The Vicious
The Bonezone
Richmond, VA
April 2007
By Jillian Abbene
(SugarBuzz Wash DC/Richmond VA)
This is a house show. Made up of mainly 20 somethings, this is a gathering down in the dark wrecked belly of an old house smack-dab in historical Oregon Hill, Richmond — where this will make a more intimate setting for a show. There is no stage. It is basically where audience meets band. Donations are being taken at the door to support tonight’s line-up with, ‘The Vicious’ headlining. There is a distinct buzz as the line of onlookers shell out a few bills in support.
It is jammed pack with naive anticipation. No standing room to be had. Andreas, the guitarist, stands firmly, feet planted on the ground, sandwiched, leaving nothing but a few inches of air between—with no barrier. The crowd is in everyone else’s personal space.
With quick succession of guitar, indispensable mischievious-spun power-pop staticked punk, instantly warming up the atmosphere. With the precursored launching of their new 7” and CD to follow in October, The Vicious magically hypnotize with pogoing punk and mouthy verses.
All members with histories in other bands such as, Lost Patrol, Cult of Luna and International Noize Conspiracy, look comfortable, as Robert, the lead vocalist, performs without hesitation, letting out sharp shrieks from early inspirations in line with John Lydon and scratched up Perry Farrell from Jane’s Addiction.
Andreas stands legs apart, a heavy stance while shredding sputtering guitar. During the 2nd song, his guitar suddenly craps out and it is almost impossible to distinguish electric outlets from wires or plugs, which are all entangled. (Much like the crowd.) Just then, Robert slides into angry assertion. Spontaneity and timing play in as he shouts into shiny girl’s faces with convicted hoarse screeches.
Sara on bass, is not ruffled. With her coolness in a cropped leather jacket and steel-toed boots and upswept do, keeps hold. In Andreas’ desperation, he switches guitars, while the band resumes banging out an acoustic version of, “Alienated.” There is deep tribal drum signatures, as Andreas then picks up the solitary electric strums on another guitar, and hits the 3-chord fractions, igniting and intensifying the sound mirroring the reaction from the crowd. Jubilantly, everyone begins to sway. Robert shoulders in forward hunches, microphone pursed against his lips, shoves his body forward with yelping punching lyrics of, ‘Walking Dead,’ a targeting sound to old Gang of Four and even Devo, but with up-close participants to only add to the equation.
Immersed in the engulfing bodies, Robert penetrates into the core of welcoming fans and alluring females, only to be swallowed up in the storm of happy drunkenness, disappearing with just hearing his raspy scratchy shouts. André, handsomely tattooed on drums, pounds away like driving nails with cranking-out speed and rubber-band-tight beats in, ‘Suicidal Generation.’ Suffocating among the young, the rest of the front crowd gives a hard playful push to Robert who isn’t fazed by the strength in numbers. It was then I am forced to jump on top of an amp for a better view and breathing rights as the front row makes a futile attempt to contain the wasted crowd from pushing them literally into the band members as they continue with, ‘Dead Town’ and ‘Igen’ in adrenaline-rushed insurgence.
In the end, the band exposed the nerve of heightened camaraderie that doesn’t happen that often just the same. In that electricity, The Vicious claims the Richmond show as the best set they’ve ever done in the USA. Hey— it was definitely a great show…with a knowing nod of my head.