|
At this former burlesque hall, Dead Empty
prepares for their set by taking the time to eliminate the
bass feedback Ben Empty is exuding. Lead singer and
guitarist Evan uses the delay tactic of goofing on
Slayer, complete with faux metal posturing. Encouraging
hoots from the early attendees put a grin on his face. To
the satanic saluting underagers, he jokes, "We can’t
play that good. There’s a reason I chose punk." And there
most certainly is. As Dead Empty begins performing their "rock
show intro", it’s obvious this Philadelphia crew are
savoring every second. A bit of punchy hardcore, but more
street punk than I was expecting. The pleasing tunes stick
like mad. Evan’s comfort with the position he’s taken shows
in his likeable smile and affable repartee. Plus he jokes
around a lot. What draws me down to the floor is Ben Empty’s
fantastic feedbackless bass lines. It was worth the wait to
get the rich tones and unique runs he plunked down. Guitarist
Andy scrubs fiercely at his strings in a self-abusive
manner. Andy’s also got his own dynamic presence working as
he responds to Evan’s calls. The creative chord choices these
fellows make shows they are constructing lasting, independent
songs. The Cramps-looking Dave Glass is full
of precision beats on those leopard skins. Near the end of
the satisfying set, a few kids circle timidly down front in
an introductory ritual skank. Unfortunately, the vocal levels
were too low to make out, a problem which continued through
the evening.
 |
The Boils have recently acquired
a new guitar player, and I mean new. So new they haven’t even
learned his name. Looking all of 15, he climbs onstage and
starts plugging in. I figure he must be working crew. Then
his slightly older buddy Warren mounts the drum kit.
Confused, I ask around if The Boils are next. Greg
straps on (not for the last time tonight) and heads to the
mike. He worries out loud about the altitude as Dave
slings his bass. When they cock back, the kid with the guitar
bigger than himself explodes all over the stage. All that’s
visible from behind the purple guitar body are thin legs springing,
blurry arms cranking and a red head jerking uncontrollably.
Poor Greg, who is, "Feeling like shit" in the first
place is so completely upstaged that he comes across like
Archie Bunker. Warren knocks his cymbals over early
on, which may account for the light drum sound. Or it may
be out of respect for Dead Empty’s kit. I can see he’s hitting
in time but not much is reaching me. At one point the kid
acknowledges his chaperones in the audience, which adds to
my wonderment of this cradle-robbing. The songs are good if
standard street fare, and Greg draws energy from the geyser
of youth bounding on the stage beside him. Especially when
he announces the last song, he kicks in everything he’s been
saving up. Jumping about, laying aside his guitar and bonding
with the kids down front. The convulsing new guy, fresh from
soccer practice both steals and saves the show, giving the
strength for Greg to fulfill his leads.
 |
Shirtless, but fully decorated Craig
brings The Forgotten on followed closely by Dkash
and Johnny Bleach Jeans. They give little time for
the freshly green haired (and fellow Ant-person) Gordy
to get to the front. Gordy is an engaging performer, gesturing,
striking out and posing for various photo ops. It’s a real
treat to hear their songs delivered in person. Again the singing
is buried in the mix. Craig has got to be the embodiment of
all that is punk. Thirty seconds into the set, his rippling
tattooed body is dripping with sweat. No exaggeration. By
the apex, it is literally pouring off him. The guitar is completely
wet and sweat and spit are dripping from the mike. It’s inconceivable
how the guy can hold a pick and crank out the manic tunes
he does. He and Bleach Jeans lurch mikeward and bark out choruses
that the rest of us help out on. Greg smirks, stomps
and jumps about in oversized creepers, directing Dkash’s crashing
as he incites the crowd. Through most of the material from
Vini Vidi Vici, intermingled with about half of Keep
The Corpses Quiet, the pit is a riot of activity. When
Gordy yells out "Here’s one you all know," they
do and of course I don’t, damnit. The with-it youngsters are
screaming into the mike, and I’m the old guy in the back once
again.
 |
Germany’s own Oxymoron strikes me
as more hardcore than not, but still a melodic vein. Lead
singer Sucker is sporting the new micro-mini mohawk
in a crayon red hue, like a carpet sweeper with a spider-web
tattooed on his noggin. He’s a large, muscular, menacing fellow,
robotic and militaristic. Not as stiff as muscle-head Rollins,
but if he and Peter Garrett had a child... He does
manage to have fun dancing around self-effacingly in his wifebeater
and bracers. Beyond the appearance, they stand out with the
rhythms. Sometimes they take on a tribal beat or an odd vocal
path. It’s surprisingly inventive stuff here. Sucker is very
captivating, while guitarist Martin comes off like
Adam Clayton--reserved, motionless and not giving away
all his secrets. The bass player holds his position staunchly
until The Boils’ singer Greg appears with an inflatable doll
attached to his frontside, and proceeds to dry-hump the members
of Oxymoron in succession, except Bjoern who seems
oblivious, too busy brutalizing the skins. Dead Empty’s singer
smiles approvingly from the wings while from the pit, his
guitarist and several concert goers rub Sucker’s head and
scream into the mike. The vocals are more audible, but that
may just be Sucker’s enormous vein-popping howl. The delivery
isn’t pared down a bit for the sparse hundred or so in attendance.
Through every performance of this show,
other band members have been visible enjoying the music going
on--either from the pit with the kids, raising a bottle from
the wings, or pushing alongside a bass player to join in the
chorus. And this after seeing each other perform for weeks.
What better example can they give of that eternal punk cry
emblazoned on Craig’s belly--Unity.
— Ewan Wadharmi
Talk Back
post
in the webboard
e-mail the chief
Like this article?
e-mail it to a friend!
|
