Live Review: GWAR

Roseland Theater, Portland
Friday, November 26th, 2010

The GWAR Girlfriend Test: So you are seeing a girl you really like. How do you know if she is the one? The GWAR Girlfriend Test is here to help. It's simple really, take your girlfriend to a GWAR show, get her as close to the stage as possible, and see if you are still dating the next day. If you are, it's time to start thinking about a promise ring (because nothing says, "I think I might dig you," like a promise ring). If she has a great time, you have found the one. Nothing screams high maintenence more than a chick too cool to get covered in fake blood during a sci-fi horror film inspired show.

For the ladies, the GWAR boyfriend test doesn't work as well. First, if you like getting close at a GWAR show, you are probably already taken. If not, and your man doesn't enjoy himself, you are dating the biggest pile of frouche ever created (yes, I made up the word frouche, the frat/douche combo).

As for the actual show, there were many GWARees getting impaled by swords resulting in streams of blood soaking the crowd. Apparently, they don't care too much for Sarah Palin, as a look alike pressed to an inclined board was wheeled to the front of the stage and murdered. She didn't die right away though, they instead cut her open to the point that she was able to remove her insides for all to see with guts spewing everywhere, all with a big political smile on her face. Vote for me!

Even though GWAR's music isn't as technical as other metal bands, they are more than just a stage show. There were several shout alongs and fist pumping classics. GWAR fans know their GWAR. The figurative offspring of a petri dish and a supercomputer, Oderus Urungus has one of the most unique voices, which is almost more respectable when he addresses the crowd between songs (and just as loud as his death metal screams). He literally has a cartoon character's voice, and would be a perfect villain in a Disney movie.

When the show ended, I had no clue what I looked like leaving the venue, but I knew the average folk wouldn't understand why I was covered in green slime. When I got home and finally saw myself in the mirror, I could do nothing but laugh thinking about the crowds of well dressed chads and donnas downtown I walked through on my way home. I literally looked like a green zombie, hair soaked in slime. Sexy, no?

The shirt I was wearing, stained green, is now hanging in my closet, never to be washed again. I learned this ten years ago from my friends who are die-hard GWAR fans. Childish, I know, but there are some memories too valuable to wash away.