By Chris Haberman
> On Friday, June 14, Headliners had it all: Bad Wizard, The Melvins, and it all started an hour and twenty minutes later than originally promised. This allowed ample time to survey the crowd, which grew considerably until the place was packed. The fans seemed at ease; people drinking, smoking cigarettes, and either enjoying each other’s company or politely ignoring one another. This is the best part of witnessing live music, trying to gauge the people with whom you will soon be in close company. This interesting realization, coupled with the fact that The Melvins are arguably the world’s most unpredictable musicians, heightened the expectations for the evening’s events.
No one could offer any insight as to what should be expected of Bad Wizard, the opening act. Not even King Buzzo (Buzz Osborne), the lead singer and guitarist for The Melvins, could provide a hint. “Uh, you’ll see,” was his reply when asked about this mysterious opening act. With two guitars buzzing, a constant bass line, road-burning drum patterns, and a lead singer who soon evolved into a wild animal, Bad Wizard was full-throttle rock that would make any CBGB’s regular proud. The opening act had a carefree atmosphere that condoned sex, drugs, and rock and roll- just as long there was beer; which could be found everywhere. They produced hard, fast, and fun rock complete with sexual innuendoes- everything you wish a keg party would turn into, just as long as it wasn’t in your house.
After a blistering twenty-five minutes from Bad Wizard, The Melvins took the stage. They wore long black cloaks with slits at the bottom for legroom and large red crosses stitched on the front. As the feedback from Kevin Rutimas’s bass stack filled the room, King Buzzo began to sway and move as though performing a type of bizarre mating dance. Realization slowly came to all newcomers that these men were actually aware and in control of the unearthly sound that they were generating. Yes, they actually compose this noise.
Soon, the band crept out of the eerie and noisy entrance and into the songs that the fans were familiar with, like “Anaconda,” “Queen,” and “Revlove,” as well as some selections from “Eggnog and the Bullhead” and their new album, “Hostile Ambient Takeover.” King Buzzo’s little hops on stage were enough to convince anyone that he very well may be one of the long lost children of Gene Simmons or Paul Stanley. His maniacal stare and execution of the raw breakneck-rock-thick-muddy-metal-sludge the Melvins perform left everyone with the understanding that they would never see anything like this again. Kevin Rutimas’ bass sounded like a rusty engine pulling itself up onto a building and jumping off. He played his bass as if it was an acoustic guitar, at times holding chords which produced a sound reminiscent of a short, fat, and angry dinosaur.
The fans were rocked into a frenzy, falling and spilling beer all over each other. Those who took the time to break away from the pit’s bare-chested chaos found onstage a textured study of a band that is responsible for some of the world’s most outrageous, hilarious, frightening, and audacious music. Dave Grohl and Kurt Cobain of Nirvana were once quoted regarding The Melvins: “They’re the future of music… and the present and the past.”
