Black Elk make me thrash my whole body around, whether I want to or not. Once they get going, if I’m watching and listening, before I know it I’m thrashing. This band sounds unbelievably pissed off. I’ve decided that singer Tom Glose is a mixture of David Yow, Charles Bukowski, and another guy who hates both of those fucking assholes. Black Elk seem to be angry about a completely different set of problems than I have in my life (this is speculation, I don’t know what Glose is actually saying), but even so, they are forceful enough in the articulation of that anger that I empathize with them completely. After maybe 8 songs they called it a set, much to the chagrin of the amped up crowd. Soon people began pelting Glose with empty beer cans and chanting “Bullshit! Bullshit!” I overheard bass player Don Capuano remark sullenly, “We don’t practice enough to play more.” Hmm, could have fooled me. Eventually the band caved and made their way back to the stage for one more blistering song, satiating the small but intense crowd’s lust for blood.