MUSIC: Blood gets spilled at the Beauty Bar

  They sang of shark attacks and having sticks of dynamite for fists, and if you stood in front of them long enough, you could feel tufts — nay, fields — of manly chest hair sprout upon your being.
    Their name is Early Man, and it’s an appropriate one: They trade in primal, meat-eating metal meant to help you get in touch with your inner caveman, something to crank when you’re chiseling weapons out of rock to slay a bison or something.
    On Sunday night, the Brooklyn-based band anchored an excellent bill of shaggy-haired thrash at the Beauty Bar.
    As might be expected, Early Man kept it simple: Their tunes were quick, hooky bursts of speed and testosterone, with galloping riffs hammered out on flying-V guitars. 
    Somehow even more retrograde was Toxic Holocaust, whose ’80s-styled snarl is indebted to Teutonic greats such as Destruction and Kreator, mixed with a raw, underground punk vibe and copious amounts of denim.
    Blond-haired frontman Joel Grind shook his mane like a wet dog trying to dry itself, his coarse bark giving strong, insidious voice to needle-in-the-red rippers like “Nuke the Cross.” 
    Yeah, the whole thrash revival thing is getting a bit much for everyone, but it’s bands like Toxic Holocaust that make tearing the sleeves off a jean jacket and checkering it with Venom and Sodom patches still seem like a worthy endeavor.
    And then there was headliners 3 Inches of Blood, a bunch of woolly Canadian hair farmers who look like evil lumberjacks.
    Their frontman, Cam Pipes, actually lives up to his ridiculous name with a lung bursting falsetto shriek that would certainly be what Zeus would sound like if he were a furry Canuck fond of singing about dragons.  
    They opened with “Deadly Sinners,” a song cheesier than a stack of pizzas and just as awesome.
    “Flash of iron, leather, spikes, and swords! Mighty warriors with metal on their side!” Pipes wailed, a forest of long hair cutting through the night air in furious arcs as the crowd headbanged in approval.
    By the time it all ended, it was several hours into Monday morning.
    Work and snooze alarms loomed.
    You know, the real world, which a gig like this provided a welcome break from, if only for a few hours.