Graham Reid | | 1 min read
This is just here for those of us old enough -- and perhaps dumb enough -- to remember the sheer visceral power and life-threatening live shows that this band (from Palmerston North? I will stand corrected) delivered.
They were in . . . yoooooooour face.
I have a few blurry and rather damaged memories of Flesh D-Vice . . . one of them most certainly involves a jug (for overseas readers that is an enormously large and heavy beer glass the size of a coal-miners forearm) being thrown at my head by a very formidable skinhead of my acquaintance.
I second-guessed -- as I ducked -- that he thought I shouldn't have been there because . . . my long hair didn't fit??
Still and all, I just kept going back because I loved this stuff for its gut'n'head punch, volume and uncompromisingly aggressive attitude.
And I do ask . . . did the Plague (the seriously annoyed Nineties skinhead one, not that art-school project which involved Don McGlashan/Andrew Snoid/Richard von Sturmer) ever record?
Love to know.
I think it was one of them, the singer I'd spent "quality time" with, who lobbed the jug at me . . . and I'd been a (long-haired) fan who'd been at their scorched-earth shows ---- and wrote about them favorably in the most mainstream newspaper in the country, the "Royal New Zrea;and Herald" as we called it then.
No gratitude, some people.
This is from the album Celebrate The Sonic Arts on Imma Hitt Records (1989)
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