In concert, the Gotham quartet takes the album's thunderous, metallic songs of demons, sexual perversity and revenge fantasy ("Super-Charger Heaven,""Blur the Technicolor,""I, Zombie") to wild heights.
In concert, the Gotham quartet takes the album’s thunderous, metallic songs of demons, sexual perversity and revenge fantasy (“Super-Charger Heaven,””Blur the Technicolor,””I, Zombie”) to wild heights.
Exploding flashpots, an elaborate lighting setup, a variety of fireworks, hanging corpses and an endless loop of B-movie clips on the backdrop gave the packed house plenty to take in. It also diverted attention from the members’ musical skills, which are not a strength with this bunch. Lots of samples helped fatten the sound.
Leader Rob Zombie howled his way through the show’s 15 songs, strutting about the stage like a psycho drill sergeant, while his minions laid down super-heavy grooves, crushing syncopated beats and lots of screeching guitar riffs. And the pogo-ing fans ate it up, shaking this old venue’s floor from show’s start to its end some 80 minutes later.
White Zombie throws just about every arena-rock cliche into its concerts, going to such an extreme as to make the whole thing rather irresistible, especially considering the lack of effort most current bands put into their concerts.