Murder City Devils, Botch & American Steel

Once upon a time in a land not to far away there reigned a small army of barbarians known as the Whiskey Mob. They were a notorious and dangerous gang of hellions known for pillaging small villages, bars and parties for their booze, women and whatever else they pleased. A cry for help was sent out across the land for anyone with the power to destroy these wretched individuals known as the Whiskey Mob. The call was answered during the darkest days of Rocktober, near the peak of the Whiskey Mob's most violent reign of terror of the entire year. The would be heroes were a group of traveling warriors for hire, Bands of drifters of sort, and they challenged the Whiskey Mob to do battle in the great Brick Arena of Chico, CA.
Bells rang, horns blew and bills were posted as mortals from all around piled into the arena to watch the battles take place. Inside, the warriors dug deep into the trenches and tested their weapons of choice while the arena floor filled with Whiskey Mob disciples ready to fend off the first wave of attacks. While deep below the arena the overlords chugged whiskey and awaited the final confrontation.
There was a small rumble and the first battle had begun. A group of poor souls by the name American Steel came out and attempted to drive off the disciples with a barrage of emotionally driven rock. However, their efforts proved worthless, as all those in attendance remained frozen. (To all those who really care it reminded me of when Hot Water Music opened for Agnostic Front, they were good but the crowd only wanted to see the headliner.)
The Whiskey Mob disciples sent American Steel running and the second wave of attacks got underway in no time. A band of mercenaries by the name Botch brought a fast and furious assault to the scene causing those in attendance to scatter about as those on the arena floor began to thrash about violently. As the Whiskey Mob drank below, the level of intensity upstairs was rising exponentially. Botch was preparing the crowd for what was to be the ultimate battle. (Botch's stage presence wasn't as good as their album We Are The Romans would indicate, but the screaming was loud and the music was too, so check out some of their stuff, okay?). After 40 minutes worth of blistering scream-core, the moment of truth had befallen upon the Whiskey Mob.
As Botch left defeated, word was sent down to the deep below that the leaders were needed up above as the Murder City Devils were preparing to do battle. The Whiskey Mob wasn't afraid though, rumor had it the Murder City Devils were without their secret weapon-keyboardist Leslie, so there would be no distractions, and the once-tough-as-nails roadie known only as Gabe had cleaned up his image and looked like nothing more than a silly little skate punk. The Mob entered the arena confident.
The Devils wasted no time, and with a new arsenal of ammunition - frontman Spencer, who warned those doing battle "You better outlive your MOTHER!"(from "Bear Away" off Thelema) - it was on. No experiments - just the guaranteed hits from all four M.C.D. releases were played: "Boom Swagger Boom," "Broken Glass," "Dancing Shoes," "18 Wheels," "Johnny Thunders," "Press Gang," "Idle Hands," "Bear Away," "Midnight Service at the Mutter Museum," etc.. Arms flailed, heads knocked, elbows were thrown, human bodies were hurled around like dust in a tornado, and just when it looked as the Whiskey Mob had the upper hand it happened.
The organs played as every hand in the arena went up in the air. Was this it? Were these the last moments of existence for the Whiskey Mob? Hundreds of fists pumped into the air in unison, a flash of bright light, the entire crowd screamed "Rum to Whiskey!" there was a cloud of smoke and the Whiskey Mob had disappeared never to be seen again.
- Thug E. Fresh
- Photos by Alyssa Starkey

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