Costumed, comedy shock rockers GWAR, from Richmond, Va., have been slinging fake gore at audiences and performing absurd songs such as “You Are My Meat” for more than 20 years. Vegas Seven called the band’s frontman, Dave Brockie, a.k.a. Oderus Urungus (an intergalactic, horned humanoid barbarian), who refused to break character. Indeed, Brockie insisted on conversing as if he’s really the chief “chaos warrior intent on eradicating all life on Earth—even the tiny, helpless creatures.” GWAR’s most recent album is 2010’s Bloody Pit of Horror.
GWAR relishes in eviscerating celebrities such as Lady Gaga onstage. Any chance we’ll get to see you turn Rick Santorum into, well, santorum?
C’mon, those have to be joke names! Mitt, Newt, Santorum? Why can’t Republicans have normal names like Barack Obama? If Republicans think one of these turds will beat the big B.O., they’re mistaken. Believe it or not, having a black president has upped America’s reputation across the galaxy. Of course, GWAR doesn’t care about that. We’re going to eat you all anyway.
What about Ron Paul?
I felt sorry for him in Bruno when [Sacha Baron] Cohen tries to seduce him. Paul is an old man, and that was just mean. You know, sometimes I even begin to like Paul, but then I realize he’s just another pathetic, piece-of-shit human. So GWAR will eat him, too.
Is it hard playing human-infested venues such as the Hard Rock Café on the Strip?
We have ruined more backstage areas all over the world than any other scumdogs! We vomit on couches, so Lenny Kravitz has to sit in them afterward.
What does GWAR make of Vegas?
We love Vegas, and the whole country should be like you guys. Of course, I should inform you, GWAR is actually to blame for all those casino implosions over the years. Your media and government are keeping a secret: Implosions are really the hotel owners’ last-ditch effort to get GWAR out of their buildings. Only leveling the entire structure works!
Have you considered a Las Vegas residency?
I saw Criss Angel selling popcorn on TV, and I’m supposed to believe he’s a master magician? The world’s top illusionist shilling Orville Redenbacher? I may not be funny and don’t do magic and can’t sing—oh, wait, that’s my job—but to get a gig like Angel requires absolutely no talent. So why doesn’t the old guy in the bow tie ask GWAR to sell popcorn?
GWAR could be what Las Vegas needs at this point, right?
Actually, Vegas should introduce the haunted casino theme. Or even better, turn all those occupancy-challenged hotels into giant, haunted labyrinths, then let GWAR preside over them. We tried to get that idea going by spreading Legion Fever inside Luxor and CityCenter. You have GWAR to thank for that—along with war, disease, famine, cancer and TV home-shopping network channels that make it easier to buy Criss Angel-flavored popcorn by just dialing an 800 number with your credit card ready.
What can GWAR fans expect at the tour show this time around?