There was more than a little anger in the room on Sunday night. The scene was absolutely awesome and the crowd as unorthodox as any I’ve ever witnessed at a hip-hop show: from genuine rap backpackers and breakdancers to shirtless, tattooed metalheads and their longhaired friends, the audience—clad nearly entirely in black—might as well have been milling around waiting for a grindcore show. In reality the atrium at the Catalyst was packed with men waiting to see Rob Braunstein, better known as Necro, the founder of Pscyo+Logical Records and creator of albums such as “I Need Drugs,” “Gory Days,” and most recently, “The Sexorcist” and “Death Rap.”

Necro is legendary in most hip-hop circles, acknowledged at once for his brilliance behind the boards and his ultra-violent, hyper-misogynist rhymes on the mic. “I Need Drugs” cemented him as a legit lyrical force in the Brooklyn underground and marked him as a pioneer of the emerging gore rap and death rap subgenres, which also include acts like Esham and the Gravediggaz. From that first release he moved into even more explicit territory, particularly with “The Sexorcist,” a disc so lyrically ribald and downright sexist that it too demanded a new term: porn rap.

Given his history, it was impossible to know just what would go down in Santa Cruz, or what kind of a draw the Pscyo+Logical camp would pull. Apparently, however, there's a decent amount of crossover between death metal and death rap: fans wore shirts that read “Gore Obsessed” and “Kate Moss Loves La Coka Nostra” while others were fully tatted; one man sported a shaved head with “Hard Headed” inked right onto the back of his skull, just next to a bullet wound. There were enough drugs for the entire crowd and after Mr. Hyde had finished his set it became obvious that when Necro hit the stage the nascent mosh pit would deepen to involve the entire crowd. (The last time I saw a mosh pit at a hip-hop show was when Murs played in Omaha, NE.)

Necro lumbered onto stage—much heavier than any press photos ever show him—and started his set to a tremendous amount of fanfare. Though he didn’t have the greatest mic control (his gravely voice was flagging from tour stress as Santa Cruz was the final date), he did control the crowd. The kids who showed up were going completely nuts, screaming and spitting and throwing punches left and right. The entire situation was a spectacle that really defied imagination. One can say whatever they want about the content of Necro’s rhymes, but his label is poised to capitalize on an emerging fanbase that isn’t exactly metal and can’t quite be fully hip-hop. Necro calls it death rap, and if there was one thing binding the audience it must surely have been their love for mayhem and violence; the purposely dyslexic chant “Satan Cruz” sounded throughout the night.

The most intense moment in Necro’s set came when he demanded that the women in the audience make their way to the stage. Since there were only about a dozen girls in the entire building, it was no surprise that only three were brazen enough to alit the platform and share the spotlight with this giant, white monster. He launched into a track off “The Sexorcist” and before the women could even begin gyrating they were doused with full bottles of water and some of them stripped of their clothes in what was quite possibly the most degrading moment I have ever experienced live. Some of the girls—not expecting the water—were clearly furious and removed themselves from the moment, while others made their way to center stage to shake their shit for the orgy of testosterone circulating in the pit below. It was like nothing I have ever witnessed and a memory that will be tough to shake. A few songs later, Necro escorted more women to the stage for his performance of “Get On Your Knees,” during which he forced one to pantomime fellatio while he rapped—one hand on the mic, one on her head.

The energy in Santa Cruz was nuts, and though I had pegged the town as something of a back-to-nature hippie retreat, it turns out that there are some serious dudes on the north side of Monterey Bay. Judging by the number of circle pits and the amount of army boots in the crowd, I'd guess the city has a decent metal scene as well. The show was great to witness--and worth every penny--but nothing I'll pay to see again. This was an educational journey to the outer-limits of hip-hop; it was a search for boundaries. The take-home is that if enough heads get involved, we could witness a new "death rap" genre as stratified and over-labeled as metal is today.

In a lot of ways it seems like Necro has lost his luster as an artist. It’s clear what he’s trying to do with this tour and with Psycho+Logical Records, but unfortunately progress for his label comes at the expense of good music. Though “I Need Drugs” is an objectively good rap album, the same cannot be said for “Death Rap” and “The Sexoricst,” no matter how musically exploratory they are. It’s really a shame that Necro didn’t stick strictly to the gore and conspiracy theories that characterized his early work, though he’ll probably have success with this new format as it certainly crosses into territory once held by the Insane Clown Posse—whether or not Necro actually enjoys that comparison is a story yet to be told.