On the first day of Soundwave Mr. AJ gave to me, djents at a thousand dB...
Melbourne trudged along to Monday, feet grudgingly shuffling toward metal’s coveted prize, the Soundwave Festival four more working days hence. The skies were painted grey, rendering them unfilterable via Instagram, the image capture device of choice for inhabitants of St. Kilda, one of Melbourne’s semi-autonomous hipster regions. Ideally resting on the pristine foreshore, its usually picturesque vista of sun shimmering upon water, leisurely uni students wearing fedoras and peter-pan collar dresses threatened ads for cider or reasonably priced compact cars to be shot there virtually any second and without warning. Fortunately for us, the annual decent of the metalheads kept any coke-bottle bespectacled “creatives” with clunky dSLR necklaces at bay.