Murder City Devils, The Catheters, Hell of All Saints & Union Of The Dead

The hype built steadily during the weeks leading up to last Thursday's Murder City Devils show at the Blue Room, and for good reason. The crowd of people who attended the show the last time The Devils rolled through town spread the word like wildfire, or more appropriately, like the fire that engulfed drummer Coady Willis' kit during the last song of the performance: These guys (and girl) know how to rock.

Further evidence of this innate ability to kick out the jams is the series of photographs that sits in The Synthesis' photo file, depicting guitarist Dann Gallucci charging and taking out former Syn shooter Pete Geniella, who continued to fire off a barrage of shots as he and the rock-zealous Gallucci hit the floor and then helped each other up. It is a set of pictures that speaks volumes about the live show of The Murder City Devils, and enough of a kick in the ass to make sure that I hit the show this time around.

It promised to be epic. Two local bands — Union Of The Dead and Hell of All Saints, whose penchants for tearing the roof off rock venues (at least tearing the caps off beer bottles) is becoming the stuff of legend in these parts — and two road acts: The Catheters, a five piece rock outfit made up of young, aspiring rock stars; and The Devils, whose aforementioned ability to rock so succinctly was the headlining draw.

As usual, I arrived late, and caught only a few minutes of UOD's short time on stage. It was the group's relatively standard blazing set of rockabilly and old-school punk-tinged rock 'n' roll, and as usual, these three guys — Fred, Gerardo and Cliff — showed the quickly gathering audience that they're not just fucking around.

Hell of All Saints played to a fully packed house. In fact, by the time these punk rock metal heads hit the small stage, the place had reached capacity and The Blue Room's hired thug had cut people off at the showroom's outer door. Crunching, grinding riffage and hectic rhythms typify the music from Hell Of All Saints, and through a short-but-sweet set of songs, the boys from Hell had the room's temperature jacked up to a burning degree.

With lots of black-dyed hair worn in the touring bed-head fashion topped the majority of The Catheters' members, young kids (some of them still in high school), who have taken up the torch of balls-out rock 'n' roll and are running with it as fast as they can. These five guys, all crammed on to the Blue Room's small rock stage, were a sight to behold, all rocking well beyond their scant years, jumping, shouting and whooping it up as if it were their last show. It was, actually, the last show of this tour, and despite the fact that they all looked very tired, they put out 100 percent, which was greatly appreciated by the lucky ones inside the venue.

The Catheters' set was longer than those of the previous bands, but still not all that long. By the end of it, however, the crowd was more than ready for a break in the action and a breath of fresh air and chance to pick up some coveted Murder City merchandise.

When the Devils hit the stage, The Blue Room's all-purpose rock room, the wood room, was packed to the rafters, and the band played it up nicely. As the fans crowded around both sides of the stage, The Devils rocked a short set — the flavor of the evening — of old and new numbers, stuff off their first, self-titled LP, songs from Empty Bottles, Broken Hearts and material from the forthcoming In Name And In Blood, to be released in June on Sub-Pop Records.

The Devils' frontman, Spencer Moody, has stage presence. The way he grasps the mic with both hands and rocks back and forth, it's almost like he's building up a well of explosive energy, a blast he lets loose at the right musical cues — hard changes, punctuated choruses and other breaks in The Devils' powerful sound. The rest of the band knows how to rock it, too. Guitarists Dann Gallucci and Nate Manny both hold the gutter star pose like pros, though Gallucci is definitely the more animated of the two, playing to the crowd and effortlessly squeezing the rock. Lesley Hardy, the Devils' ivory-tickler, provides the music with slightly dramatic overtones, Farfisa licks that add a haunting edge to the nitro-powered jams, which are anchored by the rhythms provided by bass player Derek Fudesco and drummer Coady Willis. Together, the band is a cohesive unit, and a study in rock 'n' roll culture — a truly engaging group whose music is a big fat kick in the ass.

The set was even more moving in the center of the pit where all the action was. Tightly packed up close to the band, the crowd ebbed and flowed, surged and exploded into frenzy with the music, and aside from a couple of meatheads and the previously referenced, surly hired thug, it was one of the best turnouts I'd seen at the independent theater's rock 'n' roll side show in… well, ever.

– Max Sidman

– Photos by D.C. Ramirez

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