Gwar Murders Justin Bieber, Pope Francis, Royal Baby in Fort Lauderdale
Photo by Marta Xochilt Perez
With Band of Orcs, Iron Reagan, and Whitechapel
Revolution Live, Fort Lauderdale
Monday, November 4, 2013
Better Than: Any Halloween party that we've ever attended.
"So, the human race goes bald, gets ugly, and wears a stupid skirt." -- Oderus Urungus
On a drizzly Monday night, Fort Lauderdale was in a for a trick (or treat?), when shock rockers Gwar and three openers showed up for an evening of screaming, moshing, and spraying blood from prosthetic dicks.
So yeah ... If you think this was like any other metal show, you are wrong.
See also: Ten Craziest Fan Cults in Music
Gwar honors its lost scumdog.
Gwar's new album, Battle Maximus, came out on September 17, via Metal Blade Records. And ostensibly, the new slab was the reason behind your lords and masters' stop in Fort Lauderdale.
But this South Florida slaughterama was also part of their tour, Madness at the Core of Time, honoring lost scumdog, Cory Smoot, AKA Flattus Maximus, who unfortunately died last year.
Later, Oderus and his fellow rulers of Earth introduced the latest scumdogs: new bassist Jamison Land, AKA Beefcake the Mighty, and new guitarist Brent Purgason, AKA Pustulus Maximus.
Photo by Marta Xochilt Perez Band of Orcs will enslave you.
Earlier that wretched evening, though, Band of Orcs, a bunch of freaks who look like they could possibly be characters from The Lord of the Rings (or a Gwar casting call), terrorized the captive crowd.
This five-piece collective from Santa Cruz, California, makes music that's been labeled as fantasy metal. And yeah, it was kinda like J. R. R. Tolkien screaming some awesome gibberish about good and evil (although it was mostly evil) into your bleeding ears.
Meanwhile, the Orc ringleader's mic stand was an axe. And it was utilized anytime the band's stage slave acted up. Shut up, gimp!
Photo by Marta Xochilt Perez Iron Reagan: Not from outer space.
The second band, Iron Reagan, didn't wear costumes. (Of course, you could consider skinny jeans, long hair, bandanas, and band shirts to be a costume.)
Born in 2012 in Richmond, Virginia (and not originating from outer space), these four guys were very thrash-y and they kept every song fast and short. The guitar riffs were speedy. The drums were thumping. And soon, the mosh pit started to stir.
Photo by Marta Xochilt Perez Whitechapel .
The third and final opening band, Whitechapel, was the hardest and loudest to play that night.
Lead singer Phil Bozeman and his Tennessee crew lived up to the deathcore label with all kinds of murderous sounds: pig squeals, grunts, and growls.
With a name like Whitechapel, we weren't really sure what we were getting ourselves into. But holy shit, that set was epic. Everything about this band had us wishing we were in the pit, from the gruesome vocals to the double bass drums to the face-melting guitars, and even the bass lines.
To end the set, Bozeman asked the crowd to create a wall so they could clash during the start of the next song. And what a beautiful spectacle. It was like Bozeman was Moses (covered in sweat), parting the Red Sea to clear the way for an apocalyptic alien invasion.