It’s the beginning of October. My expectations of the fall season have waned with disappointment over the years. In the past, it was a little chilly around this time. These days it is quite the opposite. This particular Saturday was hot, as if it was the continuation of the scorching Texas summer. As I was getting dressed to head towards the venue on this toasty afternoon, my thoughts were occupied with the disgust of the deceit behind hotel photography. The hotel we occupied looked nothing like the photos advertised online. Usually, we would book an Airbnb, but this decision was last minute. The photos on the hotel’s website looked marvelous, accompanied with 4- and 5-star ratings. Since I wasn’t aware of the area, I put my trust into what was advertised. It turned out to be a mild dissatisfaction but nonetheless we are as comfortable as we could’ve been. There was a bit of excitement present leading up to Heavy Hitter 3 for a handful of reasons, one in particular was the fact I was going to embark on a different hardcore scene, not far from home base. Although I hold on to my bias, I was eagerly open to find out about DFW’s sibling, the Austin scene. Another reason was my band True Grit got the offer to place this fest at the last minute. This was the third show for True Grit, right after opening up for Soul Glo and Ballista in late September and our debut set at Territoryfest in late July. I was a bit nervous though. In DFW, True Grit was received well. It was no brainer to me. Bringing outlaw hardcore to a different part of the state was nerve wrecking because I wasn’t able to tell how it will be received. Lastly, the Heavy Hitters line up was STACKED (hence the name “Heavy Hitters”). One look at the lineup and one would be able to tell it was going to be a non-stop party. After putting on my favorite Texas belt buckle, I noticed I put on some thigh hugger Wrangler jeans, limiting my mobility. My newfound confidence didn’t help make a comfortable decision, but I knew I looked good in the jeans. My final decision was to leave them on, I was already running late to get to the venue, and I didn’t want to waste any more time. After hauling huge boxes of Bored Magazine, True Grit and Ballista merch down a flight of stairs to my truck, my partner and I were ready to head towards the Ballroom

The Ballroom

As we slowly approached the establishment from W 29th street, I became to notice Austin’s eccentricities in the unique shops and eateries coming into view. The light was red at intersection, a deep inhale took place followed by a slow exhale in the same fashion. It was then I reminded myself I was in the Live Music Capital of the World. In my view to my right was a 7-11. The location of the popular convenient store was perfection to say the least. Having a show with walking distance of 7-11 was essential, God given if you ask me. The light turned green as we edged over the intersection and turned our heads to the right to where the GPS was telling us to go, The Ballroom at Spider House. Established in 1995, The Ballroom is perched on the corner of 29th and Fruth St. Upon the first look, it’s quite easy to tell this is an Austin venue. Its eclectic decor is a vibrant as the people and the personalities that occupied the space. Facing the front of the venue from 29th, one could get a good look at the outside seating area with the Arlo’s vegan food truck nestled in the corner under the draping trees. The huge vertical Ballroom sign attached to the building gave it an overall classic, vintage tone. The first thing that caught my attention outside of my observation was the colorful painting on the side of the building of what it looked like to be a vibrant shroom trip. The assortment of color reminded me of those 70’s psychedelic, glow in the dark posters. One glance over the unfolding scene happening in front of me, I was able to tell it was going to be a long day, but a fun day, nonetheless.

As late as usual

It was roughly 2:30 pm by the time we arrived at the Ballroom, and the show was about to begin at 3:00. I wasn’t able to tell where time went but, it didn’t matter. The main concern was finding where to park. I parked in the middle of the loading/unloading area but didn’t turn the truck off. Within a couple of minutes, River from Ballista/ True Grit and Felipe from Get Real Promotions happened to be outside simultaneously and told me the best places to park. Both were referring to East and West Dr and alongside Fruth St, adjacent to the Ballroom. I decided to unload all of the boxes since I was close to the entrance, leaving my girlfriend to scope the area for a parking spot. I bent down with my back straight to pick up two boxes to carry inside the venue. Although I was focusing on the path to the open front door, my peripheral vision was able to glimpse at a few familiar faces. A couple of “heys” and head nods involuntarily escaped my awareness before reaching the seated door lady. The facial features she possessed indicated she has a natural friendly vibe, similar to a warm welcome. After receiving my wrist band and hauling in the rest of the boxes of clothes, I began observing the environment a little more, while walking towards the adjacent street to find where my girlfriend parked the truck. The last and one of the most important things I needed was a clunky DSLR camera to document the night. At this time in my life, I feel comfortable enough to call myself a photojournalist, or at least a decent one. As we headed back towards the venue from parking a half of a block away, I started adjusting my camera settings to the correct exposure. I began greeting every familiar face I saw and introduced myself to new faces as much as I could. Nothing short “hey, how are ya? and nice to meet ya” between energy and eye contact.

“Hmm, I wonder what the max capacity is in here?”

If one were to approach the side of the building, the huge psychedelic mural would guide them as their entrance. The Arlo’s food truck received the most shade from the trees followed by the table sitting right next to it. From the front of the side of the building, the area between the sidewalk and the entrance was occupied with a scattered groups of band members, attendees, and friends who tagged along. A couple of tables were used as merch tables for a few bands. The mid-afternoon sun took its position above of us, scorching the back of our necks from the south. If there was a breeze, there wasn’t much of one. Of course, the one constant being the Texas hospitality was giving me the “home sweet home” vibe. The air felt a little different, but with the sun being the unanimous host of the day, the difference was difficult to detect. There was a mellow demeanor dancing over everyone in the vicinity. I began performing my photojournalistic duties and began snapping photos of the participants in my surroundings, along with smiles and conversations. I felt like I was in my element, my true form of all things where I felt happiest the most. Meeting new faces and reuniting with familiar faces in a community brought together by the music and the lifestyle it leads gives me a meaning to my life, inviting fulfillment and purpose. After a few moments of standing outside, it was getting a bit toasty. We decided to go inside the venue with observational eyes in full effect. From the front entrance was an immediate right into the building. At the entrance vantage point was the full view of the bar. To the left of the bar was a hallway with a photo booth on the left side and bathrooms to the right. If one were to stand in the middle of the hallway, a few steps forward and look to the left would be the stage and the general standing area. Merch tables were lined up along the inner walls with band members casually sitting on their chairs, glued to their phones or observing their surroundings. From the same vantage point at the entrance, one could also make an immediate left and notice the sound booth roughly 20 feet away from the stage. Another set of merch tables accompanied the wall to the left of the stage where our merch was. With the look of wonder and intrigue I asked myself “Hmm, I wonder what the max capacity in here is?”

Let the festivities begin

The festival started off in the proper hardcore fashion. I quickly adjusted my camera settings to the right exposure for the indoor environment. Austin hardcore band Beyond Reach were the openers of the day and set the perfect tone for what’s to come. People began pouring in from the outside to occupy the general standing area. It was a pleasant surprise watching the band perform. Previously, I was unaware of the band and where they were from until the opening moments. They showcased the right amount of energy for me as a spectator to become a new fan. What I admired was the way the band rocked the stage. They performed a great opening set that left more than enough room for excitement for the rest of the day. The attendees began to occupy the space in front of the merch table as if it was the safest place to be (later on in the night, it became the worst place to be, followed by being behind the merch table). In between moments of shooting photos and spectating, I felt a pinch of nervousness slowly increase. I was set to perform later on in a brand-new city in front of people I don’t know. I quickly shrugged it off to enjoy the environment and corresponding vibe.

One of the things I always thought was cool about festivals (hardcore festivals considering those are the only festivals I attend) is the line of clothing items presented to the attendees. It holds the resemblance of a mini flea market. The aura of rare findings you won’t be able to find in stores from underground bands emits an organic feel, virtually exclusive to the general society. I made it a point to get take a few photos of the products strategically placed on the tables. It was one of those things I would check off my list of things to shoot at all day events; merch, candid mosh pit shots, performances, candid moments, people enjoying their self, portraits, couples, etc. It helps illustrate the story around the event. The pace of progression of Heavy Hitters was brought to my attention almost immediately. Heat was set to perform as I was outside chit chatting with folks in front of the food truck. From the moment forth, I made a mental note of my duties outside of performing and socializing. Although I enjoyed bouncing around and multi- tasking, I had to make the conscious effort to enjoy the night as well. Heat is a DFW heavy hardcore band, and my bias will tell you that they never disappoint (and they never will). I wasn’t ready to mosh at this time though, my level of nervousness has risen. It was getting closer to the time I step on stage. I made sure to take a good look at as many people as I could. What I discovered from the past two True Grit shows was the more faces I’m familiar with or the more people I talk to, the better of the outcome of my performance. Familiar faces calm my nerves, relieving a small amount of pressure, thus making it easier to slide into comfort on stage. It was a struggle to ignore the itch to mosh as Heat performed their song Spineless, one of my favorite songs from their catalog.

Enter bad nerves, exit appetite

Before Heavy Hitters, I had a Starbucks drink and a breakfast sandwich, followed by high caloric, mass gainer protein shake and a sub sandwich from Thundercloud Subs. I figured it was going to hold me up for a good minute considering my energy levels were going to remain consistent throughout the day. After the Heat performance I was wrong, kind of. My appetite ceased to exist. What took place wasn’t any empty growling stomach of starvation and despair. Instead, it was filled with the nerves of monarch butterflies, bouncing off the inner walls of my stomach. I couldn’t believe the feeling felt while talking to people, acting as if I wasn’t about to go tell Felipe I wasn’t going to perform because my nerves were wrecked. Without anyone noticing, I swiftly walked to my truck, hopped in the driver seat and slapped myself across the face three times. I had to get myself right. What was I thinking? I made it this far. I wasn’t going to cop out now. What a huge disappointment I would’ve been to cancel the set now anyways. Even if I did, what was I going to do? Just sulk in the embarrassment and shame? Not I. Mama didn’t raise me that way. What mama did raise was a southern man with bad nerves and the talent to keep his cool under pressure. I made sure to rush back in afterwards. I wasn’t going to miss Slow slice followed by Gagging Order, or any band for that matter. Slow Slice’s set surprised me. The band was new to my ears until they reached the stage and began crushing my ears with sheer heaviness. It was a great candid moment of discovering a new band, a new sound and be completely satisfied with what I was listening to. Within a flash, Gagging Order was on stage. As expected, Robbie hops into the crowd like a true-blue hardcore kid and begins two stepping to the intro, leaving the rest of the band on stage. There are not many vocalists with the ability to replicate Robbie’s energy when the set begins. It’s damn near magical. Friends and fans alike joined into the fun, occupying the dance floor, leaving scuff marks as they show off their best dance moves. It was like watching a wild ride on a roller coaster with no intentions on slowing down. It was a fun set to watch.

About the time True Grit was set to play, I was sitting on the steps on the left side of the stage, a few feet away from the 4 arcade games outlining the wall to my left. The glowing neon lights illuminated my left peripheral vision as I stared at the space in front of me. It was bare from people making their exit to get fresher air. I was a bit puzzled in the moment. Suddenly my anxiety wasn’t as prominent as before, my nerves ceased to rattle my cage. I took a few deeps breaths before I walked onto stage. The stage lights sat permanently under my chin, exposing my complexion. The lights above me went unnoticed, my eyes continued to scan the room to watch people beginning to pour back inside. There were beautiful people everywhere, and they were all there to have a good time and enjoy their weekend. With that thought in mind, I did the sound check for my vocals before we began. Within an instant my goal for our set changed, to do what I can to have as much fun as possible for myself, my band, the fans and our loved ones. I went into what I like to call “auto pilot” mode. It’s a frame of mind that allows me to stay calm onstage. I let go of whatever control I had of myself and “let it fly”. A Texas sized YEEEHAAWW escaped my vocal cords, and the fun began. There were moments from time to time during our set where I had a chance to observe what was going on in front of me. It made me so happy to see people moshing to music I helped create. It felt like I accomplished something that was bigger than me and felt the immediate response. What made it better was the faces in my vision were new, I was in a different scene with True Grit, being turned on to new ears. It was amazing to witness the reactions of people who never heard of seen TG before (this would be our 3rd show). Despite the few vocal hiccups. I felt like I accomplished my goals for our set. I know my band members and I had fun and a handful of people made sure to tell me the same thing. Another set down and hopefully plenty of more to come.

The evening progresses

After the True Grit set, it was back to shooting photos and holding conversations. It felt like the 1st period of a hockey game just ended and it was time for the 2nd period. A bit of weight was lifted off of my shoulders, I felt like myself again. I was a bit thirsty, but I was able to hold myself together a little while longer so I can watch a couple more performances. The Purifier and the Virtue set were a blast to watch, both of the bands played at the Territoryfest in late July. Both bands were helped peel my eyes open to the Austin scene. It was a fun experience to watch those two groups take control of the stage and perform different styles of heavy core music, celebrating its aggressive nature in a southern fashion. Needless to say, the mosh came correct, respectfully. Bleak was up next. Bleak was equivalent to a cool Starbuck refresher (in the most delightful way because I love refreshers) in contrast to the rest of the bands on the event. They weren’t nearly as heavy, they offered the more alternative, melodic vibe I didn’t know I needed. It felt pretty cool to sit and enjoy what my ears were soaking up without being in the middle of a danger zone. Their experimental approach to their style of music is intriguing and accessible. It wasn’t difficult to imagine them in venue much larger with a ton more fans crowding the front room in due in time.

The urge to get a drink and step outside to breath became a necessity. The sun had set a little lower around this time, inviting a tad cooler air to take its place. I felt myself starting to sweat a little bit, but it wasn’t for me to feel the need to change. I was comfortable at the time, but I knew I was going to change later. For the night, I made it a point to share time with different individuals, to conversate, get to know or share a laugh with. It was one of the many unintentional gifts of a festival; the chance to meet new people. The more festivals I attend or apart of, the more I fed my curious nature to explore and tap in with people of the culture. Many sets of eyes reached my vision as the course of the evening progressed forward, collecting data and information on each individual, even if it was a grin taking place of a blank stare after a bit of dark humor.

As I walked back in, I was able to catch a bit of the Realms of Death’s powerful set. The vocalist of the band was one hell of a performer and is jacked. The amount of energy he carried around on the small space of the stage was pure talent. In recent time, Realms of Death has reached my radar and I was able to see why. I was nothing short of impressed. Maya from San Jose, California followed right behind. For the past year or so, the city of San Jose has been catching a lot of attention for their west coast brand of heaviness. Maya proved me right and exceeded my expectations. They came and delivered a fresh batch of beatdown madness that ultimately catapulted the evening into high gear. When Life Cycles stepped on stage, it was watching a group of heavyweight champs in the San Antonio scene step on stage. Life Cycles embodied Texas style metal with serious thrash elements, inciting vicious spin kicks and flailing hands made of bricks. It wasn’t hard to tell the band has a huge following.

“I don’t know how I’m going to shooting photos during Ballista”

There was no way I was going to shoot photos during Ballista. That was impossible. Even if I wanted to, why would I do that? It’s Ballista, and I’m in Austin. Also, I haven’t moshed all day. This was going to be the perfect to take a break from shooting and enjoy a set the way it was intended: mosh hard. I wasted no time taking off my cowboy hat and giving it to my girlfriend while I get ready. It felt mandatory for me to mosh because we were in Ballista Territory and when I’m in Ballista Territory, I mosh. As I promised, when Ballista Territory began ringing through the speaker, people including myself started going nuts. Moments get blurry in the pit and the lack of regard for others vanished. It’s never my intention to hit anyone, it is always by accident (insert manical giggle here). There is a golden rule in the pit folks abide by, for the ones who know, know. I allowed my body to release windmills, cowboy boot spin kicks and swinging back fists, creating space between myself and people nearby covering their body to avoid hits. Every so often, I would stand on the edge of the pit to catch my breath. Minutes later, I would jump back in the pit. Moshing is similar to an extreme cardio workout. Lack of regular exercise can wear an average person out in the pit. Towards the end of the Ballista set, I decided to relax and enjoy the rest of the set from behind the stage. My favorite Ballista song “Law of the Jungle”, ended their performance in spectacular fashion, leaving me to catch my breath.

It was about time I changed my shirt; I was soaked with sweat from my neck to my torso. Another brief walk to my truck to retrieve another shirt and the walk back took no time. I had to catch the straight edge metalcore band NO CURE step foot on stage and deliver a riveting performance. I couldn’t help but to watching in awe at the musicianship of the band and their technical sound. In middle of the set, I felt the consistent energy of the night begin to rise. It’s been a long day, but it didn’t affect majority of the attendees. It almost felt as if there was a collective resurgence of energy as the sun completely set.

Ending off the night with a bang

From there on, the show was reaching its last few bands. Things weren’t winding down though It felt like things were getting started. We have reached the third period at this point, and it was getting intense. It seemed to be more bodies in the pit than earlier in the day. Bellies were getting full of alcohol. The night slide into our presence with ease. Hunger began pinching my stomach, not enough to bother me. Cell was getting ready to play. Around this time, I gave myself a limit on shooting photos. I would shoot half of the set then enjoy the rest, a plan I should’ve thought about earlier. I’ve watched Cell a handful of times and each time seems to be better and better. Undoubtedly some of the heaviest vocals I’ve heard, Cell puts on a wicked good performance in my opinion. It’s always something about heavy bands in the southern region of the nation, adding a bit of depth and ignorance into the genre. This was my first time watching These Streets. I started to listen to their music late last year and always wondered if I would ever see them live. Sure enough, it became reality. Their set was fun to watch, if I didn’t have my camera in hand, I would’ve jumped in there for a mean two- step. The Peeling Flesh set intimidated me a little for good reason. Aside from the skull crushing breakdowns accompanied by unearthly heaviness, Damonteal’s pig squeals are insane. Before this, I never seen a vocalist execute pig squeals on the mic in front of me, it was wild. To end the night off with a bang, the No Zodiac set ended the night off with a bang. People were losing their minds in the pit like they didn’t mosh for hours earlier that day. I watched a couple of people get nailed with a spin kick or a back fist. It was getting pretty hectic. The merch table was getting destroyed to the point of no return. Nothing short of chaos ensued. I had to pack up the boxes of leftover merch to the truck. Before the set ended, I said my goodbyes and see ya laters before heading back to the hotel. I felt beat to the high heaven as I laid my body down. The entire day was epic. Nearly 500 bodies filled the packed house. Needless to say, Heavy Hitters 3 was truly unforgettable.

Felipe’s Recap on Heavy Hitters 3

There is no way to deny the fact of Heavy Hitters 3 having an awesome turn out. Towards the end of the night, Felipe tells me Heavy Hitters sold out the venue. That is a huge accomplishment for a promoter. I could only imagine the elation he felt in the moment he acquired the knowledge. A week or so goes by and we link up for a zoom meeting to talk about the sold-out fest.

For Felipe, Heavy Hitters 3 was a sizable step up from the first two Heavy Hitters events. “Heavy Hitters 3 was the first year we [ Get Real Promotions] took on a big headliner. Everything else fell into place, from people not being able to perform to the lineup changes”, he says. This was also the first Heavy Hitters at a legitimate venue with a professional sound guy as opposed to the previous years. There was a statement to be made with this year’s event: Austin’s back like the city never left. Felipe mentions a period of time during the pandemic when he made a decision to leave hardcore but was ultimately reeled back into the lifestyle. As he fought through his bitterness, he managed to make it happen. Shortly after his first announcement, he began receiving offers from booking agents. It was in that moment when he realized he was back into the hardcore scene. There was also another statement, more so a personal point to prove for Felipe. It was to prove he had the ability to curate a hardcore fest at a professional level and to provide a safe experience for the variety of attendees.

A stark comparison between this year’s fest and the years prior is the venue. As opposed to booking at older venues such as 523 Thompson, HH3 was booked at The Ballroom at Spider House. Being a promoter for roughly 8 years, booking majority DIY shows, the opportunity to put together an event at The Ballroom was an accomplishment for Felipe. A huge step up in the right direction, the main attribute of the Heavy Hitters series is it ends up being a festival of friends playing together under one roof. With a national headliner on HH3, it made the fest a bit more special and maximized the exposure. Despite 3 major headliners having to drop the festival due to external circumstances, Felipe managed to get everything back in order just in time. One of the headaches Felipe mentioned was dealing with logistics of running a proper show and dealing with bands dropping, adding bands last minute, band’s promoters, etc. Doing everything behind the scenes in a timely fashion caused a bit of stress. At one point throughout the night, Felipe was forced to tell the last handful of bands to cut one song from their set, causing bands to back line each other. Running a one-man show can be quite exhausting but Felipe doesn’t fail to give credit the venue, door staff and Matthew Klein from dontstressflowerpress for helping the event run as smooth as it did. Usually, he occupies the door at the shows he books but HH3 offered the opportunity for him to watch the event from crowd perspective. It presented a different point of view, watching the succession of all-day event from through the eyes of an attendee. Aside from the headaches, last minute hiccups, logistics and other smaller issues, HH3 was a success and is an awesome precursor for Heavy Hitters 4!