Going on a Quest

and you should too

I used to go out for live music weekly-plus, but since I moved last year it’s been more of a monthly thing and I’m picky about it. This winter has been so cold and sloppy and gray that I actually hadn’t gone to anything at all yet this year—but when I saw the flyer posted for the Evil Sword record release show at Ruba, I knew I had to get myself to the gig. I saw them last September at Philamoca with Quintron and Miss Pussycat (sadly had to leave a little early because I’d gotten flu+covid shots that morning and for the first time ever was actually feeling Weird afterward) and knew I was in for a good time. This was also the hometown kickoff as they head off on tour for the Skit Split (with Miss Pussycat on the other side), including a New Orleans show with the madam herself which I imagine will be completely nuts.

What a treat that Evil Sword is now a “local band” for me. Oh man. I managed to secure a chair off to the side right up front, aka the ideal viewing spot unless somebody stood directly in front of me, during the set before, and then I held onto it for dear life because I wanted to see as much detail as possible this time. Philamoca is a cool venue, but that show was packed and I didn’t nudge my way forward and everyone seemed tall as hell. Ruba’s stage is nice and high and I showed up way early to camp out. There is a ton to look at. In addition to the core duo, they brought a team of several gremlin assistants dressed in coordinating hooded cloaks to animate a magic pebble and serve as warts on a giant’s face. Both musicians had little flutes. A trumpet was involved. I was actually maybe too close because pots and pans flew everywhere and a prancing prince smashed the absolute shit out of a chair and a guy sliiightly closer to the action had to jump back to avoid the chunks hurtling toward him.

Maybe I should back up and give a little context, but I don’t know if I can.

Evil Sword is a band, and they play…music. But they also cause sounds. And there is a plot. They come from a strange swamp world. “Experimental art” might be the most correct way to describe what goes on. You should go see for yourself, they’re touring now. There’s a percussionist and a bassist, and sometimes there’s a melody and a chorus. It all seems very chaotic and random, but I suspect an unbelievable amount of thought and plotting goes into it. And I’ve never seen anyone play a bass like Mr. Sword does—I’m kinda clueless about guitar-type instruments and I’m due for another round of trying to learn a few chords for a week and putting it back in the closet, but to me, it looks like he’s an extremely proficient guitarist who decided it would be way cooler to do all that on a bass. No bomp bomp bomp here, it’s expressive, nimble playing and becomes a character on its own. Percussion is a whole ‘nother animal and I have no idea what all the toys are. For “just” a duo, they really do manage to make an unholy racket. Their neighbors are probably keeping several exorcists in business, to no avail. This band has been around since (at least based on what’s on their Bandcamp) 2012; God cannot or will not stop them.

It’s just a lot of fun. These people are crazy in the refreshing, inspiring way. I’m back in the sewing room because I now have an urgent need to make myself some slouchy hooded layers with pockets for my magic flute keys and miscellanea. The great thing is that it doesn’t matter if a hem is uneven or something rips and tears, because that’s goblincore. Honestly, it’s a genius concept for stage costumes because you will wreck your outfit pretty often, especially touring rigorously with such a bananas performance style. Rip a piece off your cape because it got stuck in a door? Rip it some more. Staple something else to it. It’ll grow back, or ferment, or gain sentience…there’s no time to fret about it when you’re rocking from the darkest depths of the haunted forest.

Who should go see Evil Sword? Everyone, really. I would consider taking my mom because she’s pretty game for wacky shit. Bring a friend you can jump around with. I wish I’d had some old contra pals there because you could totally do some contact improv type wiggling and bopping around to it if you somehow aren’t totally enraptured by what’s happening onstage the whole time. If you’re burnt out on the standard three-or-four-band bills, this will fix you. Sometimes all you need is to see somebody destroy a chair.

Before I go, I do want to shout out Kilynn Lunsford’s bassist, who clearly has the time of his life, every single time. During this set a guy parked himself directly in my line of vision, but I still had a perfect view of the bassist, and that was all I needed because I was completely transfixed by this man’s absolute groove. Fantastic night for bassists.

Thus concludes my application for Evil Sword’s gremlin crew. We love you, Evil Sword.