freek show. by jim freek may 19, 2000

Those kooky Eastsiders proved once and for all that they really are a weird little snack when they all get together -- and anybody who made it downtown to the Lab on Friday night for "The SubGenus Post-Apocalyptic Devival Tour 2000" knows exactly what we're talking about here. Following a painfully pretentious "poetry" reading (which was accompanied by a dancing golden boy who appeared to have accidentally seared his nipples during his Polynesian fire-dance routine), a rickety scaffold rig was turned into a makeshift Hollywood Squares set, providing what was possibly the evening's low point: The East Hollywood Squares. It was while ignoring this garishly nonentertaining game show and gazing at possible art acquisitions that we were approached by a plethora of raving lunatics, some attempting desperately to prove how "arty" and "eccentric" they were by babbling acid-derived drivel. Still others ranted feverishly that they should be mentioned in Freek Show because they have access to strippers, cocaine, and other rock 'n' roll taboos.
Topping off this night of family fun was a performance by the severely damaged Woodpussy, a band so horrible and dangerous that they don't even play regular club gigs anymore, only "special events" like this one. While pounding out a mess of brain-damaged punk slop (think of the Plastic Ono Band jamming along to the Stooges Fun House while on angel dust), the Woodpussy Dancers soon climbed onstage and joined the party -- rubbing chocolate syrup, cream soap, and other "fluids" onto (and into) each other's naked bodies, making use of what looked like a gigantic Tupperware dildo (hey, where's Phranc when we really need a product demonstration?), and (oh Lord, the photos of this are really gonna raise hell on eBay!) using the stage as a toilet! Seen enjoying themselves during all this was a cross section of L.A.'s most deranged scenesters, including a hermaphrodite, a Wells Fargo security guard who snuck in the club's side door, and a Sid Vicious clone who showed his admiration for the band by projectile-vomiting in front of the stage while dancing wildly with a threesome of highly impressed punkettes. While Freek Show remains a staunch supporter of the downtown arts district scene and especially the gallery at which this event was being held, we almost changed our tune after being greeted with an earful of rudeness when we arrived. In the future, we promise we'll fax our press credentials and photo pass requests to the gallery three weeks before the show, but please spare us from that pissy (literally, in this case) "punk rock attitude" schtick next time...