Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Most Popular

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of St. Louis's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & Riverfront Times

National Features >

  • Village Voice

    The Great Walls of Chinatown

    With the exception of the electric rice cookers, this Bowery tenement could have come straight from the Nineteenth Century.

    By Elizabeth Dwoskin

  • Houston Press

    Getting Off

    DUI attorney Tyler Flood wins 80 percent of his trials--even if his clients were 100 percent drunk.

    By Mike Giglio

  • Miami New Times

    Park or Die Tryin'

    From the homeless parking mafia to the meter fairy, finding a spot in Miami has taken a turn toward the surreal.

    By Gus Garcia-Roberts

  • City Pages

    The Baddest Men on the Planet

    Straight from the Sam's Club tire shop, Brett Rogers prepares to meet Fedor Emelianenko in mortal combat.

    By Bradley Campbell

Combichrist

7:30 p.m. Saturday, June 20. Pop's, 401 Monsanto Avenue, Sauget, Illinois.

Share

  • rss

By D.X. Ferris

Published on June 16, 2009 at 11:10am

Norway's Combichrist represents the perennial electro/dance entry in the ongoing sweepstakes to produce the new KISS or a reasonable facsimile of the old Marilyn Manson — which, at best, results in the next Gravity Kills or Mushroomhead. On records like the new Today We Are All Demons, Combichrist is solely the work of main man Andy LaPlegua, who barks Rammstein-worthy jackboot anthems like "WTFIWWY" (as in "Hey You What The Fuck Is Wrong With You?" [repeat]). Live, he fronts a quartet of backing players with names like Z_Marr (keyboards) and Mr. Petersen (more keyboards). The electro-head commando's visual edge takes equal cues from classic industrial and nü metal, with floppy black hair, big Mohawks, raccoon-eye makeup, tight turtlenecks, dirty gray overalls, sharp-edged facial piercings and an extra protective layer of fetish gear. It all would amount to so much glam if the Viking descendents didn't deliver live. In concert big-bass rhythms and spiraling electronica keyboards take on a metallic edge, which makes the floor more of a full-contact frenzy than a dance party.