30+ years into one of the most remarkable careers in the history of recorded music, Metallica is still offending more people than any other metal band. At this point, being one of the most popular bands in the world should have rendered them innocuous, but as their headlining spot at Glastonbury this weekend proved, they're still causing more uproars and infuriating more listeners than Watain or Burzum could ever dream of.
I love this t-shirt they sold at the show, honoring the elitists in Mogwai, The Guardian and even Judas Priest, who fumed at the idea of Metallica headlining a hippie-themed festival (front and back image courtesy of Blabbermouth).
Metallica also addressed a widely-circulated internet petition urging the festival to ditch the band over James Hetfield's choice to narrate a History series on bear hunting. While animal rights activists (who apparently cared more about associating themselves with a high profile event than actually doing anything for animals) got up in arms, Metallica filmed an intro video with Julien Temple (The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle, The Filth and the Fury) poking at the controversy. It's pretty silly, but it made me smile to see the band have fun in the face of adversity, even a small one like this.
And of course, the show looks and sounds incredible. What a band.
They killed Jesus. They killed babies. They brought Jesus back as Monster Robot Undead Jesus and killed him again. They killed Mitt Romney at the opening and slaughtered Barack Obama for the encore. All in your average Michael McDonald show.
No, of course, this was GWAR. Without having a single song that you remember, GWAR are approaching AC/DC's record for consistently delivering a great metal show. The basics are the same--escaped aliens from Antarctica dismembering celebrities between a no holds barred horror-comedy routine and a soundtrack that includes songs like "A Womb with a View." The dismemberments could have made Peter Jackson sick, and included every imaginable (and some previously unimaginable) orifice and bodily fluid. The fans, some in metal band t-shirts and others in plain whites intended to show off the carnage that landed on us, sopped it all up.
Few bands ever have done a better job of carving out a niche and perfecting it. Reinventing Alice Cooper's Halloween theatrics with death metal extremity seems like a given now that we have Lordi, but GWAR reminded us that they did it best. If KISS is too commercial and Buruzm is too self-serious, girl do I have the band for you.
Sans costumes, weapons and codpieces, frontman Oderus Urungus would still be a worthy comedian. His stabs at the Lord were as savage as Christopher Hitchens', and the swipe he took at rivals "Zob Romney and Manson Marilyn" (feuding on their co-headlining tour this week) sounded just like the one my high school English teacher made in the '90s. Still, the banter, like GWAR's music, mainly served to support the band's next round of killings. I think Adolf Hitler, who was shown about as much respect as Jesus Christ, was next.
For their encore, GWAR dedicated a metalized take on Kansas' "Carry On Wayward Son" to recently departed guitarist Flattus Maximus. Some sources will tell you that Flattus' real name was Cory Smoot and that he did of a heart attack, but Oderus informed us that his comrade had safely returned to outer space and been replaced by his brother Pustulus Maximus. It was somehow an appropriately mournful and joival tribute to Flattus, a testament to GWAR's professionalism that climaxed at the arrival of Techno Destructo to saw a few monsters' limbs off.
