Preaching to the Perverted

Pigface, Meg Lee Chin, Chris Connelly, The Damage Manual, Gravity Kills, gODHEAD, and VooDou live at the Tremont Music Hall.

By Hannah McLamb | December 17, 2001 Loud volume may damage your hearing: Pigface & Co. offer protection against their aural assault on the Preaching to the Perverted Tour. Buy stuff Visit the Official Preaching to the Perverted Web site Web site Visit Pigface's Label Invisible Records Learn more about the bands on the tour: Pigface Gravity Kills gODHEAD Chris Connelly Meg Lee Chin You mean, my mother wouldn't like it? I look fondly (admittedly sometimes blushing) on certain times in my life - driving my beat up 81' Z-28 Camaro blasting Alien Sex Fiend the night of my 16th birthday, having my tongue pierced knowing my mother would despise the infernal thing, having delicious sex in a public place - ya know, the kind of stuff that makes you feel, if only for one unctuating moment, completely alive. Baptism by fire kind of stuff. Guilty pleasures. The yummy moments that make even the most sainted person feel like a dirty little sinner. A few Friday nights past in Charlotte, I got to add one more sinful event to my list - I went to see Pigface and company's only stint in North Carolina at the Tremont Music Hall. The best concerts take place under bizarre circumstances, usually with some sort of road trip involved in getting to the venue. You consume lots of caffeine on the drive to the show, listening to every song recorded by the artist you're going to see to get yourself in the appropriate mind frame. You have an accomplice with you. Both of you sing, at the top of your lungs, songs you hope to hear the band play later that evening. People -- in particular crotchety old people, driving in lanes close to you -- stare at you, and you (you twisted thing) relish it. This was the premise for my pilgrimage to the Preaching to the Perverted tour the day after Thanksgiving. We [Choler Art Director Adam Dewey accompanied me] made the drive from Fayetteville to Charlotteville and checked into the hotel with an hour to spare before the show. It just so happens, there was also a beauty pageant in town that very same weekend -- Little Miss Diamond Magnolia of the Southern Piedmont, or something of that nature. All of the pint-sized contestants were lodging at our hotel. There were bouffant-coifed little girls encircled by layers of crinoline as far as the human eye can see. As I walked to the car on the way to the show, one Little Miss Diamond hopeful smiled brightly at me. In a thick southern accent that was sweet as pecan pie she said, "Look Mommy, that lady is wearin' a dog collar!" Her Kathy Lee-look-alike mom shunned her daughter away from me with a haughty don't-you-dare-smile-back-at-my-innocent-little-baby look in her eye. I politely returned the little girl's grin and hoped that this would just be the start of a perfectly perverted evening. We're all as mad as hatters here… As soon as we arrived at the Tremont, we were promptly admitted in to interview [Pigface / Invisible Records scion] Martin Atkins prior to the show. This would be my first time seeing Pigface, let alone getting to photograph and interview Martin Atkins. I was nervous as hell. What would I say? Would Martin mind if I hugged him and acted like a giggly schoolgirl? You have to understand my admiration for Mr. Atkins began years ago with PIL and grew with his work in Killing Joke. My admiration of Pigface collaborator Chris Connelly? With Revolting Cocks, naturally. Later, I adored both of them in Murder Inc., Pigface, and The Damage Manual. So in getting to meet both men turned this whole little excursion to the Tremont into an industrial baby's dream come true. Luke, Martin's incredibly charming personal assistant, who was setting up the merchandise table when we arrived, greeted us. Talk about stuff - they had everything an Invisible fan could wish for. There were also ample earplugs for sale for those with weak constitutions. We drooled over they vinyl and CD's sadly realizing we only had a stinking $20 on us and that cash would decidedly go to cigarettes and Newcastles. Luke explained that Martin would be with us shortly, that he was "on the drums." On the drums - cool. We milled around, taking in the Invisible eye candy and the gutter-glitter décor of the Tremont (it's kinda like a flea market coupled with a slaughterhouse). As we made our way into the concert hall, I could hear Meg Lee Chin doing her sound check for the track "Heavy Scene" (a song from her debut solo album, Piece and Love). Martin was indeed on the drums - we could see a flash of his blonde dread locks as he pounded away. The acoustics were incredibly loud due to the Tremont's cement block walls. During Meg Lee's check, I met Curse Mackey (formerly of Evil Mothers and currently in the wickedly fun Grim Faeries) who greeted me with a smile. We chatted for a bit and he said that the tour had gone great so far. After wrapping up sound check, Martin spoke with use for about thirty minuets. He was warm, open, funny, and disarmed all of the anxiousness that accompanied my teenage idol worship. Check out tons of pictures from the Preaching to the Perverted Tour in Choler's concert gallery. One of most kick-ass features of an industrial show is that they truly draw a most motley crew of fans and onlookers. There were Marilyn Mansonites on hand to see godhead [who recorded their debut for Manson's new imprint], family members of the opening local band VooDou, die-hard Gravity Kills fans, and your obligatory drunken frat kids who are just there to show their asses. However, there were no real freaks there - I decided earlier that they were all back at the hotel doing the pageant thing. The next group of people present was the Pigface fans, most of whom were veteran Pigface concert goers. I myself was a virgin to the whole Pigface live experience. However, for me to write that this was just a Pigface concert would be to write a fallacy. The show was so much more. It was four hours of four kick-ass bands. It was a writhing, snarling, pulsating testimony to Invisible records and to the beliefs of Martin Atkins as an artist. I've put a spell on you… We all know that Martin feels very strongly about recognizing and supporting emerging industrial bands. His desire to help them in their growth provided the impetus of his Notes From the Real Underground brainchild - a project whereby Invisible distributes compliations of tracks by unsigned bands, giving them a leg up on their way to (potential) stardom. I knew that VooDou was on the Notes From the Real Underground I compilation, but I had never heard any of the band's material. I didn't know what to expect from them. They turned out to be a kick-ass opener to the night's concert. Although their sound-check was ultra quick and this was only their second gig, VooDou's stage presence was phenomenal. Within the span of a song, they had the whole audience in their hands. How did they sound? Imagine if Switchblade Symphony and Ministry produced an offspring with infectious, lush vocals. Barbed-wire candy. There's only one kind of HEAD… …gODHEAD, of course. After a Speedy Gonzales style set adjustment, DC's gODHEAD took to the stage. If you haven't heard of gODHEAD yet - you will. gODHEAD has been around since the 90's doing their sinisterly unique thing on the East Coast. Marilyn Manson was so charmed by gODHEAD that he signed them as the flagship band of his new label. Before the show, I bumped into some of the members of the group backstage (almost by accident -- sans makeup, I would never of guessed that they were the band). They promised me that their set would unquestionably be something different and they did not disappoint. Their performance was somber, foreboding, even -- occasionally -- theatrical. Vocalist Jason Miller is absolutely a crowd-pleasing entertainer, particularly when he dons his black gas mask with glowing red eyes. With his baldhead and Crow-style accouterments, the frontman / fiend looked like a modern-day Nosferatu. His sinfully delicious voice (decorates your palette like a rich piece of devil's food cake) enthralled the audience. Okay, I admit it - I'm guilty… Now here comes the real shocker set of the evening. When I first heard of the Preaching to the Perverted Tour and learned that Gravity Kills was on the bill, I was baffled. Gravity Kills + Pigface? It just didn't add up to me. Gravity Kill's performance departed far from what I expected. I never was much of a GK fan, I confess. Okay, I did get that hook from "Guilty" stuck in my head a couple of times after the movie Seven came out. Still, I was puzzled. My bewilderment shifted to curiosity after I read somewhere that Martin Atkins was producing their new album, aptly titled Superstarved; this would be bloody interesting. Gravity Kills rocked the Tremont that night. They just didn't play the Tremont stage; they kicked the mother lovin' crap out of the Tremont stage. Their sound was as hard as nails. Their new tracks proved amazing and were well received by the crowd. Gravity Kills is a dynamite stage band and singer Jeff Scheel is the supreme high-octane crowd motivator. Funny enough, when they played their old songs, they even sounded harder and the crowd just loved it. (Imagine a profusion of Pigface fans chanting, "Hey, hey, hey, I'm guilty." Oh yeah, it was a great night.) As a result, I will be purchasing their new CD. Fuck it up, Pigface… Read more from Choler on these Invisible Records Artists: Chris Connelly Damage Manual Martin Atkins After Gravity Kills finished their astonishing set, it was time for the Pigface to have at it. As stated earlier, this was my first time seeing Pigface and I really didn't know what to expect. Everyone in the audience intimated to me that if it was anything like previous shows, it would undeniably "kick ass." Chris Connelly opened the set (which was an extremely nice surprise, although no one recognized Chris at first with his baldhead). He played guitar and sang, solitary against a bright white backdrop. His acoustic number melted into full Pigface regalia as his cohorts were slowly exposed to the screaming crowd who began to cheer, "Fuck it up Pigface! Fuck it up!" On stage were Curse Mackey, Charles Levi, Meg Lee Chin, Seibold, Chris Haskett, Martin Atkins, and bikini-clad drummer Christy. Along with Pigface's modern classics, Martin/Connelly projects The Damage Manual and Murder Inc. were featured during the ultra-long set. The songs from both Murder Inc. and Damage Manual, including the brilliant "Sunset Gun" and somber "Murder Inc.", were my favorites played that night. Connelly (who has also played in The Fini Tribe, The Revolting Cocks, and currently does solo projects backed by the Bells) was unbelievable - his vocals, enigmatic. His voice has the power to draw his listener into the lyrics, often penned by him, as no other vocalist can. His voice is honest, intense, and leaves your mind in an emotional spin. Watching him sing was the highlight of the evening for me. Meg Lee Chin's solo offerings, particularly Heavy Scene from her CD Piece and Love, were equally as cool to hear. All of the impressive vocals were underscored by the dizzying guitar work of Bile's industrial terrorist Krztoff, an Easter bunny mask-clad Chris Haskett (formerly of the Rollins Band), and my favorite bassist, the eloquent Charles Levi (formerly of Thrill Kill Kult). Pigface's stalwart tour manager, Luke, preps the souveneir stand. Did I mention the show was interactive? Not only was the crowd repeatedly flipped off by Hate Dept.'s Seibold, (and he spit water on us -- repeatedly -- an old trick of his), but Meg Lee Chin ventured down into the pit to hang out and sing with audience members. Martin also invited audience members onstage to sing the band's trademark track "Suck" (arguably the song that launched Trent Reznor's career) with the band. This brings me to another reason why Pigface rules: all members of Pigface were very approachable and stuck around after the show to meet fans, shake hands, answer questions, and sign autographs. The approachability of Pigface members (and Gravity Kills, too - they were super receptive to their fans and converts as well) proved that they are not only the most innovative industrial collective, but also the coolest. It was as if everyone was one big, happy, albeit dysfunctional, family. Audience members who were not Pigface fans when the show began were converted Pigface addicts by the time the Tremont took out the trash and locked the doors. After saying goodbye to Luke, who I spent a lot of time chatting with in-between sets, I snapped my last picture and headed out to my car. As I slowly walked through the Carolina mud, I mused about meeting Martin, being sweetly astonished by kick-asseness of Gravity Kills. The entire drive back to the hotel, the sound of Curse Mackey wailing the lyrics of Auto Hag echoed in my ringing ears. My God, the night kicked ass. If you have not been able to catch one of the Preaching to the Perverted shows yet, check the tour schedule and make plans to go. Get a baby sitter, sell plasma to buy a ticket, charter a bus, take your grandpa - do what ever you have to in order to catch up with Martin and his crew live. Go ahead, confess your sins to the denizens of the Preaching to the Perverted tour. You know your mother wouldn't like it.