Late last night, on Mon., July 6 rumors began to spread that the Germs were playing a warehouse show in the West End at 585 Wells St.
After receiving a few conflicting reports I decided to do some investigating. The memorial for B Jay Womack at Manuel's Tavern was winding to a close and pretty much everyone there was reaching a state of drunken and emotional exhaustion. I needed some time away from the crowd, and I thought if nothing else, I'll take a nice, midnight joy ride through the West End. I grabbed my friend Lil' Ryan and said "Look man, if the Germs are playing in Atlanta tonight and we miss... Fuck that. We're not going to miss it. If it's a lie we'll leave. If it sucks, we'll leave."
He was down.
I drove around in circles, scoping out side streets until I saw the tell-tale swarm of under aged kids dressed in standard punk regalia milling around a darkened building on a seedy, seedy downtown street. This must be the place.
We paid the $5 cover and walked in. There amidst the graffiti scuffed walls and white concrete pillars was the unmistakably bleach blond glow of Lorna Doom, bass player for the Germs. A shirtless Don Bolles was running around too, as was the guy from "ER" who plays the part of the Germs' long-deceased vocalist and songwriter Darby Crash. There was no Pat Smear to be found, but there was a younger quasi look-alike whose name I didn't catch, who had also played in the opening band, the Krum Bums.
They were all very approachable, and beaming with smiles as kids swarmed around them, talking and laughing. Everyone in the group projected a happy, down-to-earth vibe and the energy in the room was thick and very positive.
The show began suddenly when someone called out "kill the lights!" The whole place was enveloped in blackness as the band fired up. A few seconds passed before one lonely light bulb poking out from somewhere near the drums flickered to life and illuminated the room. A kid with a green Mohawk led the vortex and West dominated the floor, pacing the room, deflecting slam dancers. A couple of kids in spiked jackets formed a human barrier around Doom as the tornado became increasingly chaotic.
Despite my initial reservations about the scab line-up, the band was absolutely on fire. One guy literally hung from the ceiling briefly. The group played about a 20 minute set plowing through their classic, seminal LA punk full-length GI, with sheer ferocity and searing, precises noise. I don't want to come off as sacrilegious here, but the Germs sound better now than they eve did in the past. When all was said and done Lorna Doom even made a comment to the affect that this one-off, warehouse fluke was their best show since the '70s.
To put it simply, it was amazing and everyone in the room felt it as well.
As they tore through "Lexicon Devil," "We Must Bleed" and "Manimal," depth and sharpness weaved through it all. Seeing these songs played live adds a new dimension to the static content of the record -- last night they came alive. They played everything I wanted to hear, and they even dedicated "What We Do is Secret" to B Jay, which was an unexpected and unprovoked shout out.
Maybe it was the dingy, DIY warehouse scene that evoked the spirit of punk rock circa '78. Maybe it was the sheer enthusiasm of the kids in the room freaking out to songs that many of us never imagined we would see played live, and with such intensity, making plain exactly what it was that made the Germs such a force of nature over three decades ago. Whatever it was, it was exactly what I needed.
(Photo by Adam Anzio)
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