Finally after waiting through a couple of abbreviated introductory US tours that oddly forgot all about San Francisco, I finally saw one of my favorite new bands of the year The Horrors play a set at Popscene and for all practical purposes the glamorous five-piece British goth/rock sensation were everything great Rock and Roll theater should be. Since their first gig in September of 2005 they’ve played all over the world, from LA to Rome to Tokyo, incited a huge riot at a gig in New York causing $10,000 worth of damage after signing to Island Def Jam, graced the cover of NME with only two singles released, made a great video with famous actress Samantha Morton which was promptly banned from MTV for excessive strobes and gruesomeness, have been tipped by Jarvis Cocker as the future of British rock and have been referred to as the most exciting British band since the Sex Pistols. That’s quite a lot of hype for five youngsters barely over 20 years old to stir up most definitely, and just have a look at them! Have you seen a more brilliantly glamorous dose of a look on a band lately? I really appreciate that extra bit of magical effort they put in their appearance. Each and every one of them pale, thin, dapper, totally shaggable and sporting great hair and lots of eyeliner and attitude. Call me superficial for being so enthusiastic about what a band looks like but it’s important. One need only to consider the New York Dolls, The Sex Pistols, The Ramones and other great fashion plate bands through the history of rock to see that a cultivated look can be a powerful thing and a valid part of the whole entity. Don’t hate them because they’re beautiful, they look fucking amazing. Their debut album Strange House is proof plenty that they got the chops musically as well.
Popscene co-presented this show with another club called Shutter, which as near as I could gather is a club with a definite retro/goth bent. This made for a darkly fashionable crowd, big hair, pale faces, heavy eyeliner, and an enjoyable mix of early Cure, Siouxsee, Joy Division, 45 Grave, The Gun Club (extra points for that!) and much more. I quite enjoyed the music but as the place began to fill up to capacity with all eyes onstage and tension and anticipation mounting and a bumbling and annoying sound check routine going on, I began to resent being made to wait so long for the band of the hour. My concert companion Michael and I still couldn’t stop smiling with excitement. We had waited a long time for this night, listening to their debut disc end to end knowing we’d soon witness this live. Whats a few minutes more? The crowd was surprisingly friendly for such a ghoulish looking bunch. This was like the second-coming of Goth Jesus or something.
The band filed on stage and began assaulting their instruments creating a wall of noise that was fucking loud. The keyboardist Rhys ‘Spider’ Webb seemed to be making the biggest racket and the most physically flamboyant and animated presence with his tight page-boy cut and dapper glampire apparel. Then the very tall and commanding vocalist Farris Rotter (great name!)bounded onstage and with a cock of his head toward the microphone effortlessly let loose with his powerful gravel-y voice. I couldn’t tell you exactly which song they were doing as things were so fucking loud and distorted, probably louder than any other show I’ve seen there, but it really didn’t matter much at that point, the band was merely bashing their white hot sceptor of chaos, danger and hype upon the heads of the crowd. At last! The crowd went just a bit nuts I’d say.
As the set progressed the sound started to improve a bit, the songs became more recognizable and the crowd more united in motion. I became mesmerized by Farris and his performance; he’s extremely captivating and fearless, all over the stage and a few times off, batting at some ugly hanging piñatas with his microphone stand which could have had tragic results really but didn’t. He made mention of the mirrorball in the center of the room catching his eye like he was displeased with it maybe. He then pulled the emptied party doll-like piñata head over his own and sang a muffled line or two. With their first single “Sheena is a Parasite,” the crowd became a bit unruly and two 300 pound mountains-that-walk security guys planted themselves near the front of the stage forcing the crowd back. They stayed there for a song or two before Farris said, “I noticed that the two largest members of the audience are standing with their backs towards the stage.” For a brief second I thought perhaps the room might explode in violent retaliation or something but before I knew it Farris walked onto the top of the crowd, over security mountain grabbing a hold of pipes and bunched wires on the ceiling that I was sure would come down in a shower of sparks and electrocution. He continued singing and navigating his way on top of the crowd standing upright and hanging precariously until he reached the aforementioned mirror ball and pulled it down. He turned and made it back to the stage more laterally this time, broke the mirror ball in half and gave it to the crowd. He defied both gravity and authority with this daring execution of supernatural rock and roll acrobatics. In a show biz sense you can tell he is an old soul. This was like Vaudevillian or Grande Guignol. This was rock and roll at a fever pitch—a defining moment in Horror-time. The band left the stage and a few minutes later did something I thought they never did—an encore! It would have been fine if they hadn’t but I stuck around.