The
Horrors, Goddamn Gentlemen
Satyricon
125 NW
6th Ave., 243-2380
10 pm Saturday,
Oct. 21
Cover
At the last minute,
NYC's Speedball Baby, which also has a new record out on
In the Red, had to withdraw from this tour due to financial
concerns.
The Horrors debuted
under the name Chapstick Vagina.
Cedar Rapids
is just lots of factory and lots of crank. Usually we just
go out in the country and make fires.
--Andy
Caffrey
Grain. Tractors. Noise-rock?
A Midwest distribution center for cereals and farm machinery
is hardly the kind of place one expects to find a super-primitive
rock-'n'-roll band hanging out. The kind of stripped-down,
messed-up, drink-all-night outfit that slams chaos vibes
through walls of jacked-up guitar scree, song after song
after song. You just don't look for it. Big cities in a
state of decay--that's where the really raw stuff comes
from.
But the Horrors, from Cedar Rapids, Iowa, prove the exception
to this time-proven expectation. One very extreme exception:
By the measure these three guys set with two guitars and
a set of drums, urban angst takes a back seat to agrarian
ennui every time.
Growing up in a small town on flat land has certainly been
a tremendous motivator for guitarists Andy Caffrey and Paul
Benjamin Cary and drummer T.J. McDunnaugh over the past
seven years. With very little practice (why bother?), the
Horrors have created a sound that falls comfortably in line
with the likes of Pussy Galore, the Gories and the Oblivians--bands
that give simple R&B song structures a very rough going
over. Only with these guys, the going over gets just a bit
rougher.
On their self-titled full-length, recently released on
the In the Red label, the Horrors have managed to cough
up a record of major sonic damage. Screaming vocals sound
like they're erupting out of cement. Frenzied guitars unleash
lacerating loads of high-end squall and gutter-bound rumblings.
Brief stretches of static announce further reductions in
fidelity...then more static...and then the sound pops back
to the appropriate subterranean levels, ready to haul off
in a hyper shuffle or lumbering stomp. With the Horrors,
the center simply cannot hold. Songs blow up, or they decompose.
And the whole unsightly mess wears a big fat grin. Ah, life
in a small town with nothing to do.
"Cedar Rapids is, like, where everyone in corporations
brings their family to hide out from the rest of the world,"
offers Caffrey, on an overwhelmingly surreal note. "Any
businessman who gets on any plane to go anywhere ends up
in Cedar Rapids. It's just lots of factory and lots of crank.
Usually we just go out in the country and make fires, hang
out with friends."
Cary spends most of his free time between pizza-delivery
shifts holed up at home with his guitar, saving money for
the band's tour and staying clear of the temptation for
criminal mischief.
"I've gotten in trouble enough times in this town doing
stupid shit. I guess we do less stupid shit now. I don't
know, just go to bars and try and find girls. There ain't
no girls in this town, fuckin', into anything cool, really."
So it is no surprise that these bored, able-bodied young
men decided, back in their high school days, to do something
cool. Cool in their minds, anyway.
"We were 17 or something, I think," says Cary. "We were
just at this show watching these bands play, and we thought
they all sucked. So I just told Andy, 'Fuck, let's start
a band.' We got these heavy-metal guitars from this guy,
and they were tuned all weird, and we just started playing
a song. It just started because we were sick of all the
other bullshit."
The virtually nonexistent rock-club circuit in Iowa has
forced the Horrors to develop in that most fetid of band
incubators, the basement-party free-for-all. Not that they
ever minded, really. In fact, it is clear that the band
almost prefers the mania-inducing powers of claustrophobic
quarters and mold.
"This one party we played at in the middle of Iowa, Fart
Fest, it was bad," says Caffrey. "There was like all this
beer and all this water on the floor. Both of our amps couldn't
ground at all. There were 20 people in the basement and
us, all getting shocked the whole time we played. It was
nuts. I mean, when that's going through ya...."
With the record and a very well-received show at the trash-punk
festival Las Vegas Grind this summer under their belts,
the Horrors now set off on a West Coast tour with an appearance
this Saturday at the Satyricon. Many who witnessed the Vegas
outrages cite the Horrors as one of the best performances
out of 50-some bands that played that weekend. Cary remarks
that the show was fun, but not typical.
"It's usually a lot more chaotic. That was the first time
we played three of those songs. I just got them together
right there. Nothing really went wrong that show. Usually
something breaks."
Cary feels compelled to offer potential Portland attendees
the following advice: "When you go to the show, dance. It
ain't about sittin' there and trying to analyze what type
of music this is and thinkin' about what this guy is doing.
Just shut your brain off and dance once."
Got it.
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