Vandals strip naked

When a band opens its set with a song entitled "Live Fast, Diarrhea," you know that you're in for a treat. Leave it to the Vandals to not only open their set with said tune, but to dub one of their albums with the very same name.

REVIEW
	The Vandals Sep. 21, 1998 The Shelter

The Vandals, for those in the outgroup, is known in the world of punk rock as, let's say, one of the most "eccentric" bands in the scene today. Warrants for their arrest have been issued in at least three foreign countries and at a now infamous show in California, fans started an all-out riot in the streets.

Why, you may ask, do these punks draw so much attention to themselves? Had you been at the Shelter on Monday night, you would've discovered what so many other fans already know.

The evening started off with Chicago's Apocalypse Hoboken, without a doubt one of the worst bands the Windy City has ever produced. Fortunately, the Aquabats followed that band. The real attraction for some in the crowd, including members of the Atomic Fireballs, there's only one way to describe The Aquabats: superheros who play ska.

Picture this: a stage with a small picket fence surrounding the drumset, a forest-like setting with a beautiful sky-blue banner in the background, and nine men in purple spandex, lime green shorts, silver skullcaps and masks. Throw in some firework

Courtesy of Restless Records Dave Quackenbush, Doug Mackinnon and Nils Ackerman are some strange bandits.

s, a giant cyclops, a man-sized chicken and you have an Aquabats show. Devo, eat your heart out.

Amazingly, the Vandals needed no costumes, fences or chickens to show up their fellow Californians. Their equipment looked shabby and road worn (a result, no doubt, of almost 20 years as a band), and almost as if it was thrown together at the last minute. The band members themselves looked like a group of unlikely punks, picked up off the street to fill in at the last minute.

A group of unlikely punks and one psycho, that is. The Vandals carry a secret weapon on every tour, one that promises a spectacle at each and every show. His name is Warren Fitzgerald, and he plays guitar. Rumored to be a classically trained pianist, Fitzgerald is no Carnegie Hall performer. Admittedly a talented guitarist, there's much more to Fitzgerald than music. Warren, Vandals fans know, is famous for his habit of exposure. And not with film. Monday night was no exception.

The 45-minute set included both new and old Vandals songs. Songs like "My Girlfriend's Dead," "Ape Drape" and "Come out Fighting" from their latest release, "Hitler Bad, Vandals Good" (Nitro) were mixed with staples of every Vandals show like "It's a Fact," "Happy Birthday to me," "And now we Dance" and "Pizza Tran." After incessant begging from the crowd, the band agreed to take a few requests, including "Power Mustache," and its Christmas anthem "Oy! to the World."

As usual, the real chaos began at the end of their set, when lead singer Dave Quackenbush took over the duties of guitar player and Warren the responsibility of lead singer. After a rousing rendition of "I Wanna be a Teen Idol" Fitzgerald and company launched into their now classic version of "I Have a Date."

As the song progressed, Warren mounted the stage left speaker stack, climbing to the top and cramming his small frame in between the uppermost cabinet and the low ceiling of the Shelter. Perched, or rather wedged there, Warren sang at least one verse of the song before the audience, not to mention Shelter management, fearing for their lives and lawsuits, urged him down from said heights.

Before leaving his place in the sky, however, Warren did mounting of another kind, taking out his sexual urges on a pole that supports the Shelter's ceiling. Love-making over and done with, Warren ended the anthem to teenage sexuality while standing on top of the bass drum, with his shorts hiked up g-sting fashion, just before he took a dive to the stage floor. He ended the tune with his shirt gone, standing atop the center stage monitor, pants falling halfway off his otherwise naked frame.

Quackenbush returned to rock the mic one last time at night's end for the band's version of "Summer Lovin'" from "Grease." It seemed a fitting end to a sultry summer night full of superheros, punk rock and insanity.

09-23-98