It's fun knowing nothing about music. Knowing nothing guarantees you're surprised at every show. Sometimes it's a good surprise. Sometimes it's just a surprise. I wonder which it will be this time.

When I arrived at 7:15 a long line stretched down the block. It wasn't sold out when I made it in, but I reckon that came later. That was unexpected. There was still a queue when the opener began at 7:30, but those that had made it in moved toward to stage. Metal fans are like that. Metal fans will give any band a chance. If that doesn't seem right to you, you need to go to more metal shows. They're the best fans. The best.

Aprilmist are locals. I've seen them before. I bought their latest album. I know that I like them. I even know who is in the band: Jon Houst (vocals/guitar), Dustin Albright (guitar/vocals), Ben Chipman (bass), and Jeff Wymer (drums). I wasn't expecting any surprises, though based on the shirts-of-allegiance I saw in the audience, someone was going to be. The band is a post-black metal. Blackgaze. Lots of other signifiers could be tossed in, especially if one were to consider the entirety of the band's ten-year career, but those two sub-subgenres tell the tale effectively. The band's half hour set consisted of five songs. Most were long with multiple movements that shifted from oppressive torture to shimmering release. Houst generally provided the melodies via tremolo-picked lines. His vocals were gruff, but he pushed them nearly to a black metal screech. Albright offered screams and, in one song, clean vocals. He also carried most of the guitar leads. They were serious-looking dudes with long hair and adorned in black. Bassist Ben Chipman wasn't. He wore shorts. Isn't there something about no shorts on stage? He didn’t care. He smiled a lot. He enjoys his band and doesn't care if you know about it. Behind him was drummer Jeff Wymer. He also smiled shamelessly. He likes his cymbals. There was plenty of accent crash and ringing work on the bells, and plenty of pummeling double bass work too. Together the quartet rose and fell together, sweeping the audience from one emotion to another, as its lyrics explored the duality of life. But Aprilmist must have seen the same shirts in the audience that I did, and the foursome decided to close with an unexpected cover of Death's "Crystal Mountain."

Immediately after the band ended, "Easy Lover" boomed out from the PA. It's always exciting to hear what the sound engineer feels is the right vibe for a concert. I never would have guessed it was Phil Collins and Philip Bailey. Guess that’s why I'm not a sound guy.

Philadelphia act Horrendous played next. The four-piece came in hot: a fifteen-foot tall banner hung behind the drummer, amps were covered with printed shrouds, members wore tour lanyards, and the guitarists were decked with wireless rigs. I didn't recall a tour bus parked at the curb but that's the vibe I got. When vocalist/guitarist Matt Knox shouted, "How are you doing Kansas City," I was sure I had the band's number. Thankfully I didn't. Actually, I still don't.

That's because Knox and his band are a lot of things. His vocals shifted between heavy metal screams and death metal growls. His guitar leads were heady jazz fusion one moment, and melodic leads played in tandem with guitarist Damian Herring the next. That duo, along with bassist Alex Kulick, often stood at the edge of the stage, each with a leg propped on a monitor, headbanging. Not in the whip-it-around-in-a-circle death metal style, but in the bygone Monsters of Rock milieu sure to send you to the chiropractor. Knox regularly leaned on Herring as the latter played his solos – you know, just in case anyone missed Kevin DuBrow. Kulick also got Knox's loving, along with solo that highlighted his flashy style and bright lively tone. When Knox wasn't busy performing on stage he was in the audience, making the most of his wireless rig by instigating mercurial push pits. Later, he directed the crowd in a classic circle pit. With all that charisma at the front of the stage, drummer Jamie Knox was practically invisible.

After finishing the set Matt Knox surprised me by packing up his own gear, borrowing the club's ladder and climbing to its upper reaches to remove the band's banner, and then manning the band's merch table for the rest of the evening. I guess he's no pampered diva after all, but I still have no idea what categorical bucket to put his band in. Hopefully they return to give me another shot.

The night ended with Tomb Mold from Toronto. I knew nothing of the band, but the audience were full of anticipation, and that was contagious. The band is a four-piece that lines up as guitarists Derrick Vella and Payson Power, bassist Kevin Sia, and drummer/vocalist Max Klebanoff. Although Sia paced wonderfully, there wasn't much else to the band's stage show, nor was there much banter from Klebanoff. There was, however, a ferocious onslaught of progressive death. Guitarist Vella favored harmonics and bends. Power favored chugging grooves that hinted at his hardcore past. Klebanoff growled his vocals and still played percussive lines that were brutal and complex. This was especially true during "Final Struggle of Selves" from 2018's Manor of Infinite Forms that featured a big drum breakdown with disjointed guitar lines draped all around it.

As I scratched my head trying to make sense of the chaos, the audience around me watched intently. There was no pit. There were no raised fists or hands bent to devil horns. Instead, there were hundreds of fans (mostly men) just mesmerized by the band's powerful and complex music. Understanding that I was out-fanned, I packed up my camera, gave my space to the devoted, and listened to the rest of the set from the back of the room.

After 45 minutes of intensity Klebanoff announced (in an unexpectedly human voice) that the quartet had only one more song. Boos of protest rang out from the crowd. "But it's eleven minutes and pretty epic," he offered, hoping to placate the crowd. He knew what he was talking about as "The Enduring Spirit of Calamity" (pulled from the band's most recent album The Enduring Spirit) satisfied the devoted audience.

When I walked into RecordBar I knew nothing of Tomb Mold or Horrendous, and I only thought I knew Aprilmist. By the time I exited, all three acts had delivered the surprises I had hoped for.