GWAR is alive and well, folks. That was the most important takeaway from the band's performance at Warehouse Live on Sunday. It was something that didn't seem quite possible when Dave Brockie, the man who fronted the band for 30 years under the foam-rubber guise of Oderus Urungus, passed away in March. He'd been the shock-rock troupe's memorable face, voice and id for so long that it was practically inconceivable that GWAR could exist without him.
But as Oderus was always happy to tell anyone and everyone who'd listen, GWAR is immortal. The scumdogs will always soldier on, and in hindsight, it seems silly to have doubted it. The very respectable Sunday night crowd that filled Warehouse Live showed up curious to see what GWAR would look and sound like post-Oderus, but confident that their favorite costumed freaks would still deliver the goods.
And deliver they did. Sunday night's show was chock full of all of the obscene violence, sexual innuendo and bodily fluids that audiences have learned to expect from GWAR over the decades. The most experienced and devoted fans were easy to pick out. They wore white T-shirts; the better to show off the gory aftermath of blood and bile pouring off the stage. But before they could be soaked, before they could properly pay tribute to the fallen Oderus, they'd have to survive the opening acts.