Opening for GWAR is a flex. Opening for GWAR at home in Richmond is a flex and a kick flip. Cancer Christ came in hot at the bottom of the bill. They blew the doors open with thrash punk that felt like 1986 at your favorite skate spot, boombox overheating, 8 D batteries struggling. Anthony Mehlhaff, front man and imperfect Jesus, took the stage dressed in sacred vestments and reminded us Satan is a Bitch and that only Cancer Christ can save you. A newly-baptized audience member had the honor of spewing the cumming of the Lord onto the faithful’s faces towards the end of the set. We saw the miracle of modern day hardcore saints and we shall not forget them.
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Negative Approach. Motherfucking Negative Approach! These are the O’est of the G’s, birthed in ’81 alongside the genre itself. Their relentless sonic attack seared. In my opinion, only Minor Threat, Bad Brains, and Black Flag share their table. The very fact they are in support of GWAR on this tour says everything you need to know about the legacy of our hometown heroes. I cannot overstate what tingles there be when confronted with such pure musical violence. It’s awe inspiring when a band still looks and sounds like they mean every scream.
We were treated to the absolute show that is X Cops. This band started as an offshoot of GWAR, formerly the domain of local prophet Dave Brockie. With Ryan Parrish (Darkest Hour/Iron Reagan) on drums in prison gear and half the GWAR dudes in various pig outfits – I mean, officer uniforms – you had to be thinking All Cops Are Beautiful, or something like that. The theatricality of the outfit could not hide the precision in their craft and the bangers they belted. These were likely the best songs on the menu that night. They made their biting satire fun and offensive, just the way basic training would have it. Like a police academy, it was too short and only begat violence in the swirling pit it presided over. Like Police Academy, it was funny as shit too. Except they didn’t need Steve Gutenberg to carry them.
The lengthy pause between X Cops and GWAR felt like edging with no lube. It resulted, however, in the grand climax of the mighty GWAR, native sons of somewhere otherworldly via Antarctica. They’ve called Richmond home since 1984, cycling through members at whim since. Lest you think Oderus’ passing would weaken the group, think again. Blothar rips. Jizmak the Gusha lit up his drumkit better than any of the literal dozen GWAR shows I’ve witnessed since 1992. Balzac is, dare I say, sexy? I mean, during his solo, I think I got a chub. Pustulus Maximus was simply god-tier on guitar. I sometimes forget that they are not simply Kaiju-esque cosplay gimmick fodder, they fucking rock, haaaaard.
The show was more than a mouthful and ejaculated profusely all over the eagerly waiting, white t-shirt wearing crowd. They screamed for more when Joe Biden was beheaded (this tour’s enemy) and yelled for Putin’s flying effluvia as it rained down from on high.
Epic is a word used too frivolously. This show was Everything.
GWAR At THE NATIONAL 2023 BY DYLAN AKERS
