COLUMN: Puke, Acceptance & Rage–Inkcarceration Day 1 review

MANSIELD — A skinny young lady with multiple-looped lip piercings was sick on Friday. She was ushered into a first-aid wheelchair and given a puke bag.

She needed it as she rolled beside the massive stone columns of The Ohio State Reformatory, aka Shawshank Prison, at the Inkcarceration Tattoo and Music Festival 2024. 

Unfortunately for her, chunks of previous meals got caught on the metal rings around her mouth upon ejection, and it was doubling the gagging gross effect. But it’s “Ink,” I’m sure people were cheering her on in a supportive way with every hurl. 

License plates from Oregon to New York could be seen in the massive, recently trimmed grass field leading to the ominous guard-tower-heavy spires of the historic prison.

Through the chain link fence, I could hear a Sponge Bob Square Pants cover, with the entire festival singing in unison. That was followed by what Marla Singer called a “death rattle,” of double bass-backed screams. 

Old prisons weren’t built with infrastructure around them – you needed to be able to see the whole perimeter and all that space was used to create the Ink festival grounds. The middle-sized Redemption stage was where patrons first walked in, down a little hill of dirt and grass patches creating a constant dust band from knees to feet. 

The early sets featured “Like Moths to Flames” and “Holy Wars,” and, dare I dad-pun say, set the stage for the whole day in terms of intensity and melody. 

Cleveland-based Chimaira performed at its first festival in 12 years on the Redemption stage, featuring a shirtless drummer with colorful double-sleeved and chest tattoos, which is practically a requirement for rock-n-roll stick masters. 

In the late ’90s, Chimaira pioneered post-hardcore into a harder, faster sound and the band was pure power. They looked like scary metal guys with dark clothes. The drum kit including a melting skeleton while the bassists, in true Cleveland fashion, wore a Browns hat.

The pit united in full force as the the crowd sang along to the open, “I hate everyone.”

There is a deep ironic secret in the metal and hardcore scene – for all the darkness and rage and contempt, you’ll never meet more chill and nice people at a festival.  This is a place of absolute acceptance where no matter your history, you can belong. 

“Well, I’m a recovering a alcoholic. I struggled with drug addiction for about 20 years, man. I moved to Louisville, Kentucky, got sober and my biggest regret was not being able to go to shows,” Ink attendee Jon Houchin said.

“I’m also in recovery and I like music and I like the people and I like to camp. So if we’re coming, we’re camping. It’s part of the experience,” Houchin’s girlfriend Molly Anderson said.

“Outsiders might get like an opinion about the kind of people that come here, but I think it’s like, you know, to experience it yourself. It’s all good people, all good vibes. Everyone helps one another, you know, everyone looks out for one another.”

Chimaira lead singer Mark Hunter referred to himself as “metal Moses” and he parted the crowd in half. When the next song started, each side sprinted into each other, colliding in the middle. 

From the Redemption, one could pass the pop up cream-colored tent of the VIP section and into the “Yard” of the prison, where the main stage was and again, grass was slowing losing the war against all the Doc Martins.

Side note: both are great, but if there could only be one, it’s knee-high boots over high heels all day. 

A shirtless man with a couple of gray-faded tattoos thoroughly searched his cut-off cargo shorts, first the front pockets, then the back, the aggressive pat down spanned all over the fabric. He looked up, slowly spun his head, then repeated the process. Happy hunting, wastoid! 

At the Infirmary stage, Veil of Maya wrapped its set, with the Romanesque Rival architecture of the prison behind. The guitarist had dark Adidas warm-up pants with pink lines down the side matching his guitar.

Meanwhile, in the crowd, a woman was staring at a guy beside me. The man next to me looked around, then behind himself – she kept gazing. Finally, he smiled back and waved and yet she didn’t move. I’m pretty sure she was blind. 

Veil had a good blend of the ruff growl vocals seen more in death metal, and some often wonder if the group is clearing its respective throats, or singing. 

Attack Attack followed Veil on the same stage and the singer had a blue shirt adorned with lobsters — it was nice to see color.

The lyrics of, “I will never fall in line to suffocate” could be viewed as a theme of the fest. 

Attack Attack unleashed a strong set, but the pull to the Biohazard performance was strong, too. 

If you’ve ever listened to a hardcore band that’s produced music in the last 15 years, you can thank Biohazard for influencing the entire scene in the ‘90s. 

Source freelance photographer Rob Stroul was shooting Chevelle while I was getting escorted to the back trailers where the top talent was located. I was scheduled for time with Dexter and Noodles of The Offspring, minutes before they were due on the main stage as one of the headliners.

(That full interview will publish later, dare I say we’re friends for life.) 

“Opposite of December” played an insane amount of time on my college record player in the early 2000s, so I was pumped for the Poison the Well show. 

It’s hard to keep the intensity going for decades, and Poison the Well did what it could. It varied contemporary and old songs and “Camp Crystal Lake” and then ended with “An Artists Rendering of Me,” the group’s best cut, with the lyrics, “I could, never, swallow your false ideals, of a, lifeless, happy ending.” 

This new generation obsession with ‘90s culture – the boots, baggy clothes, being into physical media like cassette tapes, well here ya go, a perfect real flashback to that time with The Offspring. 

Every cool kid listened to the album, “Smash.” All the youth knew every word to “Come Out and Play.” A full set review along with interview will be linked here after publishing. It was like being at the Warped Tour all over again. 

You all know that cliche, “you gotta see them live, it’s a totally different experience.” Which is 100% the case with Machine Head – so many flames from the stage – even many rows back you could feel the heat. 

“Let freedom ring with a shotgun blast!” (Entire crowd goes crazy).

Classic metal, long straight hair, even longer guitair solos, a singer asking if we still know how to headbang — it was all behind a Christian church-inspired stained glass background. 

Breaking Benjamin closed out the evening, as dusk had passed and the estimated 25,000 people smashed together for one last sing-along. 

Inkcarceration is truly a place where, for one weekend, everyone is accepted and no one gets offended. 

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