Drummer Danny Herrera's sticks often became a disconcerting blur as the band moved into material from last year's Utilitarian album, including "Leper Colony" and the hardcore meat-tenderizer of a single, "The Wolf I Feed." The audience thrashed with abandon throughout, but went at one another with particular viciousness during Napalm's beloved rendition of the Dead Kennedys' anti-fascist screed, "Nazi Punks Fuck Off."

The band capped off its excruciating excursion through its lengthy back catalogue with "Scum" and the one-second song "You Suffer" from their classic debut LP. It had been an explosive set that left the thrill-seekers in the pit bruised and battered, howling for more.

If there'd been any question as to the sustainability of the crowd's energy for Napalm Death, it was immediately put to rest when Cannibal Corpse took the stage. The club's floor became a roiling sea of screaming headbangers and soon as the band's darkened silhouettes appeared, and once the metallic onslaught began, Fitzgerald's no longer felt like a particularly safe place to be.

After a stage diver managed to topple over on to lead guitarist Pat O'Brien during "Edible Autopsy," the frustration with the insanity was plain on the face of front man George "Corpsegrinder" Fisher, who helped the guy offstage with a big boot to the butthole. Cannibal's set had only begun, but already it was threatening to spiral out of control.

"If you want to stage dive, that's fine," said the imposing singer. "But don't touch that set list, or I'll fucking murder you."

Fisher is a large man, and the crowd appeared to believe him. The hysteria relaxed into brutal elation as the band carved out charming ditties such as "Addicted to Vaginal Skin" and "Disfigure." Each was an athletic challenge for the musicians: Drummer Paul Mazurkiewicz grimaced as he strained his tendons past human limits, and O'Brien's fingers worked the neck of his axe with a speed and dexterity that would pop Liberace's eyes out of his skull. (Ooh! New song title!)

The banging heads in the crowd did their best to keep up with Fisher, who pin-wheeled his hair like the tail rotor of a Blackhawk helicopter every second he wasn't belching gruesome horrors into the mic. In the pit, kids moshed violently with their phones out, no doubt recording the wildest mosh of the year for Facebook posterity.

After a long set from Cannibal Corpse drained the audience of every ounce of sweat, dripping metal freaks filed out to discover a spectacular lightning storm raging above the skyline of downtown Houston. I'm not sure whether the light show was a sign of God's approval or fury with the Decibel Magazine Tour's opening salvo. But it sure as shit seemed like he noticed.

Personal Bias: Listened to Andrea Bocelli on the ride over.

The Crowd: Death metal, man. Death. Metal.

Overheard in the Crowd: Grrooooooooooo!!!

Random Notebook Dump: Some shows, you can't help but wonder how sturdy the Fitz balcony really is. If it didn't come down on Friday, it's probably staying put.