Murderdolls + Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster
Edinburgh Liquid Room, Thursday 12th December 2002
The Murderdolls are either mad, stupid or very very confident. Why else would they allow a band like the Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster to open for them? Because the Eighties boys are just fantastic live. Racing through a short but blistering set of perfectly honed two minute slices of hard rock mayhem, they are utterly mesmerising.
Musically they're tighter than Kylie's bum; visually they're pure rock'n'roll entertainment, all flailing arms and swinging guitars, whilst lead singer Guy is like a mad Hobbit on E, wild starey eyes raking across the crowd like lasers. Exuding an intense over-the-edge sense of unpredictability, you get the impression that at any moment these guys could do something dangerous: pull out an Uzi and gun us all down - or perhaps just jump into the crowd and start hugging us. Either way, you don't want to get too close. However, I hope what they will do is become huge. Very huge. Cuz I can't wait to see them on Top of the Pops...
So how do the Murderdolls follow that? Well, they do have a slight advantage in that the predominantly school age, Slipknot hoodie-wearing audience is here to see them - and have found themselves rather bemused by the full frontal aural assault of the Eighties boys.
Musically, the Dolls are nothing to get over-excited about. Modelling themselves on the likes of Alice Cooper and Mötley Crüe, they actually come across more like Twisted Sister (although with better eye make-up), with infectious beats that get the crowd jumpin' coupled with chunky riffs and shouty choruses that are easy to pick up and shout back. The lyrics aren't exactly Shakespeare either: songs that a theatrical master like Alice Cooper would weave into delightfully twisted, tongue in cheek tales become cheesy teenage anthems in the hands of the Dolls.
But hey, they look great (like Crüe, only less '80s), their sound is polished and professional and they're clearly having a fantastic time up there, something which readily communicates itself to the eager crowd. There is perhaps something rather sad and cynical about their obvious targeting of the teenage market and really I feel that at my age I ought to have something better to do of a Thursday night than jump up and down to a song called 'I Love to say Fuck' - and yet it's fun! It's big, dumb, silly American fun... and I loved it! They may not be musical geniuses, but then again they don't set out to be: instead, the Murderdolls are the epitome of rock'n'roll excess, glamour and fun. And that's just fine by me.
Murderdolls + Stone Sour, 10th July 2003
