One Eyed Jack's

October 03, 2004

“Two dollars. I want my two dollars.”—the psychotic newspaper boy from “Better Off Dead.”

Fifteen dollars. I want my fifteen dollars. Well, I don’t exactly feel cheated out of all of my money. I’d let One Eyed Jack’s keep seven, and I’d go home with eight. The Melvins played for forty-five minutes before they started rocking. That’s when the mosh pit started and the energy began traveling between the audience and the band. Before the band could establish a flow within a row of songs, they shut the concert down. One hour and they went back to their dressing room. I was robbed.

The Melvins did perform their disjunctive, sludge rock well for the first forty-five minutes, but there was still tension in the air. The band wasn’t loud enough, and they didn’t give the crowd reason to go crazy until they themselves let loose. Sure, lead singer/guitarist King Buzzo was head banging from the first chord, but that didn’t mean it was head-bang worthy yet. The Melvins managed to warm the crowd up, but they didn’t follow through. I’m disappointed. Why should I pay to see them again? You think Fugazi could beat up The Melvins? The Melvins need a $5 policy.

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