Review: Impaler Brutality

Last night I went to see Twin Cities shock rock legends Impaler at Big Vs, a long, narrow and surprisingly well-lit drinking establishment in St. Paul. Prior to the evil, I witnessed a group of chicks lip-synching Tina Turner tunes in huge afro wigs and a band called 25 Cent Tacos playing a song with a chanting chorus of “Penis! Vagina! Fucking! Yeah!”

After that came Faggot, a local gay shock rock band. With their nearly naked, pale bodies covered with fake blood, they ran through a set that mostly annoyed me. It was fun to watch an audience member in an absolutley perfect Batman costume rocking out while Faggot’s long-dreadlocked dancer jumped on stage and simulated sex acts with the singer, whose scrotum overflowed from the ribbons of black material threaded through his crotch.

After covering the stage with severed body parts, heads on pig poles and various carnage-coated weapons, Impaler ripped apart their first tune. Led by a singer who looks like the ultimate public-access horror movie host, clad in a bloody suit and tie, thrashing out with his long blonde hair, they demonstrated why, after being on the scene for twenty-plus years, they are still worth seeing. They embody everything that is good and right in metal: You know, evil, chaos, bloodshed and no long annoying guitar solos. As they rocked, they had a lunatic in a bizarre medic outfit jumping around them on stage, spewing blood into the crowd and smashing things.

Midway through the set, a muscle-bound meat-head shoved his way into the mismatched crowd of punks, metal heads, drunken weirdos, guys dressed like King Diamond and the half-naked dudes from Faggot. He was drinking out of a full pitcher of beer and growling macho shit at his scrawny friend. As the band played, he randomly shoved people in the crowd, trying to start some sort of jock mosh. He got into a pushing match with the scantily clad guitar player of Faggot. The singer of Impaler jumped off stage, got in the guy’s face and told him to cut the shit so everyone could have a good time.

The rock continued and the guy seemed to simmer down… for about two songs. Then one of the Faggot dancers and the aforementioned guitarist fell to the ground, where they got tangled up in each other and rolled around on the floor in the middle of the crowd in a bizarrely suggested manner. This craziness only seemed to bother Mr. Meat head, who started yelling about how gay the shit was and about how the long-haired Faggot guitar player was really a dude. His tone demonstrated that he was really upset about it, as if he was hoping it wasn’t actually a dude. Personally, I thought the guitarist’s mutton chops were a dead giveaway of his gender.

When the rolling around stopped, Impaler’s bloody medic threw a piece of gore at the meat head’s face. Meat head approached the stage, growling and flexing his muscles cartoonishly. The words exchanged couldn’t be heard over the crazed thrasing, but they culminated in the medic pointing at his jaw and egging the turkey to strike. Meat-head took the bait, punching the medic in the jaw.

The medic jumped off the stage, slamming his fists into the meat head. Impaler rocked on as everything went nuts. The crowd turned into a pool of flying fists. At least fifteen people were throwing punches. I dodged a set of knuckles looking for a place to call home and smiled as a tangle of testosterone-fueled mayhem landed at my feet. For a second, I thought about joining in. It looked like fun. At the same time, it was already pretty much the whole crowd against the meat head and his wiry friend. Plus, I was having a good time just watching it. The mess of flailing limbs ebbed and flowed from one side of the small concert area to the other, as if moving to the psychotic metal that still wailed from the speakers.

I laughed as one of the Faggot members miraculously waded into the mayhem and removed the meat head’s shoes, throwing them into the corner of the room. The brawl went on and on, thrashing on the ground, then standing, then back on the ground, more fists whizzing by me. I started to wonder if the blood spots on my shirt were from the band or from the battle.

Eventually, the turkeys were dragged out to the street. Impaler’s singer made a climactic speech about how the good metal fans have to stick together and then slammed through their concluding song, appropriately entitled “Shock Rock.”

(Impaler played at Big V’s in St. Paul, Minnesota on 10/28/06)