BLOOD, SWEAT AND GORE
GORE GORE GIRLS
9:30 Club
Washington, D.C.
October 9, 2004
Mojo Room
Baltimore, Maryland
October 11, 2004
Words: DOUG SHEPPARD
Picture: ERIC RIFE
Did you hear about the catfight down by the gym? Yep, those lasses always acting so tough, the Donnas, got into it with some bad little Motor City women called the Gore Gore Girls and had their clocks cleaned. And apparently, the Detroit damsels really had their way, turning some Donna ass upside down, shakin’ out their lunch money, and stuffing ’em into lockers. Guess we know who the toughest girls are at Rock & Roll High School now.
Or at least that’s the way it seemed when the Gore Gore Girls rolled into the 9:30 Club to open for the Cramps on October 9 for their first-ever Washington, D.C. show. Ivy, Lux and Co. were the ones the crowd came for, and they delivered well in their headlining slot, but the ultra-hip ladies of Gore won over the crowd with a fine opening set combining fashion, fierceness, and flame-thrower rock and roll.
Anyone already familiar with the gory Motown women, however, knew what to expect. Through several lineups and two great albums, 2001’s Strange Girls and 2002’s Up All Night, plus singles and compilation appearances, the GGG have proven their mettle with snarling, beer-fueled Detroit rock and roll mixing rockabilly, girl groups, and garage punk.
So that brings us to the 2004 model, which has more accessories and more horsepower than anything on the Gore Gore showroom floor before. Leader Amy Surdu still holds the fort on guitar and lead vocals, and she’s flanked by the leanest, meanest, teen-dream-queenest, screamingest bunch of Gores ever: Nikki Styxx (way better than that Crueschmuck who she rhymes with) on the traps, Bond heroine in waiting Jen “The Deuce” Pirch on bass, and Gretsch-toting gee-tar raven Marlene “Hammer” Hammerle on second axe. (Gores got lotsa Gretsch guitars, but more on that later.)
Taking the stage in the snazziest bunch of matching chrome-sparkle dresses since Cher dumped Sonny, the Gores had the crowd in their grasp before they even played a note. Out front, the Hammer-Amy-Deuce wall enthralled with not only the threads and the fishnets (actually striped stockings on the Hammer), but also the ’60s-inspired bouffants and the nice boots, particularly on Deuce, whose knee-high black stilettos have to be the envy of 100 vintage clothing store clerks.
The music backed up the image, and the GGG kicked off with a simple snare beat from Styxx that soon escalated into the tribal “Voodoo Doll,” followed by “Mary Ann” and a pair of album tracks, “Star Struck” and “Cross County Lines.” All as raging as a drunk-on-scotch preacher in east Detroit, these four tunes set the tone for the show: Amy brandishing her white Gretsch Falcon and shooting fireballs without the aid of lighter fluid, Deuce and the Hammer chiming in vocally and instrumentally, and the flashy Styxx sticks moving the Gores like a screaming vixen in a Herschel Gordon Lewis film.
Basically, the set was a non-stop rave-up that only intensified the longer it went. Gorified versions of the Golliwogs’ “Fight Fire” and the Poppy Family’s “Where Evil Grows” were turned up to 11, “Hot Rod Breakdown” and “Hunt You Down” were as cool as the album versions and, mainly, the Gore Gore Girls showcased some killer new stuff. “Loaded Heart” aptly describes this straight-from-the-ventricle rocker, “All Grown Up” is a loving tribute to their hometown (on which they sway in unison), and “Casino,” “Don’t Cry” and “You Lied to Me Before” make me even more impatient for album number three. And to show they’re not just rockers, the Hammer put down her shiny black Gretsch and played a mean slide on “Little Baby.”
How great was their set? Don’t ask me, ask a male attendee (donning a Gretsch T-shirt, no less) of their Baltimore show two nights later, when they briefly broke away from the Cramps tour to play the Mojo Room. “I went to see the Cramps [in D.C.] and had never heard of the Gore Gore Girls, but I ended up liking the Gore Gore Girls more,” he said.
Attending the show gratis by virtue of a guest listing (thanks Deuce), I witnessed the Baltimore show transpire in the more intimate setting of a small bar. (Plus beer’s cheaper in Baltimore, so I downed $1 Genesee Cream Ales in tribute.) The girls had exchanged their silver for black dresses (they rotate through a couple matching outfits, ya see), and Deuce’s cherry red Burns bass had made way for a nice mahogany Gretsch (Gretsch now sponsors the Gore Gore Girls), but otherwise, the B-more show was more of the same -- in other words, great. And before “Casino,” Amy returned the favor for a prank (inside joke, never mind) I played on her in DC: “This one’s dedicated to Doug Sheppard, whoever the fuck that is.” (Some fellow Washingtonians chortled.)
After hawking some GGG swag, signing autographs, and interacting, the Gore Gore Girls were back to the Cramped tour for another month.
Anyway, I liked the Donnas’ last album on Atlantic, so I’m gonna check and make sure they’re not still stuck in those lockers.
