Was the Messiah pose intentional? Does anyone care? It was hard to tell at Monday’s Powerman 5000 show. Photos by .
It was too perfect. As I stood in the dark of the on Monday night, a Looney Tunes-style classical score played and a pseudo-public service announcement boomed from the sound system. The pre-recorded voice encouraged the crowd to get rowdy and f*** things up, as if an invitation was needed.
But instead of Bugs Bunny tip-toeing out in drag to romance Elmer Fudd, Powerman 5000 lead vocalist Spider One led his bouncing four-member mini-army on to the stage, opening with “Nobody’s Real,” an onslaught of exaggerated fist pumping and hair twirling rolling out like a sissy punch. This would be the first in countless fist pump sessions, faux-metal axe-wielding guitar rock-outs, and requests for, well, more jumping from the crowd during the 15-song set.
Spider One was a wonderfully energetic and spry leader for both band and crowd, hustling commentary in between songs like “Automatic” and “Action” in his gruff southern speaking voice. PM5K performed like a well-oiled, speedy rap-metal machine, plowing through “Free” and “Super Villain” with a grinning ease, their campy performance never seeming to sink in as the joke it looked to be.
Spider’s taut arms and bleached-out spiky hair made him a dead ringer for Billy Idol, and I secretly hoped he would break into “Eyes Without a Face” at some point in the evening. But Spider stuck to his super-charged ditties about vampires and other dead things, shooting metal fingers like lasers out into the wild crowd.
During “Danger is a Go,” I attempted to give the raging girl next to me her space, but the Bluebird Theater’s flooring began to act much like my boyfriend’s bed, caving in a bit as I teetered into her armpit while she fist-pumped and yelled “Go! Go! Go!” Armpits aside, “Car Crash” and the last track “Bombshell” were quite enjoyable, continuing with PM5K’s tried and true method of punching out pop-metal goodness.
An encore finally brought us to Powerman’s peak with “World’s Collide,” Spider’s reptilian movements slipping fluidly between his band’s choreographed thrashing, the four now clad in futuristic light-exuding helmets.
When I left the venue, I wondered if Spider One took himself and his ’90s kitsch routine seriously. Because if he did, I feel a great sadness for him. But if he gets his own joke, the Powerman 5000 shtick is genius.
Bree Davies plays bass in , writes about her obsessions with Iggy Pop and Lil’ Wayne in , and repeatedly fakes her own death at . She is also a self-proclaimed addict.
Tina Hagerling is a Denver-based freelance photographer and web designer. See more of her work .
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