The hairspray clogged corpse of LA glam was one that no one was expecting to walk again, but true to their word Murderdolls have reanimated it with a Misfits spin for a new generation of potential poseurs . . . What comes around goes around, as I believe Tuff once commented.
The pre-show chants of "Joey" say a lot about why this band has gained so much support so quickly; I'd hazard a guess that nine out of ten people here tonight own at least one Slipknot album. Well, while Stone Sour don't veer too far from the Slipknot template, Murderdolls are an entirely different proposition . . . Enter Mr Motherfucker: Murderdolls hit the stage with a non-album track which is a blast of messy punk, complete with unintelligible snarling from Wednesday 13. The unorthodox opener doesn't phase the crowd though - at least half of the University hall is flailing bodies, and things are about to get worse . . .
Let's Go To War segues into Love At First Fright - an ode to The Exorcist's pea soup puking Regan MacNeil - before Twist My Sister and Die My Bride follow. A shoe flies onto the stage from the crush below . . . "Someone's lost a foot" quips Wednesday.
I'm still not sure whether Murderdolls are actually important or just an entertaining diversion. For someone who's seen Kiss, Mötley Crüe et al, it's easy to write them off as a pale imitation of the bands that inspired them. If the only bands you've ever seen live have been a succession of post-grunge navel-gazers, Murderdolls may well be a revelation. Sometimes it's best not to analyse and just enjoy.