RAVEN IT UP!
New York City’s Cat Club seemed an odd place for Raven to be playing a showcase, considering that the group’s audience is probably 12-to-18-year-old males— and you have to be 21 to get in the door. Still, they were there in all their chained-leathered and spandexed glory, to see the Gallagher brothers: Mark on guitar and John on bass and vocals, attacking the stage with all of the enthusiasm of two kamikaze pilots.
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RAVEN IT UP!
RAVEN
The Cat Club, New York
May 21, 1987
Kris Nicholson
New York City’s Cat Club seemed an odd place for Raven to be playing a showcase, considering that the group’s audience is probably 12-to-18-year-old males— and you have to be 21 to get in the door. Still, they were there in all their chained-leathered and spandexed glory, to see the Gallagher brothers: Mark on guitar and John on bass and vocals, attacking the stage with all of the enthusiasm of two kamikaze pilots. Drummer Wacko, sitting behind a fortress of drums, helmeted and masked, looked like a hockey goalie, only a hundred times more fierce.
The band’s appearance was supposed to arouse some enthusiasm from their fans, and, hopefully, some support from their record company—and probably would have been successful had the scheduled 11:00 showtime not been arbitrarily changed to 1:00 a.m., much to the band’s shock and disappointment.
All recognizable record company people left hours before the group hit the stage. However, the audience—though small—seemed steadfast, loyal and true, leaning towards the stage when the volume of the band was well beyond 11. That alone was proof that, this night, Raven was playing for a huddle of faithful fanatics.
As the bracelets on my wrist clinked together and the ring vibrated off my finger I began to feel like a good candidate for a new Maxell tape advertisement. My bones were rattling, my head was bopping, my ears soon melted and became one with my head. This was heavy metal—as blinding, malevolent, furious and aggressive as it gets.
Make no mistake, Mark Gallagher’s guitar playing is a force to be reckoned with. Underneath his fast and flashy technique there lurks a guitarist whose skill matches his speed. I keep thinking: if only there were a few more spaces between the notes, a bit more contrast would surface—and these guys could stop for an occasional breath of air. But, then, it wouldn’t be the same event. The aggression and anger channelled and released for Raven—as well as the audience—would be diminished.
And these guys need an outlet for their frustrations. As John introduced “Never Forgive” (from their latest album, Life’s A Bitch), he added a little tribute to his record company. “You want to see us do a commercial album? Well, we said fuck you!” (Apparently that was the best decision the band has made so far. With a total of seven albums, it seems Raven knows which way to fly. Their current record is on it’s way to 200,000 sales, and that’s without timely support from a video. Except for a brief tour before the release of the record and a few club dates in May there had been minimal touring. Their flight is more directed than ever and, considering the ever-swelling interest in heavy metal, who’s to stop them? Who’d dare try?)
Raven’s got the energy, the image, the skill and the balls. Their music seems to be their only vice, as well as their only goal. Drummer Wacko bashed out manic rhythms with crazed abandon; “Stay Hard,” “Life’s A Bitch,” “Seek And Destroy” and “Overload,” every once in a while getting an itch and standing up on his drum seat. Singer/bassist John Gallagher’s fast-paced raps between songs linked all this insanity together. At one point—near the end of the show— he wasn’t satisifed with the energy the audience was putting out.. . so he jumped onto the dance floor and confronted people face to face, kicking chairs out of his path.
Meanwhile, guitarist Mark Gallagher stalked the stage like a restless, hungry tiger, staring and coaxing the audience for a response, swinging and bashing his guitars around. Like toys he’d tired of, he quickly moved on to the next six-string victim.
I can’t help but feel that this was all wasted energy. On the one hand, few of the “right” people were there to see it. Yet, on the other hand, Raven gave out plenty and got so little in return. This is probably good practice—as well as a momentum builder that could one day bring them to the lofty heights they aspire to.
Once Raven left the stage the silence was deafening—and for days I felt I’d just had my eardrums pierced. But the thing that stays with me most now is how intent Raven was on doing what they do better than anyone else, no matter what the circumstances. Whether this particular big black bird is your cup of tea or not, one thing is certain: Raven is on a collision course with recognition and no prey is immune to their attack.
