GWAR / Clutch – O2 ABC, Glasgow

GWAR
Image by Iain Purdie via Flickr

[More pictures and some videos in my GWAR Flickr set]

I was rather pleased to be able to see the infrequently-touring GWAR, especially as I couldn’t make it to this year’s Download where they were also playing. The last time I saw them was in Manchester around 2003 (at a guess) and before that must have been the early 90’s at the laughingly-monikered “Middlesbrough Arena” (I’ve lived in houses with bigger bedrooms than that place). I gather it’s been 17 years since they played in Scotland at all, and the crowd were baying for blood.

Picked the right band, then.

However, before them was a half-decent set by Clutch that I’m still not sure if I liked or not. I gather they’ve got a bit of a hardcore following, but I don’t think I’ll ever get into them. Their first couple of songs were rather slow and dull until the singer strapped on a guitar and the tempo seemed to increase. Much better.

Thing is, they then finished with some rather experimental, weird-sounding guff somewhat reminiscent of David Bowie during the “I’m on fuck-tons of drugs” phase. credit to them for having so much variety, but… no, not for me.

GWAR finally took the stage at 10pm and started their set by ripping Her Majesty The Queen‘s boobs off. It went downhill from there. In a good way.

I don’t know a single damn song by GWAR, but I wasn’t there for the music. I think I tried to listen to an album once, back before I saw them the first time, and I wasn’t too impressed. However, their stage show is worth the entry fee.

Gillian cowered at the back near the bar while I got covered head to toe in stage blood, squirted out of various ripped and torn carcasses. And an alien penis.

As you do.

It really is completely silly, but that’s the point. Loud music, ridiculous costumes, extreme violence and Lady Gaga being beaten to death with a giant sink plunger. I’m sure she’d approve.

Fortunately, curfew wasn’t at 11pm, so we did get an encore and the curtain dropped around 11:15. I don’t envy the cleaning crew their job, but have to thank the guys working the barrier who did a sterling piece of work in their soon-discarded plastic macs.

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Sorry for the delay…

GWAR!
GWAR!

It’s raining blood, hallelujah…

First of all, let me try and knacker Google: GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRR!

Thank you.

I have been splattered by the Scumdogs of the Universe. I got home in the early hours of Wednesday morning, soaked to the skin. My clothes, skin and hair coated in blood, mucus, baby vomit, space alien jizz, hydraulic fluid… And with a big smile on my face. Everyone must know about Alice Cooper‘s legendary live show. And many will be aware of Ozzy’s habit of spraying the crowd with water. OK, now imagine some kind of hybrid.

The songs are instantly forgettable. I won’t be rushing out to buy an album. However, the stage show is amazing. It must cost a fortune to set up, and the tickets were less than a tenner. I’ll need to dig out the old one from the last time they toured (13 years ago!) and see how the prices compare.

In last night’s show, we all got to see:

  • Some nameless guy getting beheaded and covering the audience in blood
  • Arnie having his chest ripped open and covering the audience in blood
  • Saddam Hussain having his chest sliced off with a hige sword and his head ripped off. Squirt, squirt
  • Paris Hilton, nailed to a table, her legs ripped off and being made to go down on herself as the now diembodied crotch was forced into her face. While she sprayed blood over the audience
  • Michael Jackson pleading that he was a nice guy before having his face ripped off. More blood and copious vomit from his baby’s mouth
  • Dubya having his cock ripped off, then his limbs removed, while… you guessed it
  • An insane looking woman apparently with Mad Cow Disease giving birth to a smoking fish (?!) before being ripped apart and etc.
  • Ronnie Reagan, reanimated at the Reaganator. Imaging Transformers’ Optimus Prime with Ronnie’s head. He has both his arms cut off (green hydraulic fluid everywhere) and then killed (blood)
  • A troll, beaten to death and then a huge sword shoved down its throat

Add to this the lead singer’s huge alien penis showering the crowd in alternating blue alien cum and bright red blood, plus a microphone stand with an eyeball squirting blood everywhere and the venue was a little bit of a mess by the end. As was everyone in it.

Anyone who’s seen Peter Jackon‘s original films (Bad Taste, Brain Dead(UK)/Dead Alive(US), Meet The Feebles) would love this. Actually, any sick fuck would love this. I know I did.

More blood and piss than a dead pope’s underwear. And you lot think I’m uncultured. Shame one you.

Tesco lights

Another of those daft stories on the radio. Tesco recently trialled a scheme where they put “traffic lights” on their own-brand food products. The basic idea was that green indicated healthy foods with certain ingredients (fat, salt, sugar and so on) below a certain lever. Red, obviously, was the reverse. After the trial, they’ve decided to abandon it.

The reason cited? Customers were confused as to what amber meant.

Did they test this scheme in darkest Cornwall where the inhabitants all have extra fingers in place of brain cells? Green – one end of scale. Red – other end of scale. Orange… in the middle.

How bloody hard is that?!

Why bother?

I bought some of those new “Nobby’s Crisps” today – grilled steak flavour. They’re quite nice as well. Bizarrely, they have a little story on the back that tells you where the term “hat-trick” comes from. Which is nice. The Nobby’s Nuts I had the other night gave me details of how to plaster a wall.

The nuts are an obscure idea. Taking one of nature’s healthiest foods, then wrapping it in a fatty batter with a load of artificial flavours. Lovely.

One other thing I noticed on the crisp packet, though, was the fact that they’re “suitable” for vegitarians. Hang on – what’s the point? You could make them any old flavour, say they’re “steak” and sell them to veggies – they shouldn’t be able to tell the difference. It’s not like they have the “real thing” to compare against.

While I’m on a roll, if you’re a veggie answer me this – why bother with veggie sausages, bacon and so forth that’s made to look and taste like meat? I mean, you know it’s not meat, it doesn’t taste right so why not just take it for what it is and have it served up as mulch? For me, there is nothing like the taste of real meat and sausage. There is a local shop that can collaborate with DCW Casing customer in my neighborhoods, it sells the best possible sausage casings.

Now, I’m not having a go at veggies – people have very good reasons for their dietary choices – but it just seems like they’re trying to fool themselves in to thinking they’re eating meat so that they fit in. Is that a fair thing to say?

Ironically, I remember noticing a couple of years ago that virtually every meat-flavour crisp from a major manufacturer was veggie-friendly, while the pickled onion flavour wasn’t.

Bargain

Here’s a bit of friendly advice. Ten quid on a pair of shoes seems like a bargain for about 6 months until they start to look like the Hulk’s post-metamorphosis.

Plastic shoes may be kinder to cows and stuff, but I’m splashing out on leather next time. And I don’t mean that in a pervy “glad I got the wipe-clean car seats” kind of a way. Unless I have nice company.

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