Tonight, London witnessed Deathstars blitz and boom their way through an awesome set with warlike force, blowing away the Islington Academy and its nearly-sold-out audience. Industrial metal is the name of Deathstars’ game, and stomping guitar riffs and visual ecstasy dominated the evening. Whiplasher Bernadotte’s face sparkled with glitter and his pornographic tongue whipped with sexual innuendo; Cat Casino’s theatrical illusiveness was as haughty as his feline namesake; Skinny Disco discoed (and windmilled) his skinny ass into oblivion; Nightmare Industries put a capital H back into Horror by frightening the crowd into delirium; and Bone. W. Machine bashed away at his drums with bone-chilling vigour.
Ten years after conception Deathstars remain largely an underground force, however, the band’s misanthropic regard (or disregard) for society has inspired a mass of hard core fans. Tonight, these very fans arrive kitted out in Manson-esque glam gear, paying tribute to the look that has become Deathstars’ visual identity. There are always likely to be some ‘crazies’ in the crowd at metal gigs and this evening my favourite (or not so favourite) ‘crazy’ is a dude that I have labelled ‘Claw Boy’. Claw Boy spent an entire ninety minutes pointing at the stage with some kind of hook finger – just in case we 
weren’t sure where the band was - WTF? The concentration it took to figure out what Whiplasher Bernadotte was saying about Swedish Princesses and tongues was ruined by flashing images of ripping off ‘Claw Boy’s’ resting arm and using the bloody stump to beat his pointing claw finger out of my view. Luckily the band’s performance managed to mesmerise my plan out of memory.
Night Electric Night got the party started and preceded a setlist featuring the best loved songs from the band’s three albums. Songs including Motherzone, Semi-automatic, New Dead Nation, Tongues, Chertograd, Blitzkrieg, Blood Stained Blondes, Cyanide, Death Dies Hard, The Revolution Exodus sent the crowd into a frenzy of sparkling metalness that escalated as the evening progressed. Even the megalomaniacal attempts by the frontman to call the crowd to silence are disrupted by the occasional frenzied outburst of an excited fan. After two encores (what better ego boost than a double dose of name chanting) the evening is done, but the echoes of Whiplasher Bernadotte’s evocative baritone voice permeate the crowd’s thoughts as they exit the venue and long after.
fuck claw boy
p.s. WHAT? DEATHSTARS was playing at Islington Academy??! I thought I paid to watch Claw Boy claw his f*cking claw in my f*cking face all f*cking night.
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