Gig Review

Imprint: Arts (Friday 27 September 1996 (Volume 19, Number 11))


Just one question for the Nazis

Forgotten Rebels w/ the Sinisters and Collect All Three
The Volcano
Friday September 13
by Klaus Steden, Imprint staff


Too many fucking Nazis. That about sums up the whole Forgotten Rebels show. Way too many skins with red laces for my tastes. But then, I was there to see a show, and not comment on the herd mentality of some of the people of my generation. Though not on the bill, local punkers Pablum opened up. They rocked hard, putting on a decent show that was somewhat wasted on the mostly indifferent crowd. I talked to a few of the guys in the band after their set, and they were actually kind of glad that they had been left off the marquee... again, it's that Nazi thing. They don't like them either. Some band called Collect All Three was up next. If I may quote Jello Biafra: "Yawn!" Just your average guitar-bass-drums combination, serving up the standard post-punk fare.

Following them were Toronto's Sinisters. I'd heard good things about these guys on various southern Ontario radio stations. Sadly, they didn't live up to the hype. Stereotyped punk posturing is all these guys seemed to be good at, although the lead singer, looking very much like a clone of the young Iggy Pop, displayed his remarkable talents for spitting (he even managed to land a loogie on his back... and sneeze on the stage at least once) and falling down like a rag doll. Clap, clap, clap. The masses are most impressed. The crowd seemed to have a lot of fun with their generic brand of hardcore punk, spending the majority of their set heaving beer cups at the stage, and spitting back at them. Yum, yum, yum, hardcore is fun.

Then came the real draw of the night, Canadian punk legends the Forgotten Rebels. I don't know about you, but it's so hard to be impressed by a punker who looks, dresses, and postures like Rod Stewart. Anyway... what about the show? They hit the stage with "Teenage Kicks." Then came "Bomb the Boats," much to the delight of the Nazis in the audience. Just one question for said Nazis: Do you people know what satire is? They plugged on with all the Rebels standards, like "In Love With the System," "A.I.D.S.," (more Nazi approval) "Little Girl in the Snow," "Hell Begins at Home," and "Auto Suck," before they had to take a brief pause to instruct the audience that "moshing does not include fists." They finished their set, prolonged by complaints from Mickey that "sniff, snort, cough, sneeze, I'm kinda under the weather," with a punked-up version of the Who's "The Kids Are Alright," the classics "Evelyn Dick," and "I Left My Heart in Iran."

At this point, things just sorta got stupid. That CKWR DJ (you know, the one with the hair and the bald spot) hopped up onstage to tell us to scream real loud so the band would come back and play some more. Then some other schlep joined in, reminding the crowd that "This isn't fucking Green Day. This isn't the fucking Ramones. This isn't the fucking Sex Pistols... this is the real fucking thing. This is not the fucking Ramones, this is the fucking Forgotten Rebels." To which they responded with a return to the stage to play... "Blitzkrieg Bop"! Oops! After that, they played five more songs, including "Science Fiction Double Feature", closing out the night with the immortal "Surfin' on Heroin."

At this point, I was glad to leave this disappointment. Far be it from me to downplay the impact the Rebels had on Canadian music and punk rock, but by now, I think it's high time to retire permanently. Most of the band seemed uninterested, and Mickey DeSadist's voice was just raw. Granted, he had a cold, but hacking your way through a show is not the way to go. I think that he should pack it in, before it gets any more embarassing. The Forgotten Rebels should be remembered as something special in the music world, not as one aging punker and three disinterested sidemen. Give it up, before you really are forgotten. I'm really glad I didn't have to pay to witness such an embarassing spectacle. And to the fuckhead who compensated for the lack of any spark of intellect by throwing firecrackers into the pit, get a clue, asshole!