Paris – Ah, Saturday night in Paris. What to do? Perhaps a late night stroll along the Champs Elysees, a visit to one of the city’s hottest nightspots, or a ridiculously rich and fattening meal accompanied by some pricey wine? No, instead I opted to spend this night crammed into some tiny little punk squat watching some grindcore bands. And so, after arming myself with a can of beer purchased at some dodgy shop that seemed to specialize in selling wigs and weaves (and was perhaps also an internet cafe … I’m unclear on this), I dove into the seedy underbelly of Parisian nightlife.
Up first was Idiots Parade from Slovakia. They put on a really solid, enjoyable set. Singer Petra has quite the set of lungs, her high pitched, guttural scream punctuating the short, fast bursts of noise from her bandmates. Grindcore is not a genre known for it’s lengthy musical numbers, as evidenced by the setlist for headliners Total F*cking Destruction – four sheets of paper taped together featuring I don’t know how many songs. TFD also put on a solid set with more of an old school hardcore punk influence to their sound than Idiots Parade, although I enjoyed their set less. This could have been due to being mosh pit adjacent for a bit too long as much as it was to the quality of their music though. That was one crazy moshpit, albeit one that could also stop cold at one point so one fellow could find his glasses. He found them, in case you were wondering. On a side note, as I perused TFD’s merch table between sets, I wondered to myself who would buy a shirt with this band’s moniker on it and more importantly, where would they wear it? I did see one guy in the crowd wearing one, but as he already had several neck tattoos, I guess he’s used to people looking at him disapprovingly. Also, I guess if you’re French, swear words in other languages on your shirt probably aren’t a big deal.
As TFD’s set came to a close, the crowd called out for more. “The only other songs we know are cover songs,” announced drummer Richard Hoak, and the band launched into a series of covers including The Misfits’ “We Bite” and The Ramones’ “I Wanna Be Sedated.” They closed things off with the old standby “Louie Louie,” though guitarist Dan O’Hare didn’t even make it through the entirety of that song, leaving the stage and wading his way through the sweaty, energized crowd. Rumour had it that the band was going to follow this up with a short unplugged set later on, but I felt that this was enough for one night and made my way back home, satisfied with my choice of entertainment for a Saturday night in Paris.