Housecore Horror Live Shot: Saturday Part 3

Oderus Urungus has fallen. Dave Brockie, the heart of Gwar since its inception, left a free-bleeding gash in the thrash contingent’s center with his death from a heroin overdose in March. Saturday night at Emo’s, the shuffled lineup embarked on an irreverent quest to bring their fearless leader back from beyond.

“People say Gwar is milking it. Milk this, motherfuckers.”

Michael Bishop, who pillaged as bassist Beefcake the Mighty in the Nineties, has taken over lead vocals as the terrifying Blothar, a beast with great antlers protruding from his shoulders and a gut full of rage erupting from his bearded lips. Blood spurts from the distended udders at his waist. The crowd huddled together drank it gladly, answering the call to “Hail, Genocide!”

Blothar bogarts the mic (Photo by Gary Miller)

The Virginia rockers continue from the foundation built by Brockie 30 years ago, with its brutal dueling guitars, fantastical sci-fi storylines, and commitment to the shocking with a brutally irreverent set.

“I must admit I am having fun being the lead singer of Gwar,” growled Blothar. “For years I watched you assholes snort cocaine and fuck fat chicks. Now it’s my turn!”

Another addition to the cast, Vulvatron has also entered the fray. Adding a violent vocal edge to “Tormentor,” she made good on her promise to make us “bow before the boob spew.” Squeezing her chest, the assassin sprayed the front row with blood.

Bow before Vulvatron’s boobs! (Photo by Gary Miller)

Fists flew when the ensemble suggested the best way to lure Oderus back from the dead would be with his favorite things. Blothar and Vulvatron waved a giant syringe and an oversize bulb helpfully labeled, “Crack.” Fingers in the crowd chased drummer Brad Roberts’ (Jizmak Da Gusha) relentless rhythm through “Let Us Slay.”

Longtime nemesis Mr. Perfect savaged the finale, his huge Hulk arms rigid like a Rock ‘Em, Sock ‘Em Robot. His foe lying in a bloody pulp on stage, Blothar declared, “Gwar is not dead! Oderus!”

Ending on an appropriate note of insanity, the collective churned out a ghoulish rendition of the Pet Shop Boys’ electro-pop anthem, “West End Girls.” Dave Brockie’s brood hasn’t lost its sense of humor.