Casbah was completely sold out for Isis. As I waited in line, I spoke to a girl that had driven forty minutes – and without a ticket – just to, maybe, catch a scalper or beg her way in. And she wasn’t the only one. By the time I finally got into the place, whose doors opened at a late 8:40, I had heard nothing but folks reminiscing over their unforgettable Isis experiences, especially that time they played with Tool, and casually comparing how quick they jumped on their tickets. These were hardcore fans, some who drove from L.A, some who drove from NorCal, other like me – who were completely amazed that Isis would be playing at such a small venue like Casbah.

I hadn’t really heard of Isis in the mainstream sense. They remain underground, and their devoted following likes it like that. There’s something unreal about the band, an element that can’t be pre-packaged and sold. I walked up to Aaron Harris, the bands drummer, and asked if he could sum up his music in a couple of sentences. He looked at me incredulously and slowly said, “We don’t really have a genre. You just have to listen.” There are two reasons that a band doesn’t claim a genre: one, they mix up everything in their musical laboratory and create a Frankenstein the world probably would have been better without; or, their music is so ahead of its time that no one has thought of a term to express it. From what I understood by talking to a couple of fans, Isis fell in the latter category, and they were considered “Ambient Metal,” a mix between Rush and Tool. Hmmm…I thought to myself, this could be disastrous, or really f*ing awesome.

The band began their set with the light drumming, a repetitive, dulling, and seductive tapping, so slow, so rhythmically intoxicating. In the background was the sound of psychedelic distortions from guitars, taking the crowd, mentally, to a far off jungle, somewhat chilling, but inviting all the same. Rapid tempo buildups characterized the transition from pure instrumentals to vocals, and I held my breath as the mounting energy took over the crowd, heightening the excitement, making my heart beat faster. At peak, when the crescendo seemed topped out, the vocalist would bellow monstrous-sounding, unidentifiable words. To give you a mental picture of what I was hearing, it was like a demonic orc-creature picked up a harp and tried to sing you a lullaby. Although the instrumentals were soothing, the vocals were demented and I felt like I was Alice in Wonderland – suck in hell, but unable to bring myself to turn back.

By the end of the show, dudes had begun to mosh, others entered into their own personal trance, and I was meditatively dancing with myself. The music of Isis is unexplainable, like that shrooms trip that you so badly want to describe, but no one will know how twisted it was unless they were there. It sucks you in, whether you want it to or not, and takes you to a land no psychedelic could ever transcend. I recommend an Isis show for those who want to escape reality, loose themselves, and enjoy a spiritual/supernatural experience like no other.