 |
The Worley Gig: Music and Mayhem in New York City with Gail Worley
The Year of the Pig It wasn't until November that I attended the mind-blowing concert event of 1997. When the call came from Maria at TVT records, inviting me to KMFDM's upcoming show at Roseland, I was way into it. KMFDM's newest attempt at sonic annihilation, whose title is a series of symbols representing various types of destruction, kicks major synth-butt and I'm always up for an old-fashioned industrial stomp fest. My admiration for the bands' ability to use their name in just about every song they've recorded being exceeded only by my excitement at the prospect of witnessing an all-star line up that rivals a Pigface show - both Ogre from Skinny Puppy and Tim Skold appear on this tour - I kicked up my steel-toed boot heels in anticipation. The deal clincher: Maria told me Pig would be opening the show. Well, I was there already! Raymond "Pig" Watts, a founding member of KMFDM, wrote their massive dance hit, "Juke Joint Jezebel," and has collaborated with every fringe dwelling industrial artist from Einsturzende Neubauten to Foetus. His compositions resemble the soundtrack for a musical that might be performed in an abattoir, while his malevolent growl never fails to give me nightmares of a whole new genre should I try to nap while a Pig record is playing. Watts' recent release, Wrecked, another foray into his four walled world of violence, sex, and violent sex, is firmly wedged on my top ten list for 1997. And in case I forgot to mention: Raymond Watts is 6'3" of stone-solid gorgeousness. The stroke of 7:30 PM (scheduled show start time) found me 1) alone in the VIP area, and 2) feeling quite awkward. I ran off to the ladies room to powder and fluff, returning to find the area still mostly vacant, save for three people seated at one of the reserved tables, so my geekiness had an audience. When the security guard took pity and seated me at a table he said would be unclaimed, I truly felt blessed by a higher force. Now, picture me at the foremost seat of Roseland's VIP section, strategically placed fifteen feet before stage with my feet dangling over open air and nothing between me and Raymond Watts but the photo pit. I was poised and ready to squeal. Prerecorded tapes of snorting swine signaled the upcoming Sturm und Drang, as Pig claimed the stage, opening with "Serial Killer Thriller" from last year's Sinsation CD. Decked out in a silver Fire fighter's jacket, knee high boots, Indiana Jones-style hat and black raccoon eye make-up obscuring that pretty face of his, Watts embodied the kind of insane rock star decadence I've been itching to see again since Marilyn Manson became a laughable caricature of himself. Amid te relentless, pounding cacophony that is Pig's music, Watts prowled the stage like an unrestrained beast; pouring whisky over his head, spraying the audience with beers and the striking the occasional Jesus Christ pose for dramatic effect. It was like Elvis meets Satan or something. Live, his voice is just as menacing and seductive as it is on record and he doesn't let his self-abusive theatrics distract him from rocking out like nobody's business. What a showman! I don't know how he had time to catch his breath as he furiously spat out favorites from both Sinsation and Wrecked like "Find it, Fuck It, Forget It" (the T-Shirt slogan of the moment), "No One Gets Out of Her Alive" and my personal favorite "Painiac." As Pig left the stage, Watts ripped off his sweat-soaked shirt and threw it into the crowd. It was probably in a million pieces by the time it hit the ground. I wish it had landed on me. Pig made Nine Inch Nails look like Hanson. And this was only the opening act! Time for the main event! The sight of a towering, bald-headed En Esch sporting a black mini dress and fishnet stockings was enough to remind me what a KMFDM live show is all about: Freaks. Well, freaks and excellent aggressive music. "Megalomaniac" an autobiographical dance-rap manifesto - in which the band declare themselves "Better than the best" - appropriately represented the theme for the evening: "We are KMFDM and don't you forget it. Now, everybody dance." Sascha Konietzko's militaristic delivery of the infectious chorus, "This is counter culture/ From the underground" had me pledging allegiance to the flag of KMFDM before the song was even over. KMFDM have been an electronics-based band since their birth, with guitars, sax and whatever thrown in for aural enhancement, but I just can't think of them as an electronic band. Their music has too much, well, soul for that kind of a label to seem appropriate. And there's something that's so "Fuck You," Anti-PC and, yet, spiritual about declaring yourself "The illegitimate song of God" while ripping apart every possible kind of corporate bullshit. These guys do things their way with no apologies and it's a breath of fresh air. No wonder they've been around 10 years and just keep getting better. Every tune in a well-mixed bag that included "A Drug Against War," "Stray Bullet," "Waste," "Unfit" and Tim Skold's "Chaos" was performed with 100 blood, sweat and soul. KMFDM's fans worship them for an honesty that lets them poke fun at themselves through music that absolutely takes no jive. The crowd at Roseland was ravenous for KMFDM and respected everything they stand for with such ardent fervor, even Ogre's presence on stage got an outrageously receptive welcome. When the conglomeration of musicians - Watts included - returned to whip the crowd into a rapturous frenzy with an encore of "Godlike," there was no denying this was the show of the year. If they had done "Juke Joint Jezebel" my head would have exploded right there. After the show I headed over to the post-concert bash held at Otis restaurant in Hells Kitchen. After steeling myself with a couple of drinks, I walked over to Raymond Watts and introduced myself as a journalist who'd given a lot of press to Sinsation. I told him how great his music is and how inspiring it was to see him perform. "Oh, it means a lot to me to hear you say that, really," he said in his Byronesque British accent that just made me want to slam him right there. "And I hate to be such a fan," I added, feeling sort of devil-may-care at the moment," But I just love you so much." Then he smiled at me and I walked out of the party and took a cab home. I didn't fall asleep that night for a long, long time. Gail's Dating Tips I had planned to give sage advice about Online Love this month, but Pig and KMFDM took up my entire word count. Anyway, I've been dating up a storm this past month, doing lots of research for the column, so I'm sure I'll have new tips for you in February (Just in time for Valentines Day!) (The Worley Gig regularly turns in The NY Hangover.) E-Mail Gail
Worley Previous turns of The Worley Gig: The Worley Gig #1-- Summer, The Rules The Worley Gig #2-- All Tomorrow's Parties The Worley Gig #3-- Weaselfest '97 The Worley Gig #4-- How I Spent Summer The Worley Gig #5-- Random Excerpts From My Ass-Kicking Life The Worley Gig #6-- Christmas Kicks Total Ass The Worley Gig #7-- She's About A Mover
|
     |
