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GWAR

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GWAR
The National — Richmond, VA
GWAR
Reverb — Reading, PA
GWAR
The Paramount in concert with Northwell — Huntington, NY
GWAR
The Queen — Wilmington, DE
GWAR
Starland Ballroom — Sayreville, NJ
GWAR
Citizens House of Blues Boston — Boston, MA
GWAR
Newport Music Hall — Columbus, OH
GWAR
Mercury Ballroom — Louisville, KY
GWAR
The Pageant — Saint Louis, MO
GWAR
Concord Music Hall — Chicago, IL
GWAR
Roseland Theater — Portland, OR
GWAR
Channel 24 — Sacramento, CA
GWAR
The Belasco — Los Angeles, CA
GWAR
House of Blues San Diego — San Diego, CA
GWAR
Emo's Austin — Austin, TX
GWAR
The Fillmore Charlotte — Charlotte, NC
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Kentucky Expo Center — Louisville, KY

GWAR started as an elaborate joke that got completely out of hand. Dave Brockie and a group of artists and musicians in Richmond, Virginia formed the band in 1984, initially as performance art tied to a local collective called Slave Pit Inc. The concept was absurd from the start: ancient alien warriors exiled to Earth, forced to play heavy metal. What began as a way to create costumes and characters for local cable access TV somehow became a legitimate touring band that's lasted four decades.

The costumes matter more than you'd think. We're talking massive latex armor, codpieces that spray fluids into the crowd, and elaborate stage props. Early shows featured the band decapitating celebrities and politicians, covering audiences in fake blood and other substances. Your clothes were ruined. That was the point. Underneath the spectacle was actual thrash metal, though it took a while for anyone to notice.

Their 1988 debut "Hell-O" and 1990's "Scumdogs of the Universe" established the formula. "Scumdogs" got them noticed beyond the cult circuit, partly because the music was genuinely heavy and partly because venues didn't know what to do with them. "America Must Be Destroyed" in 1992 brought songs like "Crack in the Egg" and their cover of "Carry On Wayward Son" that proved they could actually play. Metal Blade Records gave them enough rope to hang themselves, and instead they built a career.

The mid-90s were their commercial peak, relatively speaking. "This Toilet Earth" in 1994 and "Ragnarok" in 1995 charted, which seems impossible for a band whose singer performed as an intergalactic barbarian named Oderus Urungus. They got played on MTV. Beavis and Butt-head featured them. Joan Rivers interviewed them in character. The bit never broke.

Lineup changes happened constantly, which made sense given the physical demands and the fact that members hid behind character names. But Dave Brockie was always Oderus, always the frontman. When he died in 2014 from a heroin overdose, it felt like the end. The band took time off, then came back with "The Blood of Gods" in 2017, replacing Oderus with a new character and Michael Bishop returning as Blóthar the Berserker.

They're still touring now, still spraying crowds, still destroying effigies of whoever seems worth destroying that election cycle. The music shifted over time—more groove metal, some thrash, occasional punk—but the core idea hasn't changed. It's performance art that happens to be a functional metal band, or maybe a functional metal band that happens to be performance art. Either way, they've outlasted most of their peers by committing completely to a stupid idea and refusing to apologize for it. Forty years in monster suits playing clubs and festivals. Not many bands can say that.

Known for Rag Time, I'll Be Your Bolton, Sick of You, Slaughterama, Have You Seen Me

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