Little Slaughter on the Prairie: Underground, Unfiltered and Ready to Rattle Saskatoon

by Scott Roos

photos courtesy of the bands and Little Slaughter on the Prairie

There’s something fitting about a festival called Little Slaughter on the Prairie arriving in Saskatoon with eight bands, a magician and absolutely no interest in behaving like a traditional music festival.

Taking over RCAF Lynx Hall on Saturday, August 22, the inaugural event brings together Edmonton and Saskatoon’s heavy music communities for an evening built around grind, death metal, deathcore, thrash, hardcore and plenty of noise in between. Doors open at 5 p.m., with the first band hitting the stage at 5:30.

The festival grew out of a simple problem: two independently promoted shows were scheduled for the same day. Rather than compete for the same audience, Abuse’s Eric Ashe and Ahomeinhardcore’s Alyx Kirkpatrick decided to join forces.

“It was actually a pretty cool story,” Ashe explains. “Scott Cressman of Tooth and Nail messaged both Alyx and I letting us know about a couple shows we were planning on the same date.”

The solution was obvious. “We both threw out the idea of combining the shows pretty well in sync.”

That spirit of collaboration is at the heart of Little Slaughter on the Prairie. The resulting lineup features Vain, Rex Infernus, Affordable Housing, Exsang, Half Dead, Abuse, Pit of Gore and Dead Sunday, bringing together musicians from Edmonton and Saskatoon who might otherwise have found themselves playing competing rooms.

“I believe working together and building everyone up is the only way to succeed in life, musically and otherwise,” Ashe says.

Kirkpatrick agrees, emphasizing that even independent promotion is never really a solo operation. “I couldn’t do what I do without the bands, venues, crowds and staff that I work with,” she says. “It’s impossible for one person to uphold an entire scene.”

For Ashe, bringing the two cities together is about strengthening connections within Saskatchewan’s broader heavy music community. “I think it is a wicked way to strengthen the bonds between the extreme metal scenes in our respective cities,” he says.

And then there’s the magician.

Yes, in the middle of all this sonic destruction, Jay the magician will be performing throughout the evening, including during the festival’s quick changeovers. He’ll also be offering tarot readings and, according to Ashe, has promised some suitably ridiculous feats.

“It was fate,” Ashe says of the unlikely addition. He had met Jay shortly before the festival came together and immediately thought of him when the idea of Little Slaughter on the Prairie started taking shape.

The venue itself is equally important to the festival’s identity. Kirkpatrick points out that many underground and extreme music shows have historically existed in unconventional spaces because suitable venues are increasingly difficult to find.

“There’s never been very many venue options for genres like these,” she says, noting that shows often end up in warehouses, basements and halls. For her, keeping those spaces alive matters.

“It’s important to keep those spaces alive,” she says, particularly as ticket prices and commercialization continue to push live music further out of reach for some fans.

That philosophy extends to the festival itself. Tickets are $30, with a limited number of $25 early-bird First Blood tickets available. There’s no corporate gloss here, and according to Ashe, there’s not supposed to be.

“This festival is for the community and for the bands,” he says. “We aren’t profiting from this nor do we hope to. It’s for the love of the music, making meaningful connections within the community, and enjoying entertainment.”

For Abuse, the evening will also be a chance to get loud in front of a Saskatoon crowd. Ashe promises the band will “hit the ground ripping” with catchy riffs and “some of the gnarliest vocals this side of the South Saskatchewan River.”

Ultimately, though, Little Slaughter on the Prairie is about more than one night.

Ashe hopes people leave wanting to hear more from every band on the bill — and perhaps discover a few more local shows along the way. “Every single band on this bill is insane in their own way,” he says.

Kirkpatrick simply hopes people remember the day positively and come back for the next one.

That’s the bigger idea behind Little Slaughter on the Prairie: build something worth returning to. Something loud, affordable, weird, communal and distinctly underground.

“If you don’t make it out you’ll be missing out on so much more than 8 bands and a magician,” Ashe says. “You will have missed the opportunity to help build up a festival that we want to descend upon Saskatoon yearly.”

Judging by the lineup, the ambition is pretty clear: come for the slaughter, stay for the community, and leave with your ears ringing.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

•