GWAR isn’t so much a band as it is a multi-methodology performance art collective bent toward the scatological expression and exposition of certain quasi-mythological but sometimes preposterous rock and roll tendencies. These proclivities seem to have found favor with a certain segment of the rocanrol listening audience—one assumes that adolescent males with a fondness for metal, mayhem and heavily costumed antics are among their most dedicated fans.
And, certainly, as the genre has evolved and even bifurcated, there has been many a rock or hip-hop outfit who’s dealt in dense depravity, psyched-out science fiction or the glorification of good riffs and consequent great globs of brutally born bodily fluids being spewed with abandon into venues all over the USA.
Though outfits like Insane Clown Posse and Mac Sabbath do their thing in costume, tongue planted firmly in cheek, GWAR presents as the real thing. In person, while in character, they say nasty things and shred at the same time. They want to be believed as transdimensional monsters from another world who relish violence and decay as much as they dig hammering out a good, headbanging jam.
And so they are. At innumerable gigs, the band flays away at their chosen instruments while displaying an otherworldly command of metal. It’s all there, from roaring drums and bestial bass to flaming guitars and growling vocalizations. While the albums have vaguely aliens-
But of course there are still battles to be won and shows to be played. Not to mention the fact that the world’s maggot and meat grinder requires constant supplication.
Or something like that.
Weekly Alibi had a very brief opportunity to chat with Flattus Maximus’ replacement, a pus-coverered devourer of souls named—what else—Pustulus Maximus.
This is what he shouted—over the din as August March raced toward him with a microphone disguised as a huge Tibetan dorje—about the band’s upcoming gig in Burque.
Weekly Alibi: Hey Pustulus!
Pustulus Maximus: What up, Dog?
Why should Burqueños come out for GWAR?
They’ll have the time of their life if they come to a GWAR show. It’ll change their life forever, they’ll never be the same. They may leave pregnant.
Hopefully that threat won’t frighten away our more enlightened readers.
Ah, they’ll be alright, especially after they hear me play the guitar!