There used to be a club in Chicago called Lounge Ax.  On any night you could see 3-4 bands for a few dollars.  I saw the Dwarves there.  Nothing could have prepared me for that show. 

The drummer looked the least possessed.  Homeless perhaps, but probably the stabilizing factor in the band.  A Billy Idol looking guitarist wore a cave-man style leopard-skin shirt and a loin cloth.  He knelt on one knee, playing a flying V guitar, and stared at the ceiling.  Strings broke during the show, but onward he played, kneeling and gazing vacantly toward the heavens.  The 2nd guitarist wore just one article of clothing:  Panty hose covered his head.  Nothing more.  Not even a loin cloth.  The bass player was at least 6'10".  His lipstick was smeared, clown-like.  His eyes rolled from side to side, unable to find rest.  He had but one thing on his mind: sodomy.  The singer was beyond the repair of modern medicine.  His bug-eyes never blinked.  He screamed obscenities at the audience with the conviction of a man being tortured unto death.  He swung his mic like a helicopter blade, randomly clipping eager audience members. 

The songs lasted 40-50 seconds.  Pogo dancing?  Slam dancing?  Forget it.  These were bursts of raw animalistic aggression.  Just as a life was about to be snuffed out, the song would end.  Following 10 seconds of peace, the singer would assault the audience with a burst of random profanity.  Then 40 more seconds of "music".  At 2 a.m., ten minutes into the set, I sweated out the last drop of water in my body.  I was dying of thirst.  In my darkest hour of dehydration, amidst complete chaos, a girl calmly leaned over with a box of crackers and said in a sweet voice, "would you like a Triscuit?".  A fucking Triscuit.  Oh man.  No, I didn't want a Triscuit. 

10 more minutes of violence passed.  The Dwarves were about to start another song.  Instead, the singer/screamer kicked over the drum set, toppling the drummer.  The drummer looked confused, and bounced a drumstick off the singer's head.  Guitars and drums flew through the air, smashing to bits.  That was that.  I witnessed it.  Regardless of the Sex Pistols claims, the path of rock-n-roll ended there with the Dwarves. 

One of the opening bands was the Smugglers.  They were perhaps the antithesis of the Dwarves.

Smugglers - Rosie.mp3