MANSFIELD — I’ve been looking for an excuse to check out Belcher’s House of Rock on Orange Street. So when I heard local metal outfit Krymzon was booked to perform I figured it was the perfect opportunity.
But as often happens, events end up overtaking you. On the night in question I instead found myself at the Phoenix Brewery with my wife, entertaining our friend Tanya who was in town from North Carolina.
The Phoenix is a great place to take visitors, but as the evening got underway Tanya expressed a desire to move on to some of the ‘alternative’ bars around downtown Mansfield.
“How about the Olympic Lounge?” my wife suggested.
I was tempted, but I wasn’t sure the regulars would be ready for me to put Duran Duran on the jukebox again and sing along from my bar stool. Two weeks in a row might be a bit much.
So we decided on Sami’s, the friendly gay bar on the corner of Fifth and Wayne. From here, sitting out on the wooden deck, you can look clean across the wastelands of the old Westinghouse site and see the bright lights of the Fourth Street Bar, shining like a beacon in the distance.
The effect is the same from the other direction. These parallel taverns are like two winking lighthouses signaling to each other across a dark expanse of sea.
Inside Sami’s, Tanya got the DJ to play her favorite song, so I did the decent thing and got up for a bit of a jig. Unfortunately, the dance floor here features a full-length mirror.
I was instantly horrified.
I don’t need a mirror to realize I’m no John Travolta, but it was a shocker all the same to look up and see a direct reflection of my feeble, half-witted bouncing. I gave it a decent interval of a few seconds and then ‘danced’ my way discreetly back to the bar.
A few songs later and it was time to move on to the next venue on our tour. I saw my opportunity to bring it all back around to my original plan, so I slammed the bartop with authority and declared: “Belcher’s House of Rock!”
As Belcher’s is just a couple of blocks away from Sami’s, it was an easy sell.
Moments later, we were walking through the door to find “brain metal” band Zuel (from Dayton) in full swing.
“Wow,” said my wife, “it’s like walking into the bar on Sons of Anarchy!”
If I’d left the house knowing I’d end up here, I would have dressed accordingly in jeans and perhaps a black t-shirt displaying something fitting, like a bloody severed head on a spike or a dead goat.
Instead, I was wearing khaki trousers and one of my floral Hawaiian shirts. All things being equal, my entrance should have set off some kind of alarm and initiated the emergency sprinkler system.
But not one comment did I get, not one mocking up-and-down look. Yes, there are some big dudes here with bald heads and impressive facial hair, but I found the atmosphere relaxed, accepting and non-judgemental. There is moshing, and there is spilled beer, but nothing to stop the friendly good time.
The stage is the most basic kind, dark and grubby, just a few inches from the ground, like a flaccid black tongue at the back of the bar room’s mouth with just enough space for the band.
It’s loud, as you might imagine, but not uncomfortably so. I didn’t suffer the unsettling sound like ripping fabric in my ears that I’ve experienced at other, louder shows, perhaps an early sign of tinnitus.
Still, as I tell myself in these situations, Pete Townshend went through much worse.
Krymzon, the headliners, came on at 12:30 a.m. My wife and her friend were long gone. The crowd had actually thinned a bit at this point so I was able to get right in front of the band. I’ve never seen a fast, thrashing metal outfit at close quarters and I was astonished at the speed and accuracy of lead guitarist Joey VanDine’s playing: his hand was literally a blur in front of my eyes.
The music was a model of cranked-up simplicity complemented with powerful vocals from frontman Ron Wise, but on the lyrics I can offer no comment. Apart from the cheerfully-uttered obscenities between songs, I found every word to be indecipherable.
Not that I’m complaining; one gets the general gist. I mean, it sounds like Lord Beelzebub and all his Devoted Minions on Earth are being praised, and surely that’s enough. For all I know the songs could be about how to make a nice cup of tea or the finer points of flower-arranging.
And why not?
Of course it’s not for everyone; this isn’t where you come looking for the clink of cocktail glasses and quiet background music. But Belcher’s is a great pocket of rowdy entertainment and, as I discovered, it’s not just open for shows. It’s a regular bar open throughout the week, with Jam Night on Thursdays and Sundays and Karaoke on Fridays.
I’ll be back.
Belcher’s House of Rock is at 185 Orange St, Mansfield, Ohio. Check out Krymzon online at https://www.reverbnation.com/krymzon
