To Be Eaten

Ben Pittz is a nice guy. It'd be hard to peg him as the swell kid next door, however, if the judgment were based on a To Be Eaten show, what with Pittz's thick, red dreadlocks whipping through the air as he bangs out wicked metal guitar libations between stints of growling through an un-effected microphone. It's a bit intimidating, no doubt, until the song ends and Pittz's soft, regular-dude voice squeaks in and he works the crowd with a polite "Hey, guys. Thanks for paying attention." But this is the secret charm of the balls-out, goat-horn-inducing three-piece. Lacking in theatrics or posturing, Dead Man Seize takes the band's punk roots and sticks them into the gritty, tech-savvy depths of heavy-handed hardcore. It's a crossbreed of aggressive underground cultures that gives wildly different sects of music fans a chance to headbang in the same room together. And that's just plain nice.


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