By Hans Morgenstern
By Joseph Hess
By Peter Gilstrap
By Julia Burch
By Jeremy Essig
By Nathan Smith
By Julie Seabaugh
By Julie Seabaugh
Over at the Creepy Crawl, it took two metal-dudes in Waco Jesus a load of brain power to raise the mics to their mouths and bellow a glottal rrrrgghhh, mmmmphhhh mmmphh mmpph/rrrrr hurr hurr hurr. It was relentless; it was funny; it was death metal; it was simple. It was everything but dangerous.
Now, Mortiis, over at Karma, on the other hand, was not only all of the above but quite embarrassing to boot. The concept: an elfin dwarf. Picture Yoda with a chip on his shoulder and all the toil and trouble of Tinky Winky. This dude -- we assume his name's Mortiis (though if you flicked his witchy nose off, chances are you'd see some fellow named Ralph quivering underneath) -- wore all black leather, with a fake skull affixed to his crotch, extendo-pointer ears, a long black wig and said Broom Hilda nose. He and his minions stood there looking all dangerous, pounding on their electronic drums and mumbling shit like "Again we shall travel, conquer and kill! By sword, axe and hand ... into the gate of stars."
Evil Yoda guy then stomped over to the side of Karma's stage, led a faux sacrificial virgin onto stage, strapped her onto a little cross and dabbed her with red corn syr -- er, lamb's blood. She looked a bit sad, but not scared, and it was hard not to feel for her; not only is she traveling around doing this, she's gotta see Ralph/Mortiis at 10 a.m. every day after he's poured this red stuff all over his body.
It's enough to make you want to follow dc Talk and ignore Satan altogether.
Send all local tapes, tips, discs and detritus to "Radar Station," c/o The Riverfront Times, 6358 Delmar Blvd., Suite 200, St. Louis, MO 63130; e-mail: randall_roberts @rftstl.com.