Courtesy Tony Gomez
Audio By Carbonatix
During the late 1980s, something strange and terrible happened in Bailey that has haunted stages across Denver and beyond ever since, according to the self-proclaimed local cryptozoologist Justin Lascelle, aka Professor Pizza, as he recounts the mythical origin story of his band, Axeslasher.
In Lascelle’s lore, he founded a Boobs and Blood Club in 2011 and led a group of amateur researchers into the woods to investigate a “blue mist that appears in the mountains,” he says.
Mist is normally encountered in the mountains, but to Lascelle, “it’s usually a precursor to some sort of bad thing happening here in Colorado.
“We saw a large concentration up near Mount Bailey,” which spurred the late-night mission, he continues. “As we began investigating it, we started hearing weird shit. It sounded like heavy metal.”
The veil of vapor seemed to expand and engulf the search party in a disorienting smog, as the distorted music became louder and louder. Confusion and fear followed, and the club members found themselves on one hell of a trip.
“As we followed the sound, the mist got thicker and we got lost. Next thing you know, things kept tapping us on the shoulder and appearing, disappearing,” Lascelle recounts. “Our eyes were playing tricks on us.”
The “professor” and his peers were being toyed with, unknowingly participating in an arcane ritual that ultimately unleashed an undead thrash-metal band of banshees called Axeslasher that was hell-bent on world domination and destruction.
“You know the terrible part of mushrooms before they get awesome? That’s what it felt like for a very extended period of time,” Lascelle explains, as if the event actually happened. “Eventually we found ourselves at an unlit fire pit, but with all the accoutrements to get it lit. Taking advantage of the situation, we lit the pit, and the specters of Axeslasher appeared in front of us. They grabbed us and told us their story.”
Lascelle says Axeslasher comprised “struggling human musicians” in 1986, whose sole purpose was topping Slayer‘s genre-defining album Reign in Blood, but to no avail. “They really weren’t able to get out of Bailey,” Lascelle says. “They had shows, but they were at places you wouldn’t want to see a metal show, like in a barn or in some honky-tonk bar that was not accepting of that stuff.”
Then Axeslasher’s secret headquarters atop Mount Bailey mysteriously burned to the ground in 1989, killing the five members inside. “We don’t know what set the blaze or how, but we do know that the band was killed in the fire,” Lascelle says, adding that he believes that “the people of Bailey decided to take the problem of the band into their own hands.”
The mythical headbangers were lost to history until they were officially “resurrected” online. “About twenty years later, they started appearing and using social media as a way to get their message out and tell people that Axeslasher is coming and they’re ready to kill anything that sucks,” says Lascelle, including fascism, religion and “general assholery.”
Since their actual formation as Axeslasher in 2011, the five masked members have been tearing into unsuspecting audiences with their cursed messages laden with pizza and Satan. Guitarists Lord Guillotine and Dr. Grind are ruthless riff wielders, while bassist Mr. Scissors and drummer Dr. Barbaric crush it. Then there’s vocalist Professor Pizza (plot twist!), who can possess any listener through his campy lyrics and gift of slasher-influenced storytelling.
Axeslasher will take over the Gothic Theatre on Saturday, August 12, with Potato Pirates, Eyes of Salt and Pitch Invasion.
“If you’re going to the Axeslasher show, you should expect to lose your life, first and foremost,” Lascelle warns. “It’s a very dangerous situation. I don’t really understand why the Potato Pirates asked these entities to be a part of it.”
Of course, there are precautions you should take to ensure a safe concert experience once Axeslasher plugs in, including wearing the band’s “pizzagram” hieroglyph, which is just a pentagram-shaped pepperoni pizza.
“A pizzagram is a symbol that the band developed because they felt like it matched their ethos way back in the ’80s. What’s cooler than Satan and pizza? Nothing,” Lascelle explains. “They decided that anyone who gets that is cool in their book, and safe from the death of being something that sucks.
“So if you want to survive an Axeslasher show, the first thing you need to do is go to the merch booth and get some sort of pizzagram – be it a pin, patch or shirt – and put it on,” he plugs. “That will mark you as safe, and you’ll survive the horror movie if you do that.”
If you’re feeling bold and want to tempt Axeslasher without such a safeguard, then “just run around as fast as you can the entire time,” Lascelle advises.
“They’re like T. rexes,” he says of his cryptid bandmates. “They can only see stuff when it’s standing still.”
Those who don’t respect and adhere to the weird ways of Axeslasher will be exterminated immediately, so “expect the blood of your comrades who do not understand these rules to be splashed about in the venue,” Lascelle says facetiously.
“But I’ve been told the blood does wash out with soap and water, so don’t be too afraid.”
Axeslasher, 8 p.m. Saturday, August 12, Gothic Theatre, 3263 South Broadway. Tickets are $22.50.
