GWAR fans still shattered over the death of their hero, Oderus Urungus, now have something to look forward to: On Friday, Aug. 15th in Richmond, Virginia, a public memorial service will be held honoring Oderus and the crazy, incredible dude behind him, Dave Brockie.
The memorial happens one day before the 5th annual GWAR-B-Q, which might be a slightly more solemn affair this year. Although let’s hope not, because I’m sure Oderus would’ve wanted his minions partying till they puke in his honor. Maybe they can puke first and then cry later. That seems like the way to go here, I think.
In a video statement, the surviving and unmasked members of GWAR also announced that they’re creating the Dave Brockie Foundation, a charity that “will be a resource for artists in the fields of music, film, literature and all visual arts who cannot find funding through mainstream channels.” So basically, every single band we’ve ever blogged about should apply.
You can read more about the Dave Brockie Foundation here and get updates on the GWAR-B-Q here. So far the only band that’s been announced is…GWAR! GWAR without Oderus? Can such a thing be possible? Maybe they can get Joan Jett to be like Oderus’ long-lost sister or something. She did a pretty good job subbing in for Cobain with Nirvana, I hear.
Here’s that video statement. Mark your calendars, GWARmy!
Turns out we really should read the comments on this thing more often. Ten friggin’ days ago, Duane Warr himself, the mysterious garage-metal hero behind Dwarr, posted a comment and we only just saw it this weekend. Sorry, Duane! Day jobs and shit. I’m sure you can relate.
Anyway, it turns out that Dwarr’s ill-fated 2012 comeback tour, which was described all over the interweb as having been totally canceled (including by us…oops), was only partially canceled. Duane did manage to squeeze out two shows in Texas before the whole thing went sideways. He even provided the video evidence to prove it. You can read his entire comment over on this page but allow us to provide the highlights:
The tour started in Austin, and it sounds like the first show went OK, even though Duane had literally only met his touring band the day before. “We had a really rough first practice. We practiced again Saturday around lunchtime. We went on last Saturday night. It was really bad, but everybody loved it.”
The first signs of trouble surfaced in Houston: “I was told I couldn’t use the Fender amp anymore because it was old and I might blow it up.” But the show went on anyway, and even sounded pretty good, despite early signs of road fatigue: “The music was a lot tighter in Houston but my 2 guys were tired. I think they stayed up late in Austin. At the bottom of my set list they wrote ‘BEDTIME.’ Pretty Hilarious.”
Duane drove by himself to the next gig in New Orleans, and showed up right on time for load-in, only to be greeted by the cook and the bartender. “Nobody else showed up for 2 hours,” he relates.
When they did arrive, I was told I had to shorten my set. I told them I only had 5 nights and really needed to play my whole set, I was trying to get a 2 disc live package with a CD and DVD. When I was told “This is Jennifer’s Tour and if she says you get 45 minutes, you get 45 minutes” that was it for me. Adios Amigos.
Jennifer, by the way, is Jennifer Herrema, formerly of Royal Trux and now gigging under the name Black Bananas. Black Bananas was the headliner, so I guess she pulled rank.
So there you have it…the true story of Dwarr’s only partially, not totally, canceled tour. I guess the two-disc live package will have to wait, but at least there are some sweet videos from the tour up on YouTube. Here’s our favorite, for a track called “Tears You Cry.” Yeah, it’s a little rough, but we owe Duane Warr a serious apology for bagging on his musical skills in an earlier post. Clearly the man can shred. And he rides that wah peal like it’s a stolen Ferrari.
In their 28 years on our pathetic excuse for a planet, GWAR has cut a pretty wide swath of destruction. But for reasons that remain murkier than the inside of Oderus’s codpiece, Japan has been spared…until now.
This March, GWAR will play their first-ever* shows in the nation that gave us a shrimp-themed jazz/funk band and a J-pop trio that looks like this. So I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that the Scumdogs of the Universe will be a big hit in Osaka and Tokyo. Plus, they’re apparently bringing their pet T-Rex Gor-Gor with them, and we all know that if there’s one thing Japanese people love, it’s getting their asses kicked by giant dinosaurs. That and metal played by schoolgirls. Maybe new guitarist Pustulus Maximus can wear a plaid skirt for the occasion.
Even space-traveling demon-gods need to plan their tours efficiently, so GWAR will also be swinging through Australia to play the Soundwave Festival, a touring punk/rock/metal festival with a lineup so good I almost don’t mind that it includes Panic! At the Disco. Almost.
Anyway, for all you folks on the other side of our pathetic excuse for a planet, here are the full dates:
GWAR Australia/Japan Tour
2/22/14: Soundwave Festival Brisbane
2/23/14: Soundwave Festival Sydney
2/28/14: Soundwave Festival Melbourne
3/1/14: Soundwave Festival Adelaide
3/3/14: Soundwave Festival Perth
3/6: Osaka, Japan @ BIG CAT
3/7: Tokyo, Japan @ Akasaka BLITZ
In other news we meant to tell you about sooner: GWAR released their latest album, Battle Maximus, last fall. You can score yourself a copy here and watch the video for “Madness at the Core of Time” below. We can attest from personal experience that yes, that’s really what a GWAR show looks like. Except it’s even grosser in person. Can’t let Oderus spew his demon spunk all over that expensive camera equipment.
*That concert DVD Live From Mt. Fuji? “Recorded in the future!” according to Oderus. Or Pittsburgh, according to Wikipedia.
Sure, you laugh now at Van Canto, the German a cappella metal band that does all their drop-D riffs with voices instead of guitars. But when the shit hits the fan, you’re gonna need these guys. Because only a cappella metal can defeat the forces of evil that are conspiring to keep you from banging your head as nature intended.
In their new video for the awesomely titled “Badaboom”…which we can only hope will soon be followed by a prequel song/video called “Badabing”…Van Canto must save the day when an evil scientist and his Matrix-like horde of shades-and-suits henchmen decide to rid the world of heavy metal by stealing every heavy band’s guitars. They start right at the top with Sabbath and Metallica, then they skip further down the list to Swedish power metalers Sabaton, I guess because they needed to represent Northern Europe somehow and no one actually knows what Opeth looks like. Anyway, Van Canto come to the rescue because, of course, they don’t need no stinkin’ guitars…although they do have a drummer, because everyone knows that mouth percussion is retarded.
“Badaboom” is the first single from Van Canto’s fifth album, Dawn of the Brave, which comes out next February on Napalm Records. You can pre-order that shit here, and catch them on tour if you happen to live in Europe. If you live in America, like us, well I guess there’s always a chance Glee might do an all-metal episode. But let’s hope not.
Van Canto 2014 tour dates after the clip. By the way, which impersonator in this video is worse: fake Ozzy or fake Hetfield? Discuss!
Van Canto “Dawn of the Brave” Tour:
14.02.2014 RUS – Moscow / Klub Volta
15.02.2014 RUS – St. Petersburg / Zal Ozhidaniya
21.02.2014 FR – Strasbourg / La Laiterie
22.02.2014 CH – Pratteln / Gallery
23.02.2014 DE – Nuremnberg / RoFa
06.03.2014 IT – Milan / Factory
07.03.2014 DE – Munich / Backstage
08.03.2014 CZ – Prague / Nova Chmelnice
09.03.2014 DE – Ludwigsburg / ROFA
21.03.2014 DE – Aschaffenburg / ColosSaal
22.03.2014 DE – Hamburg / Grünspan
23.03.2014 DE – Hamelin / Sumpfblume
02.04.2014 GB – London / Underworld
03.04.2014 NL – Tilburg / O13
04.04.2014 DE – Bremen / Aladin
05.04.2014 DE – Cologne / Live Music Hall
10.04.2014 DE – Berlin / Lido
11.04.2014 DE – Glauchau / Alte Spinnerei
12.04.2014 DE – Düsseldorf / Pitcher
13.04.2014 DE – Dortmund / FZW
From about 1985 to 1993, Haunted Garage was one of the most demented acts in the L.A. underground rock scene, famous for their elaborate, prop-heavy stage shows and frenetic, horror-themed punk/metal songs. But after releasing their one and only album, Possession Park, and touring the U.S. and Europe with The Cramps, the band called it quits. Mostly.
Since 1993, frontman Dukey Flyswatter (also famous as a B-movie actor in films like Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers and Surf Nazis Must Die, sometimes credited under his real name, Michael Sonye) has made several attempts to bring Haunted Garage back to life. The first two reunions produced only a handful of shows, but it’s looking like the latest incarnation of Haunted Garage may stick around for awhile. Formed just a few months ago, the new lineup features lead guitarist Erik Erath (who first joined the band for a reunion show back around 2001), rhythm guitarist (and professional makeup effects artist) Andy Chavez, bassist Sean Fodor and drummer Brian Beaver. With this new supporting cast, Dukey is more excited about Haunted Garage than he’s been in years. “These guys, they believe in the band,” he says. “They like the theatrics.”
Recently, I got to visit the band in their rehearsal space at Francisco Studios, in the industrial L.A. suburb of Vernon. I listened while they tore through a full rehearsal set, then we chatted for about a hour, drinking Jack Daniels and swapping stories. Portions of that interview wound up in an LA Weekly article previewing their gig at the Long Beach Zombie Walk. But I just had to reprint the full interview (with a few minor edits) here on TWBITW, because the story of Dukey Flyswatter and Haunted Garage hasn’t really been told enough.
Weirdest Band: Can you talk about how this version of the band came together?
Dukey: I’ve been trying to put together different versions of Haunted Garage for awhile now. If I lay fallow too long, I go crazy. I have bipolar disorder and I just can’t work a normal job with normal people for too long. I’ve just gotta unleash this pent-up energy.
WB: Were you working a normal job for awhile?
Dukey: Yeah, for a little while. I had a gig with Dinah Cancer and this other girl at a movie company’s daycare center. And then one of the women there—I put her kid into time out. You know, I was weird-looking; I had green hair and everything. So she started this rumor that I was yelling at her kid and yelling at all the other kids. That’s the time that sent me into my second nervous breakdown. I had one breakdown when the band quit and then right afterwards there was the [Northridge] earthquake. And then right after that, my brother blew his brains out. And then right after that, my Mom tried to overdose. So that was just a lot. It was just too much. So yeah, I do better on my own and being creative and staying up late at night—I’ve got insomnia a lot.
We’ve tried to do several versions of [Haunted Garage]. Funnily enough—we used to play this place in San Francisco a lot called the Chatterbox. It was a tiny little place. When the bands came in at night, they would take the pool table and stack the amps on it and put a piece of plywood on top of it—and that’s where the bands would play. And Erik walked in in a stupor one night and we were throwing blood and stuff around. And he was like, “I don’t need to see this crap.” And walked out! [laughs]
And then about 12 years ago, me and Gaby [Godhead, guitarist from the “classic” Haunted Garage lineup], we had a big party at a friend’s house, and we got these guys from O.C. [Orange County, California] to be the rhythm section. They were blown away by the [number of] people that came to the gig. So the next time we saw them, they were dictating to us what they were gonna get paid for each gig. They just decided to hold the band for ransom. So that didn’t fly.
That Gaby got offered a gig with the guys from Bottom 12, and [that] morphed into Virginia City Revival. So I was able to do one more revamp of Haunted Garage for one night only at Safari Sam’s a little over five years ago.
WB: That was with Gaby?
Dukey: That was with Gaby. We were going to keep it semi-regular, and I was booking some gigs, but he wanted to make sure that Virginia City Revival was going to be first and foremost. I could see the writing on the wall: Rehearsals were gonna keep on getting canceled. So that didn’t fly.
Trying to find reliable band members when you don’t have any money to tempt them with is like trying to pull teeth, you know? [laughs] You got money, you can get any hotshot kid to go with you on tour. If you don’t have any money to start something, it’s gotta appeal.
So it was just the right time that I hit Erik—and Erik and I are friends anyway. The rest of the people—it’s kinda like it was the first time with Gaby and those guys. It just fell in my lap. I’ve known Beaver before from this band Insecto. And I met Sean at this club where we were doing this cover band Undead Kennedys with Erik, which was Dead Kennedys covers all in zombie makeup. And then Andy I’ve known for awhile…
Andy: From Mondo Video.
Dukey: Yeah, from Mondo Video. Used to go there and see them shooting porno. They had all these weird bands there like Extreme Elvis and The Kids From Widney High, which were all these disabled kids. He saw the Safari Sam show and he really enjoyed it, so when he saw on the Facebook page that I was looking for a guitarist, he jumped on it. Plus this is the first time we’ve ever had an actual makeup man, an effects guy, in the band. The rest of the guys didn’t bother learning how to do that stuff.
Andy: Yeah, I work for a costume company.
Dukey: And his wife does, too. And I can do some. And these guys are starting to learn, too. Erik used to do his own zombie makeup and stuff.
Erik: Yeah, I did it in the Redwood one night with no mirror. It turned out OK.
Dukey: You do what you gotta do. One night, I think it was after we made the Cramps’ dressing room way too bloody in Europe—we were playing in Germany, I forgot where. Stuttgart, maybe. Anyway, we couldn’t use the dressing room. So we had to go up on these catwalks that were way high above the audience. We had to change our clothes up there and have little flashlights and little mirrors. No one even knew we were up there, it was so frickin’ high up. So you do what you gotta do.
WB: You said earlier that you have bipolar disorder. So is it when you get the manic energy that you get an itch for getting this band back together again?
Dukey: Absolutely. Being creative, period. I’ve been doing other things. But some things just don’t pan out, you know? I’ve been commissioned to write about three scripts, but they’re just kinda laying there.
WB: I checked your IMDb page and see you’ve still been acting occasionally.
Dukey: Yeah, I had a small role in a film called Reel Evil not too long ago. Me and Johnny Angel Wendell—he’s a musician and an AM talk show host, one of the few liberal ones—five years ago we were commissioned to write Blood Feast: The Musical. And we did, and the first draft turned out pretty good. But they haven’t gotten anybody to finance it yet.
WB: Were you always into music as well as the film stuff?
Dukey: No, I was always interested in acting. I always liked music. I love rock ‘n’ roll music. Me and my friends—it might’ve even been my birthday party—we’re all sitting around drinking beer, and we were just talking about some of the bad movies we liked, and the songs in them. And we were like, wouldn’t it be great if there was a band that played all those bad songs that we remember from those movies? You know, “The South Is Gonna Rise Again” from Two Thousand Maniacs!, and Strange Pursuits and Hideous Sun Demon and The Blob and stuff like that. And then the bass player called me up and said, “Dude, we’re gonna do the band. And you’re gonna sing.” And I went, “Oh, shit.” I hadn’t done any singing, except being drunk.
So you know, it just kinda took off for awhile. And then we found out that not as many people knew about the songs and they thought we were just making them up. So we started to make them up. And then as the band morphed, it just got more and more aggressive. It started out kinda bluesy, then it went kinda psychedelic. And then straight-on metal and punk.
WB: Do all your stage props live somewhere else?
Dukey: Yeah, they live at my house. They’re just building up now. Andy was able to score some stuff, and I’m asking around. We’re getting stuff sometimes right off the junk pile. I just had our corpse reserviced—you know, patched her up and everything.
WB: Does she have a name?
Dukey: Amber’s [Dukey’s girlfriend] just been calling her my wife. I think I’ve called her Monica. We’re gonna put a Miley Cyrus wig on her or something like that.
Sometimes it was hard to get the guys in the old band to fork over the money for the show. ‘Cause they were musicians first and they were showmen way second. But these guys like every part of it. So they’re willing to put some money forth in the beginning to at least get the show going. People expect some kind of a show, but we’re not up to where we used to be. ‘Cause on the last couple of shows [pre-breakup] we destroyed everything.
But the best thing about these guys is, they wanna do it. Sometimes it was like twisting the other guys’ arms. I had difficulty just getting them out of town, like to San Francisco. [puts on a gruff grouchy voice] “Why do we have to tour?” And then when they found out it was a gay bar in the daytime: [gruff voice] “Goddamn, look at all these queers hangin’ around here. We have to play this place?” They changed their tune later on. They were good guys.
Brian: Are you doing the bass player right now?
Dukey: [laughs] No, none of them…no, actually, I was doing the old drummer.
Brian: The bass player you guys had [King Dinosaur], he looked like Ted Nugent. Was he a total redneck or did he just look that way?
Dukey: You know, we made him that way. He was a total San Diego surfer guy. And we were like, this is not gonna fly. We were like, you gotta grow your hair, put on a leather jacket. I had the conversation for weeks to get a leather jacket. And when he finally got it, he’d never take that thing off.
And Gaby, the first time Gaby came in, he was dressed up like a hippie with a Nehru jacket and a peace sign. “You know, that doesn’t quite work.” And he says, “Oh, OK. I think I know what I’m gonna do.” And he just showed up at this club, the Zombie Zoo, about 15 minutes before we were gonna go on, in like a total Catholic schoolgirl outfit with this weird kabuki makeup. Brilliant. He stayed that way ever since. In his other bands, he’s still dressing that way.
I was lucky to start the band at a time in Los Angeles when the club scene was very vital. There were a lot of bands that were doing stuff like that, like Pigmy Love Circus, Celebrity Skin, Christy McCool. Tons of different bands.
Erik: I mean, just your average rock band was throwing shapes onstage and wearing weird clothes. It was quite a time.
Dukey: That’s true.
WB: Does this version of the band have the blessing of Gaby and those other guys?
Dukey: Well, the other guys and I don’t talk very much. But Gaby wished me luck in an email. There’s some resentments with one or two other members, but that’s the way it goes.
WB: You’re the sole original member—the sole survivor.
Dukey: You know, I hated doing that. That’s another reason I waited so long. I didn’t want to like, cheapen it, you know? Here’s Fear and the only one in it is Lee Ving or here’s this other band and the only one in it is so-and-so. All the bands that only have one member left.
Erik: It was hard to imagine Haunted Garage without Gaby …
Dukey: Yeah, he’s so dynamic. So when he was doing the revivals with me, it was fine, because it was me and Gaby. But after that it was like, I don’t know. I didn’t know whether it would work or not. But I had to just give it a shot, because I needed to do something.
WB: What’s the story with Peter Rottentail?
Erik: Yeah, what is the story? The first time I saw that thing, it starts grabbing me.
Sean: It almost knocked me over, dude.
Dukey: We used to have a demon suit for that, for “Welcome to Hell.” But we don’t got no demon suit no more. So my girlfriend is like a borderline furry. She’s got some furry costumes and stuff like that She decided to give me that costume for my birthday one night.
At the La Habra Bowl, they have furry bowling on Saturday afternoon. She wants to go, but she works on Saturday. So we might start one out here.
WB: That can’t be easy to bowl in a full furry costume.
Erik: I was gonna say, they must put the bumpers up or something.
Dukey: You know, I think they just roll it [mimes throwing a ball from between his legs] like that.
WB: So was that Amber in the rabbit costume?
Dukey: No, that was a friend of ours. Nick, from the Radioactive Chicken Heads. But I may put Amber in the flying monkey suit.
WB: Whatever happened to the demon costume?
Dukey: Oh, that foam rubber just deteriorates.
WB: I always wondered how the GWAR guys handle that.
Dukey: Well, they have VacuForm machines. They just make another one.
WB: Did you ever play with those guys?
Dukey: You know, they say we have and I swear we didn’t. But we’re friends with them. We were at their shows.
Dukey: Right. Screamin’ Jay Hawkins.
WB: Oh, really?
Dukey: Yeah. That was amazing.
WB: He’s one of your influences, I understand.
WB: As far as the sound of the band goes…I was listening to Possession Park earlier today and it sounds pretty close to what you were just playing. But do they kind of bring their own flavor to it?
Dukey: They can play with it. It’s pretty close in structure as long as they get all the chords right and everything like that.
WB: There were a few things that sounded a little more Sabbath-y…
Sean: Yeah, everything’s down a whole step.
Dukey: And the solos are very whatever they feel like doing.
WB: Are there plans to release any more Haunted Garage material? Old demos or any new stuff?
Dukey: Yeah, two people and Sean, too, want to record for us.
WB: Oh, so it’ll be new recordings?
Dukey: Yeah. Basically doing each other a favor so they can have production credits. So new material will be coming out. And then there are a few more songs of the old band that I want these guys to learn.
Andy: “Little Green Men.” I’ve been seeing it on all the threads.
WB: Had any of you guys done stuff like this in your previous bands, with costumes and all? Or is this pretty new?
Andy: I was more black metal/thrash type stuff.
Brian: I might enjoy being in Haunted Garage because of my prop-rock pedigree.
Erik: Besides being in Haunted Garage 12 years ago, 22 years ago, I walked out on the band in San Francisco. It was just too much for me. I was like, these guys are too fuckin’ crazy, so I actually walked out on the band that I’m in now.
WB (to Dukey): Do you have to do things differently now to take care of your voice and your body?
Dukey: Yeah, I have to do a lot more stretching and back exercises and stuff like that. And I used to be all over the fuckin’ stage and I can’t do that so much anymore. But, this one person I’m seeing for my health says I’m still not too old to reverse some of the aging process. Sixty is the new forty, I guess.
WB: How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?
Dukey: I’m pushing sixty. I’ll be sixty next April. But I only feel it in my joints.
WB: I have to ask, how did the mousetraps on the face come about?
Dukey: You gotta just [make] do with what’s around. There used to be a big prop house in Hollywood and I would go raid their trash cans at night. I got all these papier mâché cow heads one night from the trash there and we stuck ‘em up on this wall and threw the wall into the audience and had people smash them. We found this old antique fat shaker machine on somebody’s lawn and just went and used that for “Torture Dungeon.” Stuff like that.
Brian: People used to think those made you lose weight?
Dukey: Yeah, but they don’t. [laughs] I was doing that shit every night for two months and never lost a single pound. It was really fun when you put it up high—you could sing like the munchkins.
So anyway, I knew a lot of people in the S&M club scene that was just starting to come up at that time. It was just like, what am I gonna do with [all] these things? I don’t know how the idea came into my head, but it was like…OK, mousetraps.
WB: It’s an intense image.
Dukey: It’s not that bad. The rat traps after awhile hurt but the mousetraps are not that bad. I did play pierce my eye bags one night. That was kinda gnarly.
Erik: That’s a very delicate area.
Dukey: It was. I got shiners afterwards. [sounds of disgust from the band]
WB: Did you do that in a show or in the comfort of your own home?
Dukey: In a show. I’ve got it on film.
WB: That’s intense.
Dukey: It was intense.
Erik: More or less intense than a roman candle up your ass?
Dukey: Yeah, that was at a party. [laughs] I’ve still got the scar from that. I just don’t think like other people do. I don’t want to put myself in a certain league, but other artists that I like a lot think different, too, like Doug Stanhope, Sam Kinison, Frank Zappa, Captain Beefheart…
WB: Screamin’ Jay Hawkins.
Dukey: Screamin’ Jay Hawkins. When I was a kid, I saw some puppets do “I Put a Spell on You” and I was fuckin’ blown away. “Mom! Get me this record!”
WB: What’s the craziest live show any of you have been to?
Andy: I think Rammstein, when the guy came out on fire shooting lasers out of his eyes. That was pretty badass.
Sean: I have to think. I’ve seen so many shows so I have to clear the cobwebs. I don’t know, I mean, for me, that wasn’t really my cup of tea. I was more of a musician. I would go see musician bands. Like, everybody was into Kiss and I was into Queen at that time. Fuck Kiss, I hate that band. They suck.
Erik: They do. They’re terrible.
Sean: My very first concert that I ever went to in my entire life was Judas Priest when I was like seventeen years old. I saw them on the Defenders of the Faith tour in 1983. They had this huge stage thing with the monster with the claw that came out. [Rob Halford] comes out on a Harley. They opened with “Love Bites” and it was ridiculously loud. I was probably 15 feet from the stage. They hit that first note and I turned to my buddy and was like, “We are not standing here.” It felt like somebody was squeezing my head. So much sound pressure. It was insane. But they were great.
There’s a band out of Kalamazoo, Michigan called the God Bullies that’s pretty wild. There’s a really famous place in Kalamazoo called Club Soda. The Stooges used to play there back in the day. When I saw the God Bullies there, the bass player came out in a full clown outfit and stood with his back to the audience the whole time. The lead singer, I remember he had on these super-tight patent white leather pants and super-tight patent white leather jacket. No shirt. And he had this huge bulge, like down to his knee. And halfway through the show, he opens up his pants and pulls it out, and it’s a rotten squash. And he took this rotten squash and squashed it all over his body. They were really good musicians, too, but that’s probably the closest thing to this band that I’ve seen.
WB: Brian, what about you?
Brian: Strangely, I didn’t see many performance-type bands before I was in Insecto. But being in bands, I’ve always been kind of obsessed with musical power. Like you know, certain bands just seem to have that laser focus. My favorite band from my youth is Jane’s [Addiction]. They always had that. It was four people just musically focused [who] would punch you in the face every time you saw a show. From a musical standpoint, that’s always my goal, to have that wall of power.
Erik: Oddly enough, Judas Priest back when I was a kid in high school, too. I saw them in ’78, on the Hell Bent for Leather tour, with the motorcycle on the stage. And then the next time they came around [was] Screaming for Vengeance. That was the first time I took a full dose of acid, too. My ears were ringing the next day. The twin guitars…
Andy: Yeah. K.K. Downing, Glenn Tipton. You can’t beat those guys.
Erik: As far as what I can actually pull off playing, K.K.’s the guy, you know? Delay, whammy bar, wah pedal and just a lot of spirit.
Okay, so we didn’t dress up as zombies for the 6th annual Long Beach Zombie Walk. Instead of brains, we feasted on bacon-and-gorgonzola sliders from the Me So Hungry food truck. But hey, we were there to document. I didn’t want to get zombie gore all over my camera phone. (Except that I kind of did anyway. More on that in a moment.)
Zombies are great and all, but we were mainly there to see the bands. Radioactive Chicken Heads, Rosemary’s Billygoat, Haunted Garage and Metalachi, all in one lineup? We’d eat our mothers’ brains with a spoon to check that out.
Sadly, we missed Radioactive Chicken Heads, which was extra frustrating because we got there during the last 15 minutes of their set and just couldn’t find the entrance. Event security staff were in full-on zombie mode, too. “How do we get in?” we kept asking, at barricade after barricade. “Ugh,” they’d reply, pointing vaguely back in the direction we’d just come from. Who do we have to eat to get into this thing?
We finally figured it out just in time to have about an hour to kill before the next set, by Rosemary’s Billygoat. We passed the time watching a lame wrestling show, a slightly less lame burlesque act, having more event staff zombie conversations about how to buy beer (“Where do I go to get my ID checked?” “Ugh! Ugggghhhh!!”) and, of course,
people zombie watching. Not everybody went full undead for the occasion, but among the ones who did, there were some pretty cool makeups. Here’s our personal favorite, the only one we saw from which people actually recoiled in horror.
Incidentally, I’m glad to see he wore his earplugs. Just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you can’t take precautions again tinnitus.
Finally. Rosemary’s Billygoat took the stage, and they did not disappoint. Frontman Mike Odd is a serious showman, entering on stilts through the crowd and performing their first head-banger strapped to an electric chair.
Throughout their set, R’s BG pushed the prop-rock envelope. There were pizzas sliced up into pentagrams. There were hearses spun in circles through the audience. There was a flaming baby carriage for their cover of “Hell Is for Children” by that “horror queen” (as Mike Odd referred to her), Pat Benatar. There was a flaming guitar, which I failed to get a decent picture of, but I’m posting a picture of it anyway because I love that one of the spectators in the foreground is a giant brain. [Update: We have since received a great shot of the flaming guitar from none other than Mr. Mike Odd himself. Thanks, Mike!]
The show ended with what looked like Manute Bol in a werewolf costume stumbling through the crowd. It was all quite the rock ‘n’ roll spectacle.
Next up: Haunted Garage, the recently rebooted splatter-punk ensemble led by the inimitable Dukey Flyswatter, looking fetching in an apron made of human skin (note the screaming face visible near the hem) and ass-crack-revealing biker shorts. (I failed to get a decent photo of Dukey’s ass-crack. To all humanity, my humblest apologies.) Oh yeah, and those things on his face? Mousetraps. Even the guy with the super-gross zombie makeup was probably like, “Woah, dude. Hardcore.”
“This is our first Halloween show in 20 fuckin’ years!” Dukey proudly announced. They tore through a short but furious set of Haunted Garage classics, from “Welcome to Hell” and “Bitch Like You” to “Incredible Two-Headed Transplant” and “Brain in a Jar” (complete with, yes, a brain in a jar, like something you’d see at the checkout counter of a zombie convenience store). The stage show was stripped down compared to Rosemary’s Billygoat (“We’re building it back up,” Dukey promised), but what they lacked in flaming baby carriages they more than made up for with energy, intensity and spewage. Right after “Welcome to Hell,” Dukey scored a direct hit on me and several other folks in the front row with a well-sprayed mouthful of what looked like blood but which I believe was Jack Daniels, Coke and red food coloring. At least that’s what it tasted like. Yeah, he caught me mouth-breathing, that bastard. What can I say? I was slack-jawed with admiration at their horror-punk onslaught.
The whole band tore it up, but special recognition has to go to guitarist Erik Erath, whose screaming leads took the whole band into Priest/Maiden territory. Not bad for a guy whose brains appeared to be leaking out of his forehead.
Oh, did I mention the giant, demonic rabbit? That’s Peter Rotten Tail, who came out and danced around for a song or two. There was also a flying monkey and some go-go dancers called the Gore Gore Girls. But Dukey was always the center of attention. That guy’s a true rock ‘n’ roll maniac.
After Haunted Garage, we stumbled over to a whole second fenced-off area for the Zombie Walk, which isn’t really a walk anymore—more like an aimless milling about, which I suppose is more zombie-like, come to think of it. Anyway, the headliners in this smaller area were L.A.’s preeminent metal mariachi band, Metalachi. We’ve already described the awesomeness that is a Metalachi show, so I won’t give a full recap here; I’ll just note that I believe they rocked this poor gentleman’s fucking face off:
So in perusing the music lineup for this Saturday’s Long Beach Zombie Walk, Andy and I realized that there are a lot of weird bands right in our own backyard that haven’t made it onto the Weird List yet. Clearly, we need to get out more. I blame my Xbox. Have you guys played GTA5 yet? Holy Christ. Shit’s basically gamer meth. Now what were we talking about?
Oh yeah: Weird L.A. bands, many of whom will be in Long Beach this weekend rockin’ out for a bunch of zombies. Including this week’s WBOTW, Rosemary’s Billygoat.
Rosemary’s Billygoat is a costumed comedy cock-rock four piece that’s been kicking around our City of Lost Angels since the early ’90s. And yes, I know “costumed comedy cock-rock” is way too much alliteration for a Wednesday, but that’s what the music of Rosemary’s Billygoat does to me. It’s like if you threw AC/DC and GWAR into a pentagram-shaped MMA cage and made them hurl gnarly riffs and hunks of animal flesh at each other until they conjured up a goat-headed demon army that then proceeded to devour both bands and absorb their power.
I won’t go into the full RB backstory here because a guy named Paul K. from the band Imperial Butt Wizards already nailed it. But here, because I’m a lazy bastard, is a brief excerpt:
The fledgling group went through a number of drummers, none of whom were truly capable of understanding Mike [Odd, lead singer] and Neal [Gargantua, guitarist]‘s world view, until they happened upon a part-time motorcycle racer and demolition derby driver by the name of Paul Bearer. The only audition this Evil Knievel of the trap set needed was revealing that once, while working for a moving company, he had stolen a pair of Rod Stewart’s pants (they’re the tight leopard- skin ones; every once in a while, when he’s feeling generous towards the rest of humanity, Paul will wear them on stage). It turned out to be a fortuitous choice: pants aside, Paul proved to be one of the top drummers in Los Angeles, a serious student of percussion, something like Ginger Baker but with a personality.
I guess early Billygoat shows featured a big furry cross upon which Mike Odd would crucify himself, and something called a “flaming pizza of death” and possibly cross-dressing, although that last one is from Wikipedia and Wikipedia is often full of shit.
Eventually they decided to take their own name more literally and went for more of a Satanic goat horn motif. They built helmets with horns, hats with horns…even one of Neal Gargantua’s guitars has giant fucking goat horns on it. If they ever add a keyboard player to their lineup, you know they’ll have the poor bastard gluing goat horns onto his expensive Roland electric piano. Except that’ll never happen, because like any self-respecting Sabbath/AC/DC-influenced metal band knows, keyboards are for pussies.
Bonus fun fact: Lead singer Mike Odd is also the proprietor of the Rosemary’s Billygoat Odditorium, an online stop carrying such truly odd shit as coffin coffee tables and belt buckles shaped like Cthulhu. Apparently he actually had an Odditorium storefront in Hollywood for awhile, but like most cool things in Hollywood, it was forced out by gentrification and is now probably a Pinkberry’s or some shit. He also does what I believe is a children’s show called Dr. Odd’s Medicine Show. At least it’s the kind of show I’d take my children to see. Good thing I don’t have any.
Speaking of shows: Here’s a live clip of Rosemary’s Billygoat in action. Can’t wait to see these guys throw down at the Zombie Walk. It’s gonna be goat brains for everyone!
I’ll wrap up this post with “Hobbit Feet,” which as far as I know is Rosemary’s Billygoat’s latest audiovisual masterpiece. It’s a tender love ballad about how one little physical abnormality can ruin an otherwise perfectly good hot chick. Or maybe it’s about how that one unique attribute makes a hot chick all that much hotter. It’s an artistic meditation on beauty that raises more questions than it answers, is what I’m saying. And hey, there’s probably cosplay freaks dressed up like hobbits knockin’ big furry hobbit boots as I write this. Who are we to judge?
Yesterday, somebody named Raffy posted a link on our Dwarr page to the trailer for a “coming soonish” film called DWARR 2012 TOUR: a jankumentary. Could this be the first ever Dwarr documentary? And how the fuck did they film a tour that, last we heard, was totally canceled? Like most things involving reclusive stoner-rock legend Duane Warr, it’s a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a haze of bong smoke and reverb.
Here’s what we know: The company behind the “jankumentary” is called Bumbleton Communications. Raffy is listed on their website as Raffy Gerard, “Creative Artifex.” They seem to like making up words, these Bumbleton people.
The guy listed as Bumbleton CEO is Adam Ridley, the director of most or all their projects, which also include documentaries about another outsider musician named Dane Sturgeon and a pervy bar owner in Tucson called God. All of which bodes well for the coming Dwarr docu…sorry, jankumentary.
Anyway, here’s that trailer, which is a bit dark but seems to show Duane Warr rocking out before a rapt audience. Where the hell was this thing filmed? If we can squeeze more details out of Raffy and Bumbleton, we’ll share them here. Stay tuned.
Hey, you know that one Swedish metal band whose lead singer dresses up like an evil pope? Know why we haven’t added them to the Weird List yet? Cuz they’re fucking posers, that’s why. This week’s weird band is fronted by an actual, practicing Capuchin monk. So kneel before Fratello Metallo, all you Ghost fans, and pray for forgiveness.
The story goes like this: Back in the early ’90s, Father Cesare Bonizzi attended a Metallica concert. Why? No one seems to know why, just roll with it. Anyway, the good friar was blown away by the energy of the performance and decided to start his own metal band, figuring he might be able to turn a few impressionable young kids on to God in the process. He called both the band and himself “Fratello Metallo,” which is Italian for “Brother Metal.” Pretty catchy, right?
For some reason, no one really cottoned to a sixty-something Capuchin monk howling metal anthems in Italian until about five years ago, when Bonizzi released his 10th album…or maybe it was his 18th, if you wanna believe this Reuters video, or his second, if you wanna believe the Metal Archives. That album, Misteri, got all sorts of international press and scored Fratello Metallo an opening slot at Gods of Metal, Italy’s biggest music festival. They played before headliners Judas Priest. Bet the Gods of Metal organizers high-fived each other when they came up with that one.
Anyway, all the sudden attention apparently overwhelmed poor Father Bonizzi, who after all was still a fucking monk. Last I checked, they’re not really in the habit (monk pun!) of preaching the Good Word to thousands of screaming, drunken heshers. So in 2009, barely a year after Fratello Metallo started really blowing up, Bonizzi pulled the plug on the whole metal-monk thing and went back to his convent.
The music of Fratello Metallo was no big shakes. Mostly, they sounded like a bar band that had just started writing their own stuff after playing Iron Maiden and Dio covers for 10 years. Although you gotta admit, Father Cesare’s metal howl at 2:30 is pretty badass for a 62-year-old.
But what really earns Fratello Metallo a spot on our Weird List was their live shows. It’s not every day you see an actual Capuchin monk in the full beard and friar’s robe rocking out with a bunch of hairy metal dudes. I bet all the other monks still give him shit about it. “Hey, remember that time you tried to be a rock star? Good luck flagellating away that one, buddy!”
Stoner rock pranksters Ween may have called it quits last year, and Mickey “Dean Ween” Melchiondo may be more into fishing these days than music, but that doesn’t mean he’s hung up his axe for good. In fact, in this cool new video from Noisey, Vice’s music blog spinoff, he proves he’s still got chops for days—even though he also claims to have only played two different solos his entire career. (For you fledgling young guitarists out there: They’re lifted from the Allman Brothers’ “Blue Sky” and Funkadelic‘s “Maggot Brain.” Look ‘em up!)
Over the course of a rambling conversation/jam sesh with fellow guitarist Matt Sweeney, Dean also breaks down how to play the Ween classic “”Mister, Would You Please Help My Pony?”, argues that Jimmy Page is the greatest sloppy guitarist of all time, and demonstrates the only two proper places for guys to wear their guitar: “It either goes below your dick or over your dick.” So that’s what I’ve been doing wrong all these years! I always assumed it was because I’m tone deaf and never practice.
Spoiler alert: No, they don’t discuss the possibility of a Ween reunion. But our money’s still on Coachella 2014.