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GRIM REAPER’S HALLOWEEN HORROR

RESEDA, CA—They walked onstage, two with pig-masks and the drummer brandishing a three-pronged kitchen knife. The singer, handed an otter from a stagehand garbed in black, grabbed the animal by its tail and proceeded to lick its snout more than a half-dozen times; then down on his knees he butchered its throat and grabbed a drumstick to gouge the eyeballs.

March 1, 1985
Gregg Turner

The CREEM Archive presents the magazine as originally created. Digital text has been scanned from its original print format and may contain formatting quirks and inconsistencies.

GRIM REAPER’S HALLOWEEN HORROR

The Beat Goes on

RESEDA, CA—They walked onstage, two with pig-masks and the drummer brandishing a three-pronged kitchen knife. The singer, handed an otter from a stagehand garbed in black, grabbed the animal by its tail and proceeded to lick its snout more than a half-dozen times; then down on his knees he butchered its throat and grabbed a drumstick to gouge the eyeballs. These were then devoured in the name of Stan (er, Satan, but Stan will do): “Oh Lucifer (Stan), master of spirit and soul, sucketh I the thick black vitriol from within the creature’s tiny orbs. And YES, I proudly accept the bag of maggots symbolic of my servitude and time-infinite subservience.” He accepted the bag of maggots and promised to swallow the contents drenched in otter-blood. He did this and then vomited the concoction of the face of the kid with the Twisted Sister T-shirt—the crowd erupted with approval...

Then again, none of the above might never have not occurred. If the truth be known, nothing much did in fact come to surface this Hallow’s Eve despite the metallic-heavy (lower-case h and m) print-ads hyping “Halloween With Grim Reaper” as some possibly ominous event to take form and shape at the Country Club th’night of 10/31. Well “ominous” in the context of ’80s H&M usually means predictable and d-u-1-1 and of course this night was no exception.

Trick or treat #2 (not counting the Reagan-Bush votes of confidence on shirts and jackets all over the place) was opening act Witch—not listenable by any stretch of the imaginos (for their preoccupation with exposing chest-hair [very hep!] they receive the prestigious Baby Fae “Baboon-heart” plaque and trophy). Lead-singer’s androgynous Jim Dandy/Kevin DuBrow hybrid the scary moment of the night (Boo!).

Jesus Christ (best costume) introduces Reaper finally and the band busts out w/an impressive set of grungey, likeable numbers remarkable if only for the lack of MTV-studied poses and retarded hand-me-down choreography (see: Witch). The kid on lead vokes is pudgy (a la Ozzy) and not hung up w/the usual shmoe-routine or otherwise narcissistic frontman business one usually encounters.

“All this devil stuff’s just for laughs,” he chortles some time after the band’s encore with chart hit “See You In Hell.” Then proclaims that “you get into trouble when you start taking all of this too seriously.” OK.

T. o. T. #3: The guy with the white sheet over his head—the one calling himself “Casper the friendly ghost” wants the editors of this esteemed ’zine to know “that fuckin’ heavy-metal’s where it’s at” and “CREEM better get it straight.” OK.

Gregg Turner