout the death metal subgenre and much of global metal community.  Formed in 1989 in Sherbrooke, Quebec, Gorguts continues to carry the maple-leaf-stamped flag of Canadian death metal along with Cryptopsy and some relative newcomers to the scene. Gorguts have seen the rise, fall, and resurgence of death metal. In that time, the band has composed a classic death metal album, created a genre-defining record, produced a phenomenal successor, disbanded, regrouped, released one of the best metal albums of the past decade, and, finally, recorded one of the most artistically ambitious tracks in the history of death metal.

***
At first glance, Luc Lemay is not the sort of person you would expect to lead a death metal behemoth such as Gorguts. He’s a portly man with long pepper-colored hair. His accompanying beard, faded tattoos, and black-rim glasses construct an image perhaps more suitable for an edgy sort of Santa Clause. With his obvious French accent and charming persona off-stage, he possesses a staunch dichotomous presence to his musical counterpart. The untamed hair falling past his shoulders, grizzled face, and hairy skin seem appropriate accompany his pleasantness and lyrics might seem just as appropriate for a harmless hippy.
But upon second look you might observe his Morbid Angel concert shirt with an indistinguishable pentagram logo. If you were to shake his hand, you might be a bit surprised by the firmness and strength of his grip. It carries the force of a man who has worked hard in his profession and labored for many years. It is at that moment that one might realize that this amiable and approachable individual is not the sort of passive and feeble poets of yesteryear.
Lemay looks you square in the eye while you speak. He is genuine with his relationship with fans and the scene as a whole. Hell, he even operates his own merchandise table…a task seldom undertaken by musicians of his artistic stature and achievement. When I request an autograph, he willingly obliges me and seems devoid of any of the arrogance bestowed upon most artists of his stature and reputability. Though not a household name among mainstream culture, Lemay is a treasure to those who dare listen to such bizarre music.
Lemay is a man of the people. In interviews and in concerts, he repeatedly displays support for the death metal community as a whole. If you were to bring up the subject of his favorite band, Death, he would gush over Chuck Shuldiner’s guitar-playing and songwriting, much as you would expect any fan to do so. As the opening band takes the stage, Lemay and his bandmates mingle among the crowd and watch the performance as if they were merely attending the show themselves and not headlining it.
Lemay is as genuine of an individual as there is left in music. As evident by his lyrics, he is a highly intelligent man well-versed in matters of philosophy and history. Although belying the name of his band, Lemay, much like his idol Shuldiner, shed the gore-laced and violent lyrics associated with death metal very early on in his career. Instead, he infused esoteric lyrical concepts involving philosophy and history so obscure that most students in college would find themselves scrambling for a textbook or Wikipedia page. 

***
Although Considered Dead (1991) is a classic death metal release in its own right, it fails to demonstrate the technical musicianship of later Gorguts releases.
By 1993, the band released Erosion of Sanity. A monumental display of technical death metal and brilliant musicianship, the album seemed to be Lemay’s attempt to channel the musical evolution which was occurring in Death during the same period of time. Lyrical matters became less violent and grotesque and musicianship became more complex and advanced. However, Gorguts were one of the latecomers to the death metal scene. And being one of the only Canadian groups of significance also operated as a handicap to the band in many respects. As the classic death metal sound and style began to wane in concurrence with the ascent of alternative music and nu metal during the mid-90s, Gorguts were left to ponder, “What next?” And much like Shuldiner and Death, Gorguts would undertake a major stylistic shift in the latter part of the decade to stay ahead of their contemporaries.
The band was dropped from Roadrunner Records in 1993, and saw the departure of Sylvain Marcoux and Stephane Provencher. Guitarist Steeve Hurdle and drummer Steve Cloutier soon joined the band and began work on the next release. Both musicians would prove to be integral parts of the songwriting process for the upcoming record. By the end of 1993, Lemay and his bandmates had nearly completed the material for what would be their next album. Gorguts frustratingly shopped demos of the record to a number of potential labels, but to no avail. Music executives unwilling to take a chance on what they perceived to be such a bizarre sound consequently delayed the album’s release until 1998. Olympic Recordings eventually agreed to put out the album in June 1998, two months before Death’s The Sound of Perseverance was released.
And so, Obscura was unleashed unto the world. In what can only be described as the pinnacle of 1990s death metal, Obscura surprisingly did more for heavy metal than just about any other album from that era. With its irregular time signatures, alternate picking, dissonant guitar work, discordant harmonies, and atonal flirting, Obscura defined avant-garde heavy music for years to come.
Despite being an extremely challenging listen and as inaccessible of a record as any in metal, the album becomes a highly enjoyable experience once you are able to wrap your mind around its eccentricity and bizarreness. Nothing about Obscura is conventional, whether it be the sound or the disturbing album artwork of pig-headed figure seated in the lotus position, enshrouded in darkness.
Within less than three years, Gorguts revealed another colossal release: From Wisdom to Hate. The 2001 LP proved to be a continuation of Obscura’s otherworldly sound. New drummer Steve MacDonald proved to be yet another masterful percussionist perfect for the band’s chaotic sound and tempos. Unfortunately, MacDonald committed suicide the following year. Gorguts disbanded shortly after in 2005 as Lemay and Hurdle eventually formed a project called Negativa. Hurdle would later die of surgical complications in 2011.
In 2008, Gorguts reformed as Lemay began writing new material for the first time in seven years. Lemay recruited the services of three new musicians. Guitarist Kevin Hufnagel, bassist Colin Marston, and drummer John Longstreth soon joined the band and begin rehearsing Lemay’s new material.
In 2013, Colored Sands was finally released. Regarded by some in the metal community as one of the greatest comeback records ever, the album became an instant classic among death metal fans of both past and present. A concept record revolving around Tibet, Colored Sands is named for the sand mandala, which is part of Tibetan Buddhist tradition. The album incorporated symphonic string orchestration and unique guitar tones which were previously unheard of on Gorguts’ records. Colored Sands represents Lemay’s matured and refined songwriting.
Few bands who have released material for nearly three decades have managed to continue to appease fans with each release. Gorguts is one of the few bands who manages to be artistically uncompromising and yet still attracts new fans while retaining older supporters.  
The 2016 EP Pleiades’ Dust marks the latest installment in Gorguts reputable discography. The thirty-three minute-long single track can at worst be described as ambitious and at best be labeled as a masterpiece. Molded from the same style of Colored Sands, the album is a concept release related entirely to the history of an ancient library in Baghdad. Pleiades’ Dust continues many of the atmospheric approaches of its predecessor. Whereas Obscura had little opportunity for the listener to catch their breath and process what was occurring, Pleiades’ Dust is a pleasant listen which seems to borrow from the intertwining of beauty and aggression prominent in the music of acts such as Gojira and Opeth. The album has a superb blend of sonic lulls and booming, thunderous fury. Though Lemay’s harsh vocals and down-tuned guitars might dissuade those unfamiliar with such sounds, there is still something to observe for any of fan of brilliant musicianship.     

*** 
Shortly after midnight, the moment finally arrives. Gorguts takes the stage and begins tuning their instruments. This is a unique trait of Siberia. It is a seldom seen occurrence for a significant headliner to be seen tuning their instruments and warming up in front of a crowd. Despite the somewhat elaborate process, fans seem unfazed by the slight delay and erupt in cheers once the lights dim.
By this point in the evening, there are perhaps only 50 individuals present. The overwhelmingly male crowd is tightly gathered in front of the stage. A handful of long-time fans seem eager for the show to begin as others appear curious to hear Gorguts for the very first time.
The opening acoustic track from Considered Dead plays through the speakers as Lemay, Hufnagel, Marston, and the newest member Patrice Hamelin finalize their preparations. Suddenly, the band tears into “Stiff and Cold,” a classic death metal track from their debut album. The plodding tempos and rancid vocals sound befitting for the Florida death metal scene of the late ‘80s and are a stark contrast to Gorguts’ later work. Next on the setlist is the titular track from the band’s sophomore record, The Erosion of Sanity. The tempos become a bit more chaotic and frantic, as Hamelin does an excellent job pacing the band throughout the frenzied track. Lemay’s distinct growls become less Obituary-tinged, and both guitarists trade Grade-A Canadian licks and riffs throughout the song.
Lemay is already saturated in sweat from both the mid-summer heat and his rapid guitar playing. His seven-string instrument is smeared with streaks of perspiration pouring out from his right arm. Musicians of most other disciplines would likely already be panting from the almost inconceivable cadences associated with death metal. However, Lemay and his veteran cohorts are well-conditioned for the velocity and sheer volume of notes which will pour forth from each of their instruments.
Without warning, the bizarre and iconic opening riff of “Obscura” screams out from Lemay’s amp. The floor erupts with the manic energy of fans running to and fro. Moshing erupts as bodies bounce off one another like rubber balls being hurled against a rigid surface. The occasional casualty lies dazed on the floor before being assisted to his feet by fellow moshers. A young man goes sailing towards the stage, nearly knocking over Lemay’s mic stand. Hamelin gives his best effort in coordinating the abrupt time signature shifts as Lemay and Hufnagel brilliantly display some of the most bizarre finger tapping and pull-off sequences ever composed.
The moshing seems to end almost as quickly as it began. Those in attendance now seem unable to conceive the unconventional playing, as they simply stand in awe of the performance. Clearly, this is not the sort of death metal show that many were expecting.
Continuing the chronological progression of their discography, Lemay and Hufnagel begin the almost surreal guitar riff of From Wisdom to Hate’s opening track: “Inverted.” Listening to the riff from “Inverted” is an almost otherworldly experience, but to see it played by both guitarists is the sort of thing which might induce a novice guitar player to put down his/her instrument for good. “Inverted” is the first song of the evening to truly showcase Hufnagel’s highly proficient guitar-playing. His solos seem flawless and possess a melodicism often foreign to death metal. The fact that he is playing everything on a customized Gibson SG is even more incredible to realize.
During “Inverted,” a presumably intoxicated gentlemen flings a handful of dollars onto the stage. Several members in the front of the crowd exchange glances, shrug their shoulders, and resume headbanging.
Next up is “Forgotten Arrows” from 2013’s Colored Sands. Though a fantastic show thus far, the quality of the performance is ratcheted up significantly due to the newer band members’ intimate familiarity with the song. “Forgotten Arrows” offers a much more melodic, atmospheric, and subdued sound from Gorguts. The instrumentation is beautifully interlaced and the feeling and emotion behind Lemay’s vocals become even more powerful. Many in attendance perhaps wrongfully assume that this marks the apex of Gorguts’ performance.
Lemay quickly switches guitars and the band does the unthinkable…they proceed to play Pleiades’ Dust in nearly its entirety, with no intermission. Every aspect of “Forgotten Arrows” is somehow improved upon. It’s almost impossible to believe that the band currently playing is the same one which opened the evening with something so seemingly antiquated as “Stiff and Cold.” Ironically, Gorguts is as responsible as any band for making the older portions of their catalog sound so archaic.
Throughout Pleiades’ Dust we are able to witness the true skill and brilliance of Marston on bass. His interludes, riffs, and capacity to match Hamelin’s drumming are quite a spectacle to witness. The gangly, pale man sporting a sleeveless Neurosis shirt often remains concealed by his lengthy hair. Meanwhile, Hamelin clearly seems most comfortable with the composition he assisted in writing. Pleiades’ Dust proves to be the highlight of the evening as every positive attribute of Gorguts culminates into a master class in progressive death metal.
Lemay dedicates the final song to the youthful and spirited guitar player of the evening’s local opener. The band returns to their ‘90s roots by playing fan favorite “Orphans of Sickness” off of Erosion of Sanity. Lemay concludes the evening with a reserved and pleasant “thank you” as the bad quietly exits the stage. The brief but intense show has now pummeled the crowed into a bloody pulp. Fans either stumble onto the street to recap the performance, filed to the bar to grab another beverage, or linger around to compliment the musicians.
It’s now 1:30 A.M….just another night at Siberia.