The following was written today by our newest powerviolence guest contributor,
Rabble Arouser (răb'əl-erou'za)... And by the looks of things, the broad's got a mouth on her, take a gander and see:
The first time I heard the Misfits I was ten years old. I was babysitting for a couple of drunks when I found the “Beware” LP and put it on. The one song that really stood out to me was “Last Caress.” That was the most vile and offensive shit I had ever heard at that point in my life and I LOVED every goddamned second of it. What I was hearing were Danzig’s melodic vocals reaching to the heavens to say fuck you to Jesus. It was the first song to tap that evil spot inside me. It was a magical experience that any young gal would be lucky to have. Rape? Killing babies? Priceless. I continued for years remembering that tune and singing it aloud in public places every chance I got because, well yeah, I’m just like that, until a friend revealed to me that the song I was singing was actually by the Misfits and that’s when the love affair began.
That was until last Saturday. I surveyed the crowd, eyes selectively glazing over the “Punk’s Not Dead” t-shirts purchased at the Hot Topic and the faux hawks mass produced at Great Clips and I began to wonder; what does being a punk even mean anymore? Well, if you're talking about the crowd at the recent Misfits show than your answer is being twelve, having a big allowance and spending it all on a black tee shirt with the logo of a band that sold out a long time ago.
So up come the SHITfits, oops I meant to say MISfits (…no, I didn’t). Now if the image that enters your mind is of an old man’s knees quivering while his violently exploding diarrhea blasts out of his asshole-- that was intentional. The curtains (yes curtains! You can get gigs at fancy venues when you sell out) were drawn to reveal a set filled with the predicted ghosts and ghouls you would expect from the band and no, I don’t mean the shadowy figures of a punk tradition long since laid to rest. I’m talking like your run of the mill Halloween aisle at Walgreen’s Pharmacy. Sad, yet exactly what I would expect to see at their “Anniverscary” tour. I spent the first half of their set trying my best not to get pissed about the fact that pussy boy Jerry Only has been ruining their name since he took over and made everything about the Misfits Disney-pop-fantastic. Which translates to me having to associate with children, on a night which should have been filled with loads of unholy fun.
They blazed through their set like a bad cover band with Only’s shitty vocals scraping the feeling out of all the original songs. The best part of the show, and please note my sarcasm, was between songs when Only decided to give the crowd his idea of a motivational speech. It was hilarious! Like when he was thanking his family and fans for their support by saying “Sometimes you just gotta get behind someone and push.” That made me smile because I was envisioning pushing his crusty ass off the stage. He kept up with these pathetic inspirational speeches throughout the night, telling us how much he loves his kids and shit, which don’t get me wrong I think is great for a Hallmark card. I found it particularly ironic when they played “Attitude” since clearly, Only’s Misfits have about as much attitude as my grandmother, after her stroke. Jerry Only is a pussy riding on his retarded signature “devilock,” which looks like the “Flock of Seagulls” bitch ran outta fucking hairspray and Danzig’s success.
I could probably have gotten over a fair amount of the cheese, (living in Wisconsin has given me a better tolerance for such things) but when Only changed the words to purify my favorite childhood tune the shit hit the fan. “I KISSED your baby today????” I shit you not, that’s what he said. Ok, so now he’s a politician? A baby kisser? I wanted to puke. So I waited, hoping I misheard him, but no, I was correct. Not only does Jerry Only “kiss your baby” in the newly revised Last Caress but he “tapped your mother.” Uh, excuse me ma’am, but may I please sneak a peak between your legs? I sincerely doubt that this guy has balls at all. I know Jerry, I know, you don’t want to offend your audience of middle schoolers, but please don’t cheapen the experience for the true fans.
Sorry to disappoint fiends, but you should just put your money and your horror punk-induced erections back into you pants. Unless of course you're a pedophile whose idea of a good time is to party with a bunch of twelve years olds, save yourself the trip.
Best quote of the night:
“yeah man, the Misfits fucking rocked....30 years ago!”
