The one where Too Much Rock learns that stoner rock is forever.

Hooded Grave is a doom quintet from Kansas City. It is both a supergroup and just the latest iteration of a band that regularly shuffles the deck, changes its name, and quickly reassembles to stave off the difficult realities of success. Currently, they assemble behind the arcane pseudonyms of A.E. Archbishop (vocals/guitar), N. Krieg (lead guitar), J. Hayte (guitar), Seasnake (bass), and Saint Thraknar (drums). True identities are a poorly kept secret – there are no costumes, masks, or makeup. In fact, there is little in the way of stage show. Well, except for Saint Thraknar. He was the cheerleader, offering bits of banter, standing behind his kit, and rattling the heavy chains that cascaded over his cymbals. Hooded Grave is mostly about the sound – a big stoner metal explosion built on sung vocals, dank riffs, daring leads, slow rhythms, and substantial low end. The band delivered. The musicians played a new one as part of their thirty-five-minute set. The audience loved it. Hundreds of heads bobbed in unison. A few devil horns were raised. One mom streamed the entire set to Facebook. If the group keeps popping up on sold-out shows like this, stardom and the inevitable jettison of the Hooded Grave moniker can't be far off. Catch this iteration before it's too late.

Pentagram is the archetype. A pioneer of the doom genre even if its frontman finds the label useless. Formed in 1971, the band survived various line-ups, monikers, addictions, arrests, labels, and fallow periods. Today the project is led by Bobby Liebling - its sole original member. How he is still standing, no one knows, but rumors of black magic are always involved. Guitarist Tony Reed, bassist Scooter Haslip, and drummer Henry Vasquez round out the line-up now. They're also lifers despite being a generation younger than their seventy-two-year-old frontman. And that's the crux of it all isn't it? How did Liebling sound? Good. Certainly there were no soaring highs or earth-shaking lows. He looked frail, but he commanded the stage. His wild bulging eyes and trademark crazed white hair cut a striking figure. His hand frequently reached out in a clawing or grasping motion – something fans recognized and aped in respect. He was witty. And lascivious. And he had a canister of oxygen just off stage. The band around him did their work. Reed nailed the Sabbath-styled licks, bluesy bending solos, and moments of heavy metal hammering that all figured into Pentagram's sound throughout its fifty-five-year history. His chemistry with Liebling was palpable. The rhythm section was weighty, but never torpid – illustrating that the act really matches the "heavy hard rock" description that Liebling prefers over the doom metal crown that's been bestowed upon him.

Even with the two-song encore, the quartet only played for an hour. Thirteen cuts that spanned the project's entire career. Particular attention was paid to the self-titled debut and the current album, Lightning in a Bottle. This placed new ones like "I Spoke to Death" alongside classics such as "The Ghoul." Despite the forty-year gap between the songs, and the parade of members that have come and gone, the two stood side by side without missing a beat. Of course, the act saved the best for last. "20 Buck Spin" closed the night with its venomous lyrics, dexterous guitar solos, and a just nasty rhythmic foundation, driving the audience wild.

It seems that no matter the year, which musicians are there, or even what the band calls itself, stoner rock remains timeless.