One deadly plague!

The Locust noisily swarm the WECC

Will O'Donnell, staff

I start this article with a confession: I showed up late to this show. Doing so can often be inconsequential at most shows, but in the case of a punk revue with a curfew (because of the “all ages” marking) meant that I showed up just in time for the headliner, having missed the three opening groups.

At my arrival, I embarrassingly shuffled past said opening band’s merchandise tables, where many of the musicians sat, and hid myself along the western wall of the West End Cultural Centre, where I could watch the members of the Locust buzz about their equipment, like the proverbial insects that they are.

The Locust musicians prepared themselves and performed their show in matching costumes that made them look like a gang of villains from a Hanna-Barbera cartoon, as if they were about to eliminate Blue Falcon and Dynomutt with some evil ploy, before challenging the Archies in a battle of the bands. Even their soundman donned the outfit, complete with a cape to signify some sort of leadership status perhaps, and a female counterpart who sold merch and acted as their personal onstage photographer also wore an outfit (I’ll admit . . . the high heels made for a nice touch to the costume . . . but now I’ve said too much).

With a ’60s-inspired, vision-of-the-future backdrop setting the scene, these costumed four laid out many a sci-fi sound effect between spastic blasts of thrashing noise with both blinding intricacy of music theory and screaming energy that exploded onto their instruments. Each player, at times, seemed to be doing things that would normally require five arms to accomplish. This high level of playing is something that made me wish I could hear all of what they were playing, for it was often melded into a “bass-y” grind. It is refreshing, however, to see a “punk” outfit doing something differently fun, as well as committing to complicated, precise playing.

Static in their stations, each member lined up next to the other in a row and often stood silently glaring at the crowd, only giving minimal responses to the occasional drunken comment made from the crowd. Their miens seemed to project seriousness, despite their overt ridiculousness.

As already evidenced by my missing of three bands, this whole show was brief. The Locust’s equipment setup seemed longer than the show. This is true to the “punk” form and could be a saving grace because one can only endure the musical assault of the Locust for so long, before bad (or just weird) things start to happen.

Speaking of assault (and avoiding the real-life one that deplorably occurred outside the venue during the show), I avoided the after-party because having Jagermeister as a sponsor is something I’m familiar with for rock concerts, and if the Locust’s attitude toward partying and drinking is anything like its music, it would probably be too much for me to handle this night. Makes for a story sure, but I would sooner tell of madness in my ears than madness in a bar. Enough said. Check out the Locust’s website for something different.