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In the digital age, it almost seems like any musician can achieve a pristine level of production and distribute their music via the internet with little more than the most basic of tools and even a miniscule amount of funds. However, what remains a vital component in any band's success is effective promotion, and while the internet has proven to be a useful tool in developing one's fanbase by offering bands and artists the potential to achieve global recognition far more easily than ever before, it is still no small task for even the most established recording artist to generate interest in his or her work. Thus, playing live shows stands as one of the last outlets for exposure that hasn't changed in the era of the iPod and MySpace. Certainly, there are aspects to performing live that have changed in terms of the nature of the industry - the transition from CDs to MP3s and other digital formats, as well as the relevancy of record labels - and the manner in which business is conducted among venues, promoters, record labels, and the artists, but one fact remains consistent: live shows still provide perhaps the best means for an artist to gain an audience and distribute his or her music to the masses. It can then be argued that the imperative for one to present to audiences a performance that is as memorable as it is innovative is even more critical than before. It seems as if one can no longer simply go on stage, ask the crowd if they are entertained, perform the songs, perform an encore or two, and then say, "Thank you, and good night!" without being called anything from hackneyed to downright boring. Oh sure, they may actually play well, but is that ever really enough without some sort of visual spectacle to accompany the music?
In the goth/electro/industrial scene, a community renowned as much for its visuals as it is for its music, few artists have earned so glowing a reputation for awe-inspiring and spectacular live shows as Nivek Ogre. Throughout his tenure as the vocalist for Skinny Puppy, and even extending into his various other appearances with such groups as Pigface, Ministry, and KMFDM, and finally with his "solo" band ohGr, Ogre's stage performances are the stuff of legend, descending into realms of theatricality so disturbingly alluring that he's become the archetype for an entire generation of artists striving to take their live shows past the precipice of convention. He is often imitated, but has never been effectively duplicated. He is no mere shock-rocker; his visuals are as intelligently devised as his lyrics, touching on the horrors of animal testing (VIVIsectVI) to the virtual realities created by one's own addictions (Too Dark Park and Last Rites). Now on tour for Devils in My Details, the latest ohGr album, Nivek Ogre takes us once again on a visceral and surreal journey of auditory torture and optical delusion.
Performing at the Rock & Roll Hotel in Washington, DC, ohGr played before a packed house that had obviously sold more tickets than the club's capacity should allow. This writer must admit feeling a great sense of amusement at the various patrons who, while waiting in line could only curtail their anticipation for the show by complaining about the bitter cold (indeed, it was well below 40 degrees on December 7th), could now find discomfort in the heat of the club's interior compounded by the lack of space. However, despite this, the diverse crowd was comprised of people from all walks of life, from longtime Skinny Puppy fans to metalheads who were attending out of curiosity or at the behest of their friends to the standard fare of modern club-goers and rivetheads, and they were all decidedly anxious to see the legend take to the stage to weave his demented webs of transcendental industrial intrigue.
Beginning the proceedings was American Memory Project, the multimedia project from ohGr live members William Morrison and Justin Bennett. Besides performing bass and guitars in the live show, Morrison has spent the last 16 years providing video and artwork for Skinny Puppy and ohGr, his distinguished visual style becoming a memorable staple of the 2004 tour for The Greater Wrong of the Right. For American Memory Project, he and Bennett performed conspicuously behind an immense projection screen, upon which the group's DVD was played; the band itself was barely visible in the barely lit corners of the stage just beyond the projections screen, thus emphasizing the power of the imagery augmented by the duo's complex constructions of intense sound design. The group describes itself as "a broadcast from the future," which is perhaps the simplest and best explanation for what the audience was being presented. This was not a series of simple animations to complement sound as one would imagine at an ordinary DJ gig; this was a conceptual experience of post-apocalyptic despair. Macabre animations that were at once technological and fantastical combined with what appeared to be documentary filmstrips from the late 19th to early 20th centuries as scathing electronic tweakery meshed with distorted passages from old phonograph records, creating the impression that what was being witnessed was not just a simple artistic performance, but was in fact a time capsule of a forgotten past from a future so distant and bleak that even the historical remnants that should be so familiar to us were all but unrecognizable. Strangely enough, this writer was reminded of the oft-used sample from John Carpenter's 1987 film, Prince of Darkness, in which within the characters' dreams they received a "transmission" from the future ("This is not a dream. We are transmitting from the year 1-9-9-9."). Perhaps an unusual comparison, but indeed, watching American Memory Project, one was given a similar feeling of receiving futuristic dreamlike signals. It should also be noted that within the video were title cards for each of the individual tracks, which would otherwise be indistinguishable from one another as the musical performance left little room for silent breaks in between. Given the past body of work Morrison and Bennett have released with their own respective projects and as live members of ohGr and Skinny Puppy, it was perhaps no surprise that the audience took to American Memory Project's presentation quite enthusiastically, filling what brief moments of silence were offered with cheers and applause, and it was easy to tell that it was neither forced nor simply out of courtesy - people seemed to genuinely enjoy American Memory Project's opening.
With only a brief respite after so hypnotic an opening act, the screen came down, the band took its place on stage, the video projections began, and the roar of the audience's cheers were almost deafening as ohGr began their set. Beginning with Bennett unleashing his thunderous drumming, the rest of the band took their places with their instruments, all armed with laptops to contribute to the noise-fest that was sure to ensue. Finally, after a tense and atmospheric buildup, Ogre came onstage concealed in a cloth-like cloak, only to be discarded immediately to reveal a grotesque mask that appeared to be an off-white human face with eyes like camera lenses. The face was heavily scarred with a texture not dissimilar to melting wax, immediately putting one in mind of Ogre's extensive makeup and mask-effects during the Last Rites tour of 1992. As he began to sing the first frantic lines of "Shhh," it took some time to realize that the mask was actually in reverse; Ogre was singing with his back turned to the audience, the menacing and monstrous visage echoing the intensity of his words. As the music moved seamlessly into the off-kilter rhythms of "Eyecandy," Ogre shed his coat, occasionally adjusting the lenses that were the mask's eyes, adding to the illusion of a secondary face. It soon became clear that the band would be performing the entirety of Devils in My Details, which is hardly surprising given the fluidity of the album as a conceptual piece that was composed from a single jam session. While it is not exactly uncommon to perform every song from an album, it speaks volumes about the nature of the live show as a promotional tool - after the show, dozens of audience members gathered around the merch table to purchase their copies of the Devils in My Details after hearing it performed from beginning to end. Just as the album reveals different sonic and conceptual layers throughout its progression, so too does Ogre himself shed his various guises with each track, revealing faces beneath faces like a Chinese puzzle box. By the third song, appropriately titled "Three," he finally turned to face the audience, allowing them to see another mask opposite the first one. Once that mask has been shed, and he begins the "You're killing me with bacon, America," chant from "Feelin' Chicken," substituting for Bill Moseley by apparently reading from a tattered text, he removes the headpiece to expose yet another mask, this time a clear plastic face mask. Finally, the last façade is revealed as Ogre's face is painted in a black and white design akin to Heath Ledger's Joker from The Dark Knight... or perhaps it was a variation of The Crow... who knows? By the time the final song of the album is played, titled "Witness," the audience was in a complete state of awe and adulation, cheering at any given moment and delighting in hearing the latest ohGr album live and as seamlessly as it was originally intended. The remainder of the show, including the encore - during which Ogre's makeup was finally worn away to leave him with little more than his own natural visage, albeit ashen grey - offered the more well known songs from the band's previous two albums, beginning with the aggressive melodic stomp of "Minus." To call the song a crowd-pleaser would be an understatement as the audience joined in the chorus loudly and proudly, although they could not ask for a better closer than "Cracker," complete with extended moments of improvised noise to bring the show to an exciting and satisfying conclusion.
After more than 20 years, Nivek Ogre still knows how to hold an audience in the palm of his hand, giving them an audio/visual extravaganza that is both absorbing and creative. Whether his outlet is ohGr, Skinny Puppy, or acting in Repo! The Genetic Opera, or saving animals one stray forest creature at a time, he continues to exemplify the word "artist," always providing his fans with a feast for the eyes, ears, and the soul, while pushing the boundaries of what can be accomplished personally, globally, and spiritually. His work remains as entertaining as it is enlightening as it is experimental, continuing to set an extraordinarily high standard for a new generation of artists to aspire to. Once again, the industry and the means by which business is conducted in the world of underground music may have changed, but when a musician or a group of musicians hone their craft and strive to achieve such a level of excellence from all fronts - musical, visual, promotional, etc. - that it is impossible to ignore or forget, there can only be the promise of a good experience. One need only look to ohGr for proof.
