Moxie’s Café, Chico, CA

With the not-so-strongly intended Strong Intention out of the mix due to a cancellation, Redding, California hardcore junkies Till Death were forced to bring the fury to Moxie’s for an evening. Never having seen this band — only references to them back when they were called the even more cutesy-wootsy Till Death Do Us Part — I had assumed they were a whiny, heartbroken emo band. I now confidently conclude they are not. Opening with a few bars from the Rocky theme, Till Death proceeded to kick ass without regard or regret. The lead singer paced back and forth like an enraged animal between fits of impassioned screaming and thrashing, making it exceedingly difficult to photograph him. Meanwhile the two guitarists traded off lead and rhythm, sometimes even playing dual leads that made me wet my pants, and generally wielded their axes with skill that was made even more crazy by the fact that they are apparently identical clones of each other. The guitars and bass combined with on-the-mark drumming to create a turbine effect that, if it had been properly harnessed, could probably have powered a small country for a few hours. Throwing out some recognizable cover riffs and wicked breakdowns, and even letting an audience member have the mic for one song, Till Death more or less mopped the floor with the Moxie’s crowd.
Following such a beautiful display of musical carnage would be difficult for any band — except of course Gruk, who, on a bad day, could be compared to a monkey pumped with a year’s worth of speed, tossed into a blender, poured into a bucket and splashed all over a female-fronted The Casualties. The four-piece seemed to be on a mission to clean the previous band’s clock, as the first song was ripped out in under 25 seconds, leaving the crowd feeling sucker-punched. After Gruk had everyone’s attention, they settled briefly into what might be their new, pseudo-happy pop sound, which inspired skanking by a handful of the more sarcastic audience members. This must have pissed off lead singer Rachel Loveless, because the rest of the set went back to the band’s usual, fervent rage. The heavy, semi-distorted bass gave the sound a rude, blunt quality, while the guitarist’s shiny, new DeArmand six-string angrily filled in the foreground. Though Loveless seemed slightly distracted by Botchii frontman Tom Skowronski and his video camera, as well as the asshole flashing the digital camera in her face (me), she had no problem producing the vocal hurricane she is known for, while the guitarist and bassist pulled their usual antics for the cameras. It was a short but chaotic set, graced by the usual local-band-member heckling and some onstage jumping, both successful and unsuccessful. I bought a glow-in-the-dark Gruk shirt to support the war.
– words and photos by Peter Kimmich

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