| NUKE UP NOW! SADO-NATION THE NIGHTMARES 8FT TENDER IOTOLAS Sabalas, Mount Tabor, Portland Friday 21st May 2004 |
 |
 |
 |
|
|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Sabalas is rapidly becoming THE punk venue here in Portland and Pabst (Portland's Carling equivalant) is 2 bucks a pint, which pleases me no end. However it ain't all fun 'n' games, coz this venue ain't as intimate or as cheap as the FREE Twilight Rooms. But it's currently hosting the best punk rock bands that litter the streets of Portland and from further afield. Plus it does it without getting too corporate. It's an old Movie theatre and its high ceiling and fifties decor reflects that, once you look past the big steers skull mounted above the bar and the faded US punk memorabilia that hangs from its walls. But more importantly tonights billing gives me chance to savour one band who id been itching to see ever since id set foot in the Barbarians homeland. Sado-Nation are Portland born and bred, and are a band I've become very intimate with over these last six weeks. They're one band (forget Poison Idea) who first reached the outer echelons of the British punk scene via Punk Lives way back in '83. So it was good for me to put one of my remaining punk ghosts to rest. We arrive about 9.00 in the Sado mobile, and after some rare friendly parking advice by a passing cop (shock horror) I make myself useful by helping unload some gear. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy so immediately head for the bar leaving the bands to eye each other up. Menace's 'Live For Today' is blaring out from the PA which was a nice touch from Blighty, as I order the first drink of the night. It's ain't too long before the cavernous surroundings start filling up with the weird, the curious and downright fucking quirky. Talking of which, first band up on tonights bill are the suspiciously named 8FT TENDER. I thought with a name like that they weren't gonna be up my street, and I my suspicions were confirmed. The most amusing part of their set was when they got some geeky kid up to introduce em. He'd been twitching and jumping around all night long like an hyperactive Steve Albini. I spied him scrawling his little Intro speech on some paper by the bar, but he immediately lost it as he mounted the stage to say his peace, which I found highly entertaining. From here on in we were subjected to an hours worth of tight but very bland guitar rock with a cocky singer/guitarist who was after browney points in the arse licking department. Thank gawd for an uncrowded bar area, else I'd have been totally sent to sleep. My respect for em plummeted even further when they dedicated a song to the owner of the club. Now if that ain't a cardinal sin in any circle of etiquette it sure is in mine. Pity the owner in question was busy in the mens toilets at the time, installing a flurescent tube while 2 of his side kicks held the ladder (snigger). |
| By now I'd laid my hands on some FREE beer tickets (cheers Mish) which were duly dispatched behind the bar. I went backstage to see how the Yanks do things and spotted a sole figure who turned out to be THE NIGHTMARES drummer, dilligently practising his drumming technique on the leather seat. The rest of the Nightmares must've been busy scaring some other unfortunates, but nothing a few gallons of Pabst on ice didn't put right. With my camera in hand I cajouled some candid shots of Mish Bondage as she crawled the walls waiting for Sado's slot. So with a Whiskey in her hand and a glare in her eye she begrudgingly obliged my digital request. I could now hear the Nightmares making a noise out front and the lure of Pabst was becoming hard to fight off. However I spose id better go and check em out for myself, just to satisfy my curiosity and steer this review from nepotism. As I make my way out the door I wish someone had told me about the 2ft high step as you exit the backstage area, coz I hit the floor with a thud and nearly became the first casualty of the night. Luckily for my self esteem and health this slapstick comedy occurred out of sight of anyone. So I quickly got up and dusted myself down with just a sore shin for evidence. I'd read earlier in the Portland Mercury that the Nightmares who are fronted by Genny Genocide, whose apparently "the chemically damaged love child of Wendy 'O and Lemmy" ha! Well thats a tall order to meet. The Nightmares that greeted us on this warm May night didn't excactly live up to the Mercurys hype. But If your into The Distillers with ill fitting ballroom dresses, you may possibly get into em. But do we really |
| need another broody Brody? Because thats exactly what Miss Genocide seems destined to portray. The distilled Nightmares played a decent set of sleazy punk riffs with raspy rocky vocals, but didn't really get tonights crowd drunk into oblivion. Their take on drunk punk don't really convince us were seeing anything truly intoxicating, but they stood out for a short while as an adequate substitute before making their final exit like most Nightmares as the house lights came on. We were then left with a 15 minute wait before Sado-Nation. SADO-NATION make their entrance with lead singer Mish Bondage spanking some unsuspecting heckler with a "giant weener" (rubber dick). This implement is the bands mascot and was snatched outta their bassdrum while the band tuned up, much to the audiences amusement. Not suprisingly I didn't hear one more heckle all night. We were then greeted by Ms Bondage with an affectionate "Fuck you... ya losers... are ya drunk yet?" which was met by a small chorus of "Yeahhhhh" and one solitary 'No' which emanated from somewhere in my direction (snigger). The band then launched into a blitzing version of 'Messed Up, Mixed Up' which was the pace setter for the next 16 numbers. Sado-Nation are a band who don't send their audiences to sleep. They sure don't plead for acceptance either. They simply display a no messin, no creeping and a positively no compromising attitude. They create an entertaining vibe that makes every punk here tonight realise were seeing the real thing. Sado-Nation play heads down hardcore like it should be. A style that steers well clear of monotony and with enough tunes and intelligence to make em stick out from the rest of the pneumatic crowd. It was hard for me to enjoy the band fully, coz I was busy takin shots throughout the set, but I could see all around me the front rows were well into this band big time! Mr Corboy Sado vet from the very beginning and guitar slinger/guru chastized Mikey the drummer who was pummelling his kit to such a degree, it practically fell apart after each sadistic salvo. This is a band who like to power into each song with such a reckless pioneering spirit but manage to keep it all together. A trait most bands today merely dream of. They leave you with little time to catch yer breath and a few loose screws on the drum peddle ain't gonna lose their momentum. Dave Corboy has some fine witty repartee with his audience and bandmates alike, while Mish a living legend on the streets of the NW punk scene stalks the front rows rarely smiling and ready to erupt at any given minute. Her flame red hair, fishnet top and vinyl bondage pants merely underline the tension. The chugging powerchord monster of 'Cut Off The Cord' gets shoved in our faces as Corboy takes over lead vocals for the next couple of tracks finishing off |
| with a song older than a lot of the audience...called 'Johnny Paranoid'. However it's followed directly by a 38 second angst filled crarcrash of a number called 'On The Wall' which Mish spits out with gruesome glee. When the sinister tones of 'Fear Of Failure' ring out it we see Mish really starting to warm up. And you get a feeling she had way more venom in her veins that was threatening to be unleashed at any given time. Lets also not forget this was Eric's debut show on bass and he didn't dissapoint and looks set to be a promising addition to the Sado camp. The band leave their best track till the end of their set and its the impressive atomic blast of 'Nuke Up Now' which along with some clever lyrics and classic Corboy powerchords makes it a must hear tune. Without stopping they immediately careered straight into the 20 second one chord 'Violence', all about aggro! Leaving the stage as the crowd bayed for more, they return for one encore of another oldie 'On Whom they beat ' taken from the bands debut EP circa '81. Well after that display of dominance it was left to the IOTOLAS to try and blow Sado away or ignite some interest from an already evaporated crowd, but it wasn't gonna happen! They had a mismatched line-up of misfits and musos who looked like a bunch of hired session musicians. They did however have a funny little lead singer who looked like he was a cross between a greaser and Johnny Thunders, but sadly even he was on borrowed time and quickly became a distant murky image in my inebriated recollections. Before you know it's dawn on Saturday morning, the birds are singing and I'd survived my first Sado sighting...looking forward to more! Peter Don't Care |