I got somethin� to say. I saw the Misfits today and it doesn�t matter much to me. Well, yeah it does, actually.
Last year O.C. Doyle joined Glenn Danzig on a few East Coast dates, but this year they�re doing a reunion set in on each stop. OK, it wasn�t quite a reunion (Danzig, despite pleas from his fans, still hasn�t reconciled with his Misfits co-founder, Jerry Only). But as a long-time fan, hearing Misfits songs with Danzig on vocals was monumental. And, based on the crowd�s reaction at the Gibson Amphitheatre, I know I am not alone in this.
As soon as Danzig began his little speech to introduce the Misfits bit of his set, the tension built and built and built (most of us are here, of course, for the Misfits material, not the solo stuff we patiently head-banged through). The anticipation was running high for the promised thirty minutes of utter �all hell breaks loose/ I want your skull/ annihilate the whole fucking race/ too much horror business.� Yeah, we�re ready; the pit�s already brewing. It�s the last night of the tour and it�s Halloween weekend to boot. What could be more fitting than rocking out to Misfits songs with two core members of the band?
His bodybuilder physique sheathed in tight black pants, Misfits sweatbands at his elbows, full-on white makeup and a devilock hanging well below his chin, Doyle stalks across the stage, Frankenstein-stepping in time with the drums. And all hell breaks loose. The pit is a maelstrom of bodies, hands and arms aloft throughout the seats, and it seems like a million voices are singing along with Danzig at all the right spots. We all know the words; it�s like an epiphany with the antichrist.
Danzig informs us that some friends have come out to play, and bikini-clad stiletto-wearing Amazon women come out parading placards that announce each song in hand-lettered Misfits script. At one point, Danzig announces to the bikini-wearing beauty that her sign is �upside down, baby.� He gets a big laugh out of the crowd before the band blazes into �We are 138.� It�s a quick � and exhausting � half hour, spent as if we�d had dirty sex. And I'm sure that was the point. �Mommy, can I go out and kill tonight?� Well, the Misfits killed us, in that oh so good way.
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