Gwar invades Earth with crushing music
Band insists stage shows, blood-and-guts style are worthy of
artistic praise
By John Sabatini
Daily Bruin Contributor
For millions of years, harmony existed on earth as Gwar remained
frozen in their icy Antarctica tomb. Although banished to the
frozen continent by the Master of All Reality for their galactic
misdeeds, it was only a matter of time before Gwar re-emerged to
destroy humanity.
When shady record executive Sleazy P. Martini crashed at the
gates of Gwar’s crypt, Earth’s fate was sealed. After Gwar thawed
and had been exposed to modern American television culture, the
group was prepared to wreak rock’n’roll havoc on humankind. With
its 1988 debut album, "Hell-o," Gwar initiated a music phenomenon
highlighting death, destruction and decadence.
Eight years later, Gwar has returned with "Ragnarok," the sixth
installment of its unique blood-and-guts musical aggression. But
whereas earlier tales proudly recounted Gwar’s exploits at the
expense of the human race, the new album actually provides a
service, warning helpless beings of an impending cosmic
disaster.
"’Ragnarok’ is coming to crush the planet," says drummer Brad
Roberts (a.k.a. Jizmak Da Gusha). "It’s a huge meteor that’s about
the size of Cleveland, and it’s going to cruise right through the
planet and destroy it entirely."
Actually, the whole Ragnarok story is only the latest chapter in
Gwar’s long history of unusual antics. It all started in the late
1980s when a motley group of art students from Virginia
Commonwealth University first donned weird movie costumes as part
of their live show.
Since then, Gwar has become renowned around the world for its
gigantic monster costumes, humongous phallic stage props,
filth-spewing live shows and outrageous sci-fi story lines.
Another key characteristic which distinguishes Gwar from any
other rock band is its incorporation of a sizable supporting cast
for its live performances. Currently, every member of the 17-person
Gwar crew appears in at least one on-stage role during the band’s
performance.
"The average band has 16, 17, up to 24 people in their
entourage. Probably, most of these people are being paid to sit
around and tell the rock stars how great they are all day," says
lead singer Dave Brockie (a.k.a. Oderus Urungus). "The thing that’s
different with Gwar is that the 16 or 17 people that are out there
are all working."
Among the longest living Gwar characters are Techno Destructo,
the Sexicutioner and Gwar’s obedient slaves. But as the band’s lone
female character, Slymenstra has long been the fan favorite.
Of course, it doesn’t hurt Slymenstra’s appeal among Gwar fans
that the scantily-clad sex goddess regularly appears on stage
whipping her slaves into submission. Despite the raw sexuality of
her character, however, Danyell Stampe, who plays Slymenstra,
argues that her role goes beyond mere sex appeal.
"Without her, (Gwar) would be nothing," she says. "Who wants to
look at a bunch of fat old men in rubber costumes? Have you ever
noticed when I come out on stage where the attention of the
audience is?"
While several Gwar characters, such as Slymenstra, date back to
the earliest days of the band, new antagonists and protagonists are
constantly emerging. On "Ragnarok," the newest Gwar enemy is
Cardinal Syn, the host of a religious game show. Each new character
allows Gwar to create original scenes for its next tour.
"I like stories that are complicated and full of strong and
colorful characters, so cool conflict can develop between them,"
says Brockie. "When you get good themes working, good dialogue and
funny situations start to suggest themselves. That’s why we have
Cardinal Syn coming out, and aliens stealing my sperm and creating
an Oderus baby."
Such bizarre scenarios are meant to be amusing, say members of
Gwar, but with rampant images of sex, filth and violence, the
band’s material always threatens to cross the line separating the
risque from the offensive.
A definitive element of Gwar’s concerts involves continuously
firing streams of fake blood and other fluids into the audience.
And songs, such as "Have You Seen Me?" and "Rock N Roll Never Felt
So Good," feature lyrics touting such troubling behavior as child
abuse and necrophilia.
Making matters even more dicey, Gwar regularly incorporates
religious characters, including Cardinal Syn and even the Pope,
into its foul routines. But Gwar remains unafraid to write odious
songs and enact scenes on stage ranging from sodomy to child
birth.
"We take it as far as anything you can take, as far as any
country can take, and we keep putting it out," says Chuck Varga
(a.k.a. the Sexicutioner), a member of the Gwar entourage. "It just
matters who can take it. Warner Bros. couldn’t take it. William
Morris couldn’t take it. The U.K. couldn’t take it. North Carolina
can’t take it. Who’s left?"
Two years ago, Gwar tried their best to add Seattle to the list.
Just three months after Kurt Cobain’s shocking suicide, Gwar
arrived in the rock mega-star’s home town for a concert. During the
show, the band rolled out a mannequin of Cobain and "blew his head
off." Fortunately, the primary audience response was laughter.
"I was a little worried about that one," Brockie admits. "But
Gwar, by definition, can never go too far. We’re pioneers of bad
taste. We have to be the cutting edge of wrong. To me, going too
far would be us selling our ideas to Hanna-Barbera, and all of a
sudden Gwar no longer has penises."
Stampe does not feel that Gwar has ever gone too far, either. In
fact, identifying literary themes and mythological references in
Gwar’s material, she suggests that the band’s music and routines
are worthy of being considered art.
"The best art is always questioned when it’s happening," she
says. "Then it’s looked upon later as the greatest thing that ever
happened. For instance, Van Gogh could never get into the Academie.
He never showed his work when he was alive. Now he’s a god.
"I don’t think the full reality of how great Gwar is will hit
people until later, because we’re so advanced and ahead of our
time. Other bands have worn costumes, like Kiss, but nobody –
nobody – had as much intellect as we do, as much depth in the
material as we do."
Brockie agrees that Gwar’s material qualifies as art, despite
the fact that disagreement might come from several directions. At
the same time some Gwar fans might see negative elitist
connotations in the term, admirers of traditional art might insist
that Gwar is too vulgar to be art.
"That’s the mind-set of the individual and whatever they think
art means," says Brockie. "I defy anyone to tell me what the
definition of the word is. All I know is that art is as ambiguous a
word as God is. I know Gwar is not God, but it’s probably art."
Whether Gwar’s material is accepted as art or rejected as
unacceptable filth, Brockie hopes that at least one important
message can be derived from the band’s outlandish behavior.
"If our music is saying anything to people, I hope it says to
them that you have the power to do anything you want with your
life," Brockie says. "We have seen fit to pretend we are rubber
monsters from outer space and create a neo-primal tribal experience
that the rats can get out and run around in. Gwar is a shining
beacon of irregularity in an all too regular world. It’s about
freedom."
But Stampe and others see additional, equally powerful messages
in Gwar’s material. In particular, Stampe points to the
misogynistic tendencies of the male-dominated band. Instead of
committing a disservice against women, however, Stampe feels she is
helping matters by exposing society’s excesses.
"(Misogyny) totally exists in society and in reality and in
fantasy, so why shouldn’t it be talked about?" she asks. "Why
shouldn’t it be shown in its fullest glory? Men are rapists; let’s
expose it. Some are, anyway. Why shouldn’t I be involved in
something that just tells the truth?"
While differences of opinion appear to exist within Gwar with
respect to certain particular issues, Stampe and Brockie both feel
frustrated with society’s denial of its larger problems.
"The world is an insane place," Brockie says. "That’s okay, but
what I don’t like is that they keep telling us that everything’s
OK. Even a fool could tell that it’s not OK.
"Gwar would not have been around as long as it has unless there
were serious ideas behind it – unless we really felt that what we
were doing as artists was somehow helping. The way we hope to help
is by getting people just to open their minds in general."
Although Gwar sees most of the world remaining in its irritating
state of ignorance, the Scumdogs of the Universe are not ready to
give up. In fact, the band is poised to take its campaign of
tactical tastelessness to whatever levels are possible and
available.
"We’re ready. We have the ideas. We have the technology," says
Varga. "It’s just a matter of whether there are enough abnormal
people out there who can appreciate us. Or people that we haven’t
reached who need to be converted.
"Are we ever going to be mass appeal? Do we ever want to be mass
appeal? Is there a conspiracy to keep us down? I don’t know. But we
are ready to take over. We can blow ourselves up to 200 feet tall
if we have to."
… with rampant images of sex, filth and violence, the band’s
material always threatens to cross the line separating the risque
from the offensive.
Gwar’s Oderus Urungus
Clockwise from left: Balsac the Jaws of Death, The Sexecutioner,
Jizmak Da Gushna, Musel, Beefcake the Mighty and Oderus
Urungus.
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