Review: GWAR destroys the Commodore just like it was 1985

Monday November 30th, 2009
The Commodore, Vancouver
By Kristina Mameli, the Other Press

One of the many things that I love about Gwar is how remnants of their performances seem to linger days after the fact---or in the case of the vintage David Bowie shirt I unwisely wore the first time I saw them, forever. ‘Tis the mark of a good show when you’re reminded of the glorious carnage by your purple stained shoes every time you leave the house; isn’t it?

The veteran kings of kitschy thrash brought their gruesome caravan back to Vancouver to better terrorize the mostly unsuspecting patrons of the Commodore Ballroom. For the faithful that had bore witness to the spectacle before, it was like an early Xmas. They somewhat religiously put aside the black Municipal Waste t-shirts for one night instead choosing to don whatever white they could find. Some even wore goggles. This effectively separated the veterans from the first timers.

Wearing a white shirt with “GWAR!!!” crudely scrawled on the front, camera protected by a chopped up Ziploc bag, I arrived at the plastic coated Ballroom to discover that openers the Red Chord had been inexplicably dropped from the bill (according to a bouncer, possibly due to border issues) and as such, Job For A Cowboy had been moved up. Unfortunately, due to the time change, I missed their set entirely.

A crowd of eagerly expectant fans lined up en mass for a “beat and greet” with Gwar, who had also been on hand at Scrape Records earlier in the day. Miraculously, the band quickly worked its way through the line-up as a video detailing select portions of their 25 year history played them onto the stage.

As they blasted through the first songs, it quickly became apparent that nowhere would be safe from the festive red and green goo being sprayed at the crowd at random from every possible place. I felt particularly sorry for the bouncers who appeared not to have been briefed on what to expect pre-show.

Gwar is the most predictably unpredictable act I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching. They played a hefty selection from albums both old and new, moving as professionals through layers of make-up and what I can only imagine are extremely hot costumes through song after song. The set consisted of perfect opportunities for jokes, commentary and theatrics including the murders of the recently deceased Michael Jackson as well as US President Barack Obama. The former possibly in slightly poor taste, but hell, that’s the point isn’t it? Really, the performance could be viewed as a comment on popular culture and perhaps even some twisted form of tribute. The fans certainly didn’t seem to mind anyway as they were sprayed with a particularly powerful blast of Gwar excrement as a result of Jackson’s face being ripped off.

Whether you happen to be familiar with the mythology that surrounds Gwar or not, you can certainly appreciate their relentless touring schedule, astounding attention to detail and sheer dedication to the world they, with the help of their fans, have crafted through music and performance. Every aspect was followed perfectly, the band never breaking character.

Fans stumbled from the “blood” drenched room smiling, looking as if they’d all just participated in some sort of massacre. For all anyone on the street knew, maybe they had.

Look for Gwar’s 25th anniversary album Lust In Space in stores now on Metal Blade Records.

Also be sure to watch for an interview with singer Oderus Urungus in an upcoming edition of the Other Press.

Review: The kings of horror-punk the Misfits featuring Black Betty

November 10th, Venue, Vancouver BC
By Kristina Mameli, the Skinny

Legions of Fiends lined Granville Street huddling under marquees in a desperate, yet futile, attempt to keep their carefully applied make-up from running in the rain as they waited for the sold out show to begin. My slight disdain for Venue aside, Venue seemed, well, a rather unlikely venue for the latest incarnation of the legendary Misfits to be playing.

Local openers Black Betty seemed like another odd choice to fill the opening slot, though the CFOX Seeds darlings did impress me. They managed to create a surprising amount of sound considering it was just the two of them, ala Japandiods if they were trying too hard to be Black Sabbath. And in much the same way, I found myself thinking five probably couldn’t do much better---not to mention the instant bonus points the band earned because the drummer also sings.

I will admit that I was understandably more than a little trepidatious about seeing the Fits sans Danzig. For me, like many, this was my first live experience with the band. One could argue that this latest line-up isn’t really the Fits at all. But to those fighting to get to the front of the sold out crowd, it really didn’t seem to matter---at least, if it did, they certainly didn’t let it show.

The veteran act opened the nostalgia laden evening with the song at the top of any decent Halloween playlist, none other than “Halloween,” which proved to be the perfect primer for what the old pros had in store for the eager crowd. Jerry Only, trademark devil lock gelled eerily in place, thumped the bass like his life depended on it, growling every anthemic word into a mic supported by skeletal silver fingers.

The band moved seamlessly into classic after classic, careful to be sparing with newer tracks not as familiar. We were all there to hear their older material after all. Fan favourites such as “Dig Up Her Bones,” “American Nightmare,” “Saturday Night” and “Helena” were rattled off at warp speed causing the crowd to sing along and thrash with abandon, completely free of inhibition.

Former Black Flag member, guitarist Dez Cadena, led the charge on the first of two choice covers, sparking chaos in the strictly controlled pit with “Jealous Again.” Militant bouncers tried desperately to contain the rabid fans behind the barricade, shining bright lights in the faces of fans simply pushing for a slightly better vantage point.

The band played the two tracks from their latest George A. Romero inspired EP, Land of the Dead, back to back. Both tracks, the self titled and “Twilight of the Dead,” were inspired by the horror legend and pressed on special edition translucent orange vinyl. The tracks are formulaic, but hell---it’s a formula that works! No complaints.

The band ended the show with a version of Black Flag’s “Rise Above” so fast, that Jerry nearly lost the beat. Still, a great choice. They tore through the heartfelt “Die, Die My Darling” and exited stage right without doing an encore. Jerry Only, however, was soon back on stage, wiping sweat and running make-up on to adoring fans, christening them in an extremely unhygienic and mildly disgusting manner while ensuring he signed whatever was thrown his way. Moves like that make a huge difference.

Content with my signed vinyl and successful avoidance of second hand cosmetics I went home humming “Dig Up Her Bones,” a stupid grin plastered across my face.

Review: Mad Caddies with guests the Johnstones and Party at the Moontower

November 4th, Venue, Vancouver
By Kristina Mameli, the Skinny and the Other Press

Strolling down Granville Street to Venue, I couldn’t help but notice the somewhat historic 50-foot “Plaza” sign still hanging outside the newly renovated room. That sign was a beacon of nostalgia, much like the veteran headlining act. I never thought I’d miss the Plaza so much; or my youth for that matter.


Local openers, Party At the Moontower, a tribute to Dazed and Confused apparently, won me over with their brand of post hardcore, despite their affinity for melodic vocals, after I noticed that the lead singer/ guitarist was wearing an In Bear Country t-shirt. If that’s not legit, I don’t know what is. It’s highly recommended that you download the quartet’s five song EP, the O’Bannion EP for free at: http://www.myspace.com/patmmusic.

The Johnstones were a furry of energy, bouncing around the stage so fast that it was impossible to take any decent pictures. Judging from their appearance, it was hard to take the sextet seriously. The singer, with his curly blonde mane and what I hope are ironic tattoos, looked like an ‘80’s aerobics instructor leading the crowd through the motions sporting a neon green wife beater and matching absurdly tight pants. It was so nice to see a band not take themselves at all seriously, but genuinely be there to have a good time and entertain. Case in point: a rousing rendition of Jerry Lee Lewis’ “Great Balls of Fire.” That is what we like to call a choice cover kids. In fact, the sextet distracted so well from their music with their insanely vibrant antics, impossible facial expressions, sexual tension between each other and, well, capes, that I was truly shocked to find that the energy of their live show is not at all translated on record. But I suppose that ferocity is difficult to capture on record.


By the time the Mad Caddies hit the stage, I was amazed quite frankly that the Vancouver crowd, notorious for being too cool to dance, was still moving; skanking, swaying, slam dancing, stage diving and crowd surfing. It was an almost unheard of phenomena. For a band to crack a Vancouver crowd…well, they had to be doing something right. The band grooved through favourite after favourite, the trombonist in the throws of the crowd, foot barely still on the monitor. I found myself singing along to tracks I had long forgotten. The ska-punk with elements of reggae and Dixieland was an intoxicating mix as the band worked enthusiastically through tracks like “Drinking For Eleven,” “State Of Mind,” “Lay Your Head Down” and “Villains.” Polka numbers like “Monkeys” stirred the crowd into a frenzy, the band feeding off their energy and upping the anti. Everyone was genuinely having a great time, band, girl with “shirt” barely on dancing on stage, militant security unsure or whether to watch or kick her off, and audience alike. The band even debuted a brand new song, one of five recently recorded for their upcoming effort. All in all, I couldn’t ask for a better stroll down memory lane.

Review: Speckled Jim s/t

By Kristina Mameli, the Skinny

Vancouver quartet Speckled Jim happens to have an incredibly interesting back story. The band formed in 1993, played together for about two and half years before taking a brief hiatus---that is, if you consider thirteen and a half years brief. In January 2009, the band remerged, its’ members now a part of other notable acts such as the Bughouse Five, the Hard Rock Miners, Filthy Rocket and the Rubes.

Their latest toe-tapping effort, which happens to be their debut self titled, contains eleven catchy tracks recorded in ’94. With only one song clocking in at over four minutes, the band perfectly combines elements of '50s rock with hints of early punk in a way that almost hints at rockabilly.

Track after track offers sing along gold. Twang laced tracks like “Damned Cover Band,” anthemic love songs such as “Still the One” and the grit of the gang vocals backing “Stumble and Run” offer moments of MC5 and/or the Clash meets the Replacements.

“Castle Door” and “Witness,” which finish off the album, have a warm quality about them as if recorded off the floor of a jam session on reel to reel, making for a listening experience that sticks to the music’s humble roots.

The band was recently the opening act on the Cobalt’s final bill and delivered a memorable performance that makes one hope to soon be able to expect more from the Vancouver troubadours.