Photo by Alexis Ratkevich
10:15PM- BANG! BANG! BANG! “Nam! Get your ass up!!!” Huh? Um, what the hell? I scrambled frantically trying to find my brain. It felt like it really fell off my head like a windswept hat. I’m naked, ugly and looking for the front door in the darkness. Alexis came in like a twister in the night – sight unseen but presence definitely felt. We got dolled up and rushed out to the Troubador across town.
Pit stop, the liquor mart on the corner of La Cienga and Santa Monica for a couple of Sparks and an ass pocket of Southern Comfort. We parked across the street from the Troubador, and the SoCo was done by the time we got to the front of the Troubador. We were kinda of ready for the onslaught? No one was outside which meant only one thing: The Dwarves had already taken the stage!
We rushed to rock out in the front. We traversed the sea of bros and their shorts and wallet chains dangling precariously before our high-heeled feet, ready to trip us at will. I chanted “BRO! BRO! BRO! BRO! BRO!” in a cynically fraternal gesture so they can make way for my cohort and me.
Walking into the middle of a Dwarves set was like walking right into a hurricane. There were bodies flying everywhere, fixtures, bottles, papers, clothing, and accessories being strewn about. It’s a cataclysmic disaster that you can’t help smiling at. Blag was kind enough to get me on the list at such short notice and he answered a few questions via email. I’ve heard the horror stories about him but my encounter was perfectly rated G. It goes to show you that reputations are mostly bullshit anyways.
So, the latest incarnation of the Dwarves features Blag the Ripper on vocals, Wreck Tom on drums, Clint Torres on bass, Fresh Prince of Darkness on guitar, and, of course, the irrepressible Hewhocannotbenamed playing guitar in his trademark G-string and Lucha mask. At the end of their rabid set, a bunch of bros bum rushed the stage; one doof climbed the rafters on the side of the stage and made a leap of faith into the pit of his bro brethren. Then as the lights came on, a bunch of bros literally jumped HWCBN and grabbed a handful of his black leather G-string and tried to yank it off. Everyone saw HWCBN’s wang and sweaty sac!I started yelling, “FAGGOTS!” Proof that bros are just a bunch of latent homosexuals. I asked Blag why people are such fags and he blamed the Bravo network.
The Dwarves will be touring for another six months, here and abroad, bringing the good people all the punk mayhem they can beg and plead for. Their latest album, entitled The Dwarves Must Die on Sympathy For The Record Industry, features another brow-raising cover featuring a Latino midget crucified with a bevy of naked beauties around him, photographed by noted rock photographer Michael Lavine. The album includes a who’s who of pop culture from Eric Valentine, Dexter Holland (Offspring) Black Josh Freese (Vandals, Perfect Circle), San Quinn (Get Low Playaz), Nash Kato (Urge Overkill!!!), Spike (Me First & the Gimmie Gimmies) and the immortal Gary Owens (Space Ghost). Blag’s got a book coming out entitled Nina (I wonder if it will fall along the lines of Nadja by Breton?) and it’s slated for release March of 2005. Man, it’s a been a long (over twenty years!) and hairy journey from the ’60s punk covers of “Suburban Nightmare,” the Dwarves still deliver all the raw goods you can ever ask for.
Blood, guts and pussy? Hell, yes!