At the Croatian Cultural Centre on Thursday, September 20

Now that grandma's rocking out with the kids to Iron Maiden's "Hallowed Be Thy Name" on Guitar Hero II, it seems heavy metal finally appeals to audiences for more than its cartoonish hilarity. The genre's creepy little cousin, death metal, still hasn't made that jump, though, because, well, singing about rape and dismemberment is still unsettling to most rational people.

That said, a cross-section of Vancouver's sickest metalheads, from thin-moustached skids to overweight goth teens, sucked back on beer bongs in the Croatian Cultural Centre parking lot last Thursday, desperate to get into the Metal Blade Records 25th anniversary show, headlined by the always-controversial Cannibal Corpse.

Nearly 20 years into its career, Cannibal Corpse is still one of the most stunningly offensive acts around. Most bands soften with time–how's that golf course treating you, Alice Cooper?–but Buffalo's finest gore peddlers still push the envelope into a violent world of sadistic, psychosexual whimsy.

The crowd, adorned in the group's dead-baby T-shirts, were likely disappointed, then, to see the New York State quintet quietly traipse across the stage in front of a hardly chill-inducing blood-oozing logo.

While their depraved shirt designs are apparently timeless, the musicians themselves look a little long in the tooth. Vocalist George "Corpsegrinder" Fisher is about to turn 40 and, judging by his paunch, has been cannibalizing too much over the years. The group stood in a row almost motionless for the bulk of its 80-minute set, except for the occasional hair whip. Guitarist Rob Barret tore his fingers raw during his seizure-inducing solos, but mostly stared at the ceiling during the set.

Long-haired heshers loved every minute of it, though, as they pounded their contraband Kokanee cans in the front row. The constant, brutal blast beats and indecipherable guitars made for a fairly static set, but the punky "Put Them to Death", from the ensemble's debut Eaten Back to Life, stood out with its drawn-out power chords and polka beat.

Fisher barfed out each and every horrific syllable. Despite all the doom and gloom, the old softie did manage to gush over the ladies in the house. "This song goes out to all the women out there," he grimaced before belching, "I cum blood!" The pseudo-ballad's blitzkrieg pace convinced more than a few drunken bros to pick up a pair of panties displaying the song's title for their truly lucky girlfriends.

Reverting to his tough-guy role, Fisher singled out a heckler, called him a "little homo", and threatened to kick the tar out of him, before going back to his expertly choreographed headbanging routine. The rage-aholic later channelled his aggression into the furious "Hammer Smashed Face" before taking leave of his legion of psychopaths.

Focusing on high times over death threats, the Black Dahlia Murder killed it with their Swedish-influenced speed metal. Neo-classical guitar runs and double-kick drumbeats sent singer Trevor Strnad soaring across the stage before he asked the fans for some B.C. bud.

The Red Chord seemed to be out of place, if only because the group appeared to be having way too much fun; screamer Guy Kozowyk bounded across the floor wearing a 10-foot wide grin. Concentrating on material from the recently released Prey for Eyes, the quintet pumped out a barrage of odd time signatures, pick slides, and cymbal stops, all the while swinging its guitars around like maniacs.

An old-fashioned scrag fight between two underage metal queens broke out during Goatwhore's performance. It was by far the most entertaining part of the set.