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Gonzo Report: Gentrification is scarier than Bandhaunt
But Queen Bee’s show still spooks North Park
Robert Writhe of The Writhers, sans accordion for more writhing room
“I wonder why my phone isn’t recognizing me,” says All Monster Revue guitarist Richard “Richie” Bonnin with counterfeit astonishment. The reason is pretty obvious: the facial recognition software can’t penetrate his stage makeup, which resembles that of Otis from The Devil’s Rejects. Tonight, Queen Bee’s in North Park is hosting Bandhaunt, with sets by the Hemogoblins, The Writhers, All Monster Revue, BOO! and Black’s Beach. All but BOO!, which drove in from Mexicali, are local bands. (All Monster Revue started above Scolari’s Office over 20 years ago and recently reformed.)
Many costumed (I think) individuals fill both the sidewalks outside the club and its interior, which features a haunted house that Monsters guitarist Marty Sandman helped create. But the surrounding neighborhood seems even more haunted: the boarded-up North Park Diner could be an urban stand-in for a gothic castle. Move down the sidewalk toward University Avenue and go left, and there are remnants of the old neighborhood: mom and pop taco shops and the like. Go right and step into “progress” and its chain eateries. Either way, a Target department store looms in the near distance, draining the color from the area like a big box vampire. It’s less scary inside the club, even in the short fright maze. Michael Myers and murderous clergy have nothing on gentrification and soaring rents. My only real fear is the $38 parking fee I paid so close to payday.
Glamour demon Vivvi Force is the emcee for tonight, introducing raffles, costume contests, and bands, even though she sometimes has to remove her fangs in order to make her announcements understood. The offbeat Hemogoblins kick off the show with a touch of ghoulish retro energy, followed by The Writhers, who do a lot of writhing! Singer Robert Writhe breaks out an accordion; his passion for the instrument borders on obsession. In fact, the first time I met him was years ago in the lobby at San Diego Comic Fest; there, he was decked out in pink and black. I smart-assedely told him to play some Misfits, and, without missing a beat, he broke into “Skulls,” prompting a spontaneous sing along. (The song will make an appearance tonight, but not during The Writhers set, which does, however, feature an audience member being dubbed “Pit Dunce” and a Groovie Goolies cartoon-like dance whenever someone in the crowd yells “one, two, three, four.”)
In the bar area, I get a diet soda and watch patrons approach a Tarot card reader bathed in purple LED light. The table is set up in a semi-isolated place, but not cocooned from traffic; even so, no one crowds the setup, as if an invisible bubble exists between those getting readings and those drinking.
The energy of The Writhers seems a tough act to follow, but there’s a cooperative appreciation and support among the performers instead of a competitive edge. All Monster Revue takes a bit of time to set up, and then destroys any barrier between audience and artist: singer Sarah Bonnin belts out tunes from the pit, looking like the love child of The Rocky Horror Picture Show and Blade Runner. Part of the energy comes from the presence of the other bands, who are right up front or in the pit, singing along and dancing. The frenzy seems to feed itself when BOO! takes the stage. I ask them later if they listen to Misfits or AFI more often, and they laugh, telling me it’s equal. Their rendition of “Skulls” and “Halloween” by the Misfits sends the dance floor into a near-frenzy, with Force joining onstage and members of the other bands singing into the microphone that is extended out over the audience.
Most of the attendees disperse after that, and Black’s Beach plays to a sparser crowd. Which is a shame, because their psychotic soaked-surf vibe melds perfectly with the sound of the other bands. Post-show, they tell me they wrote one song about a couple who identified themselves as Satanists and set up drum circles and tents where people could go fuck, do drugs, and whatever else they wanted on the clothing optional beach. (They tell me this while wearing ski masks, which they refuse to remove for photographs, and it lends and air of slasher menace to the conversation.)
The evening ends with me hanging out with BOO!, and guitarist Ing Popeth Lopez shoots me a video of Mexican metal band Alvath, turning me on to a new-to-me band. The members of BOO! are better with English than I am with Spanish, but though words may escape us, our mentions of musicians and our accompanying physical gesticulations make it clear that the love of music is a universal language.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Gonzo Report: Gentrification is scarier than Bandhaunt
But Queen Bee’s show still spooks North Park
Gonzo Report: Gentrification is scarier than Bandhaunt
But Queen Bee’s show still spooks North Park
Robert Writhe of The Writhers, sans accordion for more writhing room
“I wonder why my phone isn’t recognizing me,” says All Monster Revue guitarist Richard “Richie” Bonnin with counterfeit astonishment. The reason is pretty obvious: the facial recognition software can’t penetrate his stage makeup, which resembles that of Otis from The Devil’s Rejects. Tonight, Queen Bee’s in North Park is hosting Bandhaunt, with sets by the Hemogoblins, The Writhers, All Monster Revue, BOO! and Black’s Beach. All but BOO!, which drove in from Mexicali, are local bands. (All Monster Revue started above Scolari’s Office over 20 years ago and recently reformed.)
Many costumed (I think) individuals fill both the sidewalks outside the club and its interior, which features a haunted house that Monsters guitarist Marty Sandman helped create. But the surrounding neighborhood seems even more haunted: the boarded-up North Park Diner could be an urban stand-in for a gothic castle. Move down the sidewalk toward University Avenue and go left, and there are remnants of the old neighborhood: mom and pop taco shops and the like. Go right and step into “progress” and its chain eateries. Either way, a Target department store looms in the near distance, draining the color from the area like a big box vampire. It’s less scary inside the club, even in the short fright maze. Michael Myers and murderous clergy have nothing on gentrification and soaring rents. My only real fear is the $38 parking fee I paid so close to payday.
Glamour demon Vivvi Force is the emcee for tonight, introducing raffles, costume contests, and bands, even though she sometimes has to remove her fangs in order to make her announcements understood. The offbeat Hemogoblins kick off the show with a touch of ghoulish retro energy, followed by The Writhers, who do a lot of writhing! Singer Robert Writhe breaks out an accordion; his passion for the instrument borders on obsession. In fact, the first time I met him was years ago in the lobby at San Diego Comic Fest; there, he was decked out in pink and black. I smart-assedely told him to play some Misfits, and, without missing a beat, he broke into “Skulls,” prompting a spontaneous sing along. (The song will make an appearance tonight, but not during The Writhers set, which does, however, feature an audience member being dubbed “Pit Dunce” and a Groovie Goolies cartoon-like dance whenever someone in the crowd yells “one, two, three, four.”)
In the bar area, I get a diet soda and watch patrons approach a Tarot card reader bathed in purple LED light. The table is set up in a semi-isolated place, but not cocooned from traffic; even so, no one crowds the setup, as if an invisible bubble exists between those getting readings and those drinking.
The energy of The Writhers seems a tough act to follow, but there’s a cooperative appreciation and support among the performers instead of a competitive edge. All Monster Revue takes a bit of time to set up, and then destroys any barrier between audience and artist: singer Sarah Bonnin belts out tunes from the pit, looking like the love child of The Rocky Horror Picture Show and Blade Runner. Part of the energy comes from the presence of the other bands, who are right up front or in the pit, singing along and dancing. The frenzy seems to feed itself when BOO! takes the stage. I ask them later if they listen to Misfits or AFI more often, and they laugh, telling me it’s equal. Their rendition of “Skulls” and “Halloween” by the Misfits sends the dance floor into a near-frenzy, with Force joining onstage and members of the other bands singing into the microphone that is extended out over the audience.
Most of the attendees disperse after that, and Black’s Beach plays to a sparser crowd. Which is a shame, because their psychotic soaked-surf vibe melds perfectly with the sound of the other bands. Post-show, they tell me they wrote one song about a couple who identified themselves as Satanists and set up drum circles and tents where people could go fuck, do drugs, and whatever else they wanted on the clothing optional beach. (They tell me this while wearing ski masks, which they refuse to remove for photographs, and it lends and air of slasher menace to the conversation.)
The evening ends with me hanging out with BOO!, and guitarist Ing Popeth Lopez shoots me a video of Mexican metal band Alvath, turning me on to a new-to-me band. The members of BOO! are better with English than I am with Spanish, but though words may escape us, our mentions of musicians and our accompanying physical gesticulations make it clear that the love of music is a universal language.
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