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From: Jim Hofmann <hofmann@AMSAA.ARPA>
Date: Mon, 16 Dec 85 10:22:30 EST

Subject:  washing me down, washing me down ...
or  SAMHAIN (formerly THE MISFITS) - FRIDAY, DEC 6, 1985.

Imagine yourself in a dark, damp, cave.  Thousands of eyes are peering at
you, looking you over, weighing your flesh, waiting for the right time to
attack.  Suddenly, a blitzkrieg of sound, loud guitars, tribal drums, things
that go bump in the night basso --- a light turns on the leader of the gang,
Glenn Danzig - his shiny black hair perpetually over his eyes.  He is standing
over the mohawked horde, directing them in the finer points of eating flesh.
The music is getting louder and louder and your skin is starting to crawl and
it keeps on crawling right off your body. Your innards seep down seeking 
gravity perhaps the only true law in effect.  The mohawked hordes fall to
the floor slobbering up your entrails ... Danzig looks at you and invites you
to partake in your own initiation; he beckons with his hands; he urges you
with his voice, a voice unintelligible yet still not without meaning.  The music
plays on - forever a benchmark in your mind of what music can and should be.
A peek into the terror of SAMHAIN and you will never be the same.  The question
that will always stick in your mind like a shattering lump of death is how one 
group can sound so racuous, so raw, so intense and still be united as one.  Like
their major influence, Plan 9 - they explore the dark side of unreality, the 
part we are taught from day one never to seek but when it rips up inside us, the
rest of society gobbles in fascination, sells you on supermarket shelves, 
convicts you on network TV, then throws you away to rot in some desanitzed hell.
Unlike Plan 9, they sport a razor edge sharpness and clarity; they know what 
they want to say and they know how to say it ... none of this slow, spooky 
wailing for the terror to grapple you; SAMHAIN harnesses the terror, reins it 
but never dares to train it or break it ... they merely exhibit it in its nose
snorting, hoove clattering glory to the mohawked hordes and urine truly,
society's future flesh eaters.

Their recorded work, though, is alot different than seeing them live - so 
don't make judgements based on just listening to vinyl.  They have a new LP
due out in three weeks, they wouldn't tell me the label as if talking
about it would destroy their chances.  If you didn't know already, they have
picked up a new bass player and drummer (Loudon May, formerly of REPTILE HOUSE)
but they sound like they've been playing with the band for a long time.  There
were no new right religous groups picketing as promised, but don't be suprised
if you go to see them and get acosted by the self-righteous.  Danzig requests
you ignore them but get word to him so he can go out and "talk" to them (i.e.
shove his fist down their throat) as they seem want to avoid confronting him
directly ... could be even better than the opening act though the SPASTIC
RATS did quite a good job last Friday (Dec 6). They are really developing their
own sound and their 7" is available through Systematic now. As usual, you can go
get it or die.  They excelled on "I Stand Alone" and a new one, "Ghosttown", and
I would recommend them to anyone into rok musik.

After the SAMHAIN show I went to see a group called the X-MEN.  By no means
patronize these fusion turds unless you wanna hang out with designer hippies,
you know the type that were born 15 years too late.  The white part of the
band are pretty much asswipes too.  Overheard conversation:  White Guitarist
to Friend: "What are you on tonight?".  Friend: "Oh, just some pot".  WG:"That
guy over there has some coke." Friend:  "Awww, he's a fag."  WG: "Oh. Hey, I'm
jetting out to LA tonight to do some studio work" - at this point I broke in
to tell him he must be suffering from pre-jet lag since he played like beached
porpoise.  They roundly ignored me so I struck up a conversation with the 
Portugese barmaid.  She had just gotten of a "crew ship" and was good friend
with Rod Stewart:"He get up at 11:00 each day and run 6 miles until he drop then
he go to bar and you know drink until he drop."  Gee, sounds like a fun guy.
Can I meet him?