The Crass Menagerie

#100 - The Final Issue (Part Four)

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Caught In The Act - Old Live Reviews related to Slap A Ham

SPAZZ / TOTAL FURY / THE OATH / IRON LUNG / FALLING OVER DRUNK

924 Gilman St., Berkeley, CA on Dec. 4^th, 2000

Review by: Jeb

(This review originally appeared in issue #91 of The Crass Menagerie)

The last time I stood in line for six hours for anything was 10 years ago when I was still in college waiting for student loan checks, so I wasn't sure how I was going to handle the requisite wait for this gig. Fortunately I got to visit with multitudes of cool people and the six hour wait didn't seem to last a minute over five hours...

Being one of the first people inside the club made it worth the wait. I was able to score enough bottled water to keep me lucid throughout the night and I was able to establish a position in the crowd that allowed me both a great view of the stage and easy access to the bathroom to dispose of the water as needed.

I had heard horror stories about the first band FALLING OVER DRUNK. That fact combined with their lame moniker lowered my expectations to nil. As is often the case when I expect the worst, I was pleasantly surprised. Although their grindcore flavored sound proved a poor match for the thrashing fury of the other bands on the bill, they still put a smile on my face. Their lack of experience was compensated for by their anvil heavy riffing and the facial contortions of the band's frontman. I think with seasoning they are going to be a good band, especially in the studio which their approach will probably lend itself to. Now if someone can convince them to drop the lame name.

I was more than a little jazzed to see IRON LUNG! Their upcoming album on Satan's Pimp is flat out amazing and with the addition of Mike Cheese (of GEHENNA) on vocals their stage show is stellar. The crowd seemed initially impatient with the band due mostly to the fact that few had ever heard of them (proving hardcore fans can be just as susceptible to "name recognition" idiocy as mainstream fans) and that the band consisted of only guitar, drums and vocals (proving hardcore fans can be as simple minded as mainstream fans) . But once Jon's guitar exploded from the stage as a wall of sound that rattled the chest, Jensen (also of GEHENNA) tried to beat his drum kit to a bloody pulp and Mike went berserk (acting like a caged panther) the crowd was won over. Most people there were keen enough to realize they were witnessing future greatness.

THE OATH were up next and the show kicked into overdrive. This extreme-core super group are loose and frantic on stage. They give it their all, sacrificing life and limb in the name of musical mayhem. Their music is the hardcore equivalent of the proverbial windmill in a hurricane and there was not an unscorched eardrum in the building. When the vocalist broke out a can of spray paint and painted over the word "No" on the "No Stagediving" sign on the club's wall things really took off. Most of the time he was pulling stage divers up on stage faster than security could throw them back into the crowd but anytime security got the upper hand and cleared the stage of divers he would launch himself into the crowd as the ultimate spite. By the time THE OATH were finished the crowd has taken over the stage and wouldn't relinquish it for the rest of the night.

TOTAL FURY from Japan stormed the stage next, proving once and for all that Pearl Harbor was nowhere near the most violent Japanese invasion of U.S. soil. Although there was no doubt that this night belonged to SPAZZ I don't think I would be overstating my case at all to say that TOTAL FURY stole the show. Not only did they have the hyperdrive stage presence of escaped lunatics jacked up on crank, they were the tightest band of the night. Their thrash was as fast and furious as you could ask for but it was also highly melodic and grounded in a more "punk" feel than any other band that night. TOTAL FURY seemed to be having more fun than the crowd and even managed to get a few sing-a-longs going... it was wild, a thrash audience acting like a youth crew crowd. I loved it. When they were done the crowd literally pulled them back on stage and made them do an encore. It was one of the most spontaneous encore's I've ever seen. The simple fact of the matter is TOTAL FURY rules!

When SPAZZ finally took the stage the crowd had so enveloped it that they had about a postage stamp sized area to play in. As they were setting up people around me who had flown halfway around the world to see this show were expressing great concern that they weren't going to be able to see through the hordes of people standing on stage. Leave it to SPAZZ to take care of their fans. Before they played a note Chris Dodge ripped into the crowd in his endearingly amiable way and told people on the stage to "squat the fuck down" so people could see. He then unleashed on people with camcorders telling them not to hold their cameras up so that people behind them couldn't see. He mocked them for being more concerned about getting a tape to sell on eBay than they were about being courteous to the people around them (by the way the earliest eBay sales of video tapes of the show were going for over $35... a sucker is born every minute...) It was such a great rant that the folks with cameras were jostling each other for the best position to film it seemingly oblivious to the point being made. When SPAZZ tore into their first song I knew it was all worth it... the wait in line, the several hundred dollar expense in getting to the show, the crushing crowd... all of it was worth seeing this seminal band tear it up one last time. They gave the set a great mix of old and new, playing stuff from their first 7" all the way through the last album and the just now being released split with 25 TA LIFE. It blew my mind to see people singing along with song after song. I've listened to thousands of hours of SPAZZ and I couldn't even get the song I guest vocaled on right. The maniacal screams of your average SPAZZ song simply don't lend themselves to sing-a-longs but this gaggle of "kids" were the hardest of the hardcore SPAZZ fans and tons of them knew all the words. It was obvious to everyone there that SPAZZ was adored by their minions. I daresay the best loved power violence band ever. SPAZZ played for over 45 minutes which is probably the longest set they have ever done. The end of the set pretty much summed up the SPAZZ experience... "Crush, Kill Destroy!!!" screamed everyone in the building to the chorus of the title track of the latest album.... "Crush, Kill, Destroy!!" is exactly what SPAZZ has done to eardrums the world over for 7 years. And I've loved every minute of it...

Review of the six hour wait in line for the final SPAZZ show

924 Gilman St., Berkeley, CA on Dec. 4th, 2000

Review by: Andy Shank

(This review originally appeared in issue #91 of The Crass Menagerie)

So, we thought we'd drive over early, get some food, see what was in the neighbourhood, then queue (translation for us Yanks "get in line" - Jeb) early so that our five and a half thousand mile journey from Scotland wasn't wasted.

We show up at about 2pm and already there are twenty people waiting in line, so going for a wander gets canned and we take our place with people who, in all probability, wouldn't even be into punk at that age in the UK, interesting to see that Amebix patches make up a stable part of any audience the world over.

Some of us get food, some of us get beer and some of us learn the lesson that not everyone you meet on the internet should be met in person. For the next four hours I am regaled with tales of dormant superheros who only become active when they're on acid and look into the lights, their names are Bike Stealing Man and Hatboy. And here I am, on holiday and trying so hard not be involved in psychiatry, I could've stayed at work for that, but no, it doesn't end there. "Every time I eat pizza, my friend in Germany takes a shit", "my black metal roomie made me cut myself and take up smoking, look!" and best of all "when I'm on acid I have the internet in my brain and it's awesome!" And it would appear that everything's "awesome", even his drunk and abusive father who beats him up. It's a terrible shame to be such a misfit that you don’t even fit into punk circles. Only terrible card tricks from a Pokemon loving computer geek, who I believe was called The Tallest Man Alive, or something, offered a temporary respite.

After several hours, some of us reckon we needn't have been there for so long after all, so, as we're about to go get beer to drink out of one our parties' newly bought mug (thus avoiding incurring the wrath of Gilman's utterly retarded and downright fucking offensive staff, or less problematic, the local pigs), we turn around, the line now goes on for several blocks. So we stay put, there's a swarm of vulture like Spock clones circling our spot, they can sense that we're European and therefore weak in the absence of alcohol.

Freedom comes at just after eight pm, just as well, I'm surrounded by neurotic people who keep counting how many people just joined the queue (used as a noun, not a verb this time - Jeb) and are already in front of them every half an hour and bat shit mental Bike Stealing Man just never gets tired.

Inside, there are a bunch of bands playing, too many people stood in my way, overzealous arseholes who work there and then the reincarnation of Darby Crash says "do you want to see the fucking band or the fucking bouncers?" Thus prompting lots of sweaty men to stand on the stage for the rest of their set and I can't see either anymore. Some band called Spazz play and I dig their crazy brand of stop/ start up-tempo rock and roll very much, they'll certainly be a name to watch out for in the future, their best song was one called 'Squat the Fuck Down'

Live Review----- A diary report from the Slap-A-Ham Fiesta Grande #6

Prepared for The Crass Menagerie by Chris Dodge of Slap-A-Ham Records

(This review originally appeared in issue #59 of The Crass Menagerie)

Day One - January 2nd, 1998

The line to get in was halfway down the block an hour before the show even started. It was raining off & on a bit so I felt sorry for everyone who waited outside. Many people said that the line moved slowly & some towards the end missed the first band or two. This is mostly due to Gilman's membership policy. Everyone needs to have $2 membership cards in order to go to shows there. Memberships are good for a year so consequently all of the out of towners have to buy new memberships each time they come out for the annual Fiesta Grande. It's a drag but those are the rules of the club. My advice to anyone coming to Fiesta Grande has always been "get there early"!

Locals NOOTHGRUSH kicked off this years festivities with their crushing brand of slowcore. Their set included excellent new material plus a surprise GRIEF cover (their way of trying to compensate for the fact that Grief canceled....for the second year in a row even!). Their drummer Chiyo read a section from the Dr. Seuss book where the word "noothgrush" came from, unveiling to many at last where the band's weird name originated. (Ed note: WHAT? Everyone doesn't know about having a noothgrush on their toothbrush? Sheesh. Some of you people need to become parents so that you are Suess literate! - Jeb)

NO LESS was up next with their inimitable style; a welcome last minute addition to the line-up after MAN IS THE BASTARD canceled (also for the second year in a row....hmmm). This five piece from Redwood City defies description. Tons of sampling, crazy time changes, style mixes, endlessly changing riffs, topped off by a four person vocal assault. They were insane as usual and sparked some movement in the crowd.

It was then time for GASP from L.A. to take over. Their guitarist Mike told me earlier, "If you knew what my life was like, you'd know that I always have nothing but bad luck." Unfortunately, that was proven while GASP was setting up. The show was starting to run late according to the Gilman stage manager so they were being pressured to set up quickly. Mike first had to find a guitar cabinet to borrow since his had been left back home. Then they needed some extra cords. Then Mike's brand new guitar head that he had just bought days earlier decided to take a dump. It wasn't working at all so fortunately Jay from NO LESS came to the rescue with a replacement. On top of it all, bassist Sage still had not shown up and no one had seen him since the show started. All throughout this chaos a million people were milling around in every direction and the Gilman stage manager kept yelling at them to play. After a very long delay and after the stage manager screamed repeatedly "Start playing! Fuck! C'mon!" GASP got rolling. Although they were bass-less, GASP completely ruled. They're an amazing, powerful unit that is hard to describe. They combine many elements: extreme heaviness with varying speed changes and trippy, trance-like interludes. Yet unlike most newer bands they aren't derivative. They have a distinct, unique sound and despite the rocky start they kicked into high gear and kicked major booty. After the set, their bass player showed up....his car broke down three times on the way up. Bummer.

EXCRUCIATING TERROR, another late addition (taking over the slot for GRIEF), was next up and this is when the room really came unglued. These East L.A. noisesters have never put on a disappointing show. Quite the opposite. They are the undisputed masters of stripped down, crushing power-thrash. Despite the "No Stage Diving" rule at Gilman, the crowd could not be contained and while E.T. roared thru one blistering song after another, the floor became a swirling mass of flying limbs coupled with several airborne stage divers. If that guy who reported the Hindenburg crash was there, he would have exclaimed, "Oh, the humanity!" These guys are one of the best around, live or on record.

NYC was represented next when BLACK ARMY JACKET took the stage. I'd had the pleasure of seeing these lads several times before but those times paled in comparison to their performance tonite. Now with stickmaster Dave Witte (MAJOR BURNS, DISCORDANCE AXIS, HUMAN REMAINS, EXIT 13, and a zillion other projects) behind the drum kit, B.A.J. has progressed substantially. Their new material is their best yet combining brutality with sophisticated song structures. They blasted thru a good half hour packed with non-stop tonal mayhem topped off by vocalist Rob Lawi's energetic antics. This guy leaps around like a coked-up simian...it's no wonder Admiral Andrew of "Monkeybite" zine is a fellow bandmate, not to mention the superb stylings of Carlos Bassguitarlos. Despite a broken string they capped off the set with a cover of D.R.I.'s "Snap".

As if everyone wasn't satisfied enough, Japan's SENSELESS APOCALYPSE topped off the night like the cherry on top of the proverbial power violence sundae. All five of them, wearing matching white T-shirts, proceeded to leap in every conceivable direction. Every Japanese band I've seen has been full of jumping-bean caliber energy and capable of cranking out an unmatched typhoon of hardcore fury. S.A. upholds this tradition. Mixing crazed thrash tunes and A.C. like noise eruptions, S.A. brought the place to its knees with the whole room shouting for more.

Day Two - January 3rd, 1998

There was a full house both nights, but traditionally even more people pack in on Saturday. Like lil' crusty sardines, everyone smashed in to see GODSTOMPER open the second nights festivities. Just because they were opening didn't mean they were gonna let people forget by the end of the night that they had played. This screwy two-piece band (bass +vocals & drums only) not only laid on some righteous feedback-drenched noisecore, but they jumped around like asylum escapees....so much that by the end, Paul (bass guy) and Danny (drum guy) were kicking at each other and throwing their equipment around. The drum set was demolished to rubble and Danny did some funky dance moves over the remains while Paul moved like a kindergardener having Ritalin withdrawals. Excellent.

The long underrated LACK OF INTEREST was next and it seems they're finally getting the respect they deserve. The crowd flipped for 'em. With the exception of drummer Deep Six Bob, these guys are all pretty damn large....the type of boys who would have been called "husky" when they were little. Musically the SoCal quartet laid it on thick with their brand of high speed gruffcore. After a breakneck set, the crowd demanded more & made 'em take the stage again...and that's something that doesn't happen everyday at Gilman, especially with an opening band.

Then it was time for SoCal pals PHOBIA to rock out. Playing all newer material, these guys obliterated everything in their path. They've changed their style since the early Relapse days & their new tunes contain the same heaviness but with a more raw, stripped-down approach to songwriting, kind of like "Enslavement"-era Napalm Death. Vocalist Shane has chopped off his trademark locks so his shaved dome combined with his hyperactive chimp stage antics make him look like a singer for a straight edge band rather than frontman for the most punishing post-grind outfit in existence. Can't wait to hear their new LP!

CAPITALIST CASUALTIES was scheduled next but Florida's ASSHOLE PARADE decided they'd rather swap places on the bill, so the Gainesville gaggle of "Southeast emo-violence" gangsters hit the stage next. I had the pleasure of seeing these guys several times during the '97 Spazz U.S. Tour, but their performance this evening even blew those previous shows out of the water. They're now a 5-piece, having recently added a second guitarist, and they're more intense than ever. Despite too many pauses for tuning, they raged thru a short set of tightly-wound insane anthems. The crowd blew a gasket and the room nearly turned upside down but then sadly it was all over too soon.

The A-holes paraded off stage and Fiesta Grande veterans CAPITALIST CASUALTIES entered to show us all how it's done. They're the only band to play every single Slap A Ham Fiesta Grande to date! These Bay Area titans ruled the stage with an iron fist, as expected. Thundering thru an onslaught of new & old favorites, these seasoned pros leveled the room with their archetypal West Coast power violence. Newer stickman Max was a bit nervous at Fiesta Grande #5 having only been in CAPITALIST for a few months, but here at Fiesta Grande #6 he was cool as a cucumber having adapted to his role as rhythm master for one of the all time classic bands in the genre. CAPITALIST is one of those bands who can do no wrong and having been around for well over 10 years now, it seems like the only time they'll break up is when the members start kicking off from old age. Until then it's likely we'll be seeing 'em well thru Fiesta Grande #50.

Returning for the second year in a row, SLIGHT SLAPPERS closed the festivities with their spastic antics. These Japanese high jumpers played like they were on vacation from the looney bin. Lots of frantic fastcore that made everyone drop their drawers. All in attendance should have just formed a single-file line and bent over cuz the SLAPPERS kicked our collective ass. Tons of screaming, leaping thru the air, blurred barre chords, and zillion m.p.h. thrashing going on during their set. It was a blissful ending to a successful weekend.

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End of Part Four