They interspersed new and old songs evenly. Much sweat, lovely harmonies, and powerful guitar-driven melodies capable of swooning even your dead grandmother.
For a good time, catch a Suicide Machines show ASAP. For a better time, wait a few years. They poured out a high energy rock show, five seconds at a time.
They ran through their Goth dirge classics in a blur of lights, smoke, and seductive vocals. Steele’s voice, while soothing and tranquil, was making me sleepy.
They mixed up some cocktail tunes with a psychedelic guitar groove, poured velvety vocals over upright bass, adding a dash of David Byrne experimentation.
He was quite an accomplished screamer. The music seemed like the typical chugging metalcore, but it never got boring because of the numerous tempo changes.