Local Band Plays Worst Gig Ever
Last night a local cover band by the name of The Composts played a gig at sushi restaurant, Drumroll. They were the penultimate act out of thirteen and were followed only by the night’s long-anticipated main act. Whether due to sushi-induced-food-comas, or the fact that it was close to 1 a.m., by the time the band hit the stage, attendees did not seem to be notably phased by what myself and the restaurant owners are dubbing the “worst band ever.” Thankfully, The Normal staff was there to take note of this atrocity to music and was approached by the owner afterward to help warn other local businesses before thinking of booking this group. In a private interview, the owner stated, “I ******* hate these guys. The universe should have stepped in at the first sign of whatever this [their music] is.”
The concert began hopefully, with a few covers from the popular alternative band, The Strokes. Unfortunately, what The Composts ended up doing with them was the musical equivalent of these poor songs being put out of their misery. My main critique was the density of reverb in each song that practically shook the whole restaurant and, seemingly, was the cause of the drummer having to halt their performance halfway through to throw up in the corner of the establishment. Five Arctic Monkeys classics were next on the chopping block.
Cover bands are, of course, expected to put some of their own flavor on the songs they cover, but their slowing down of this hit band’s classics was an unneeded snoozefest with each song lasting anywhere between 15 minutes, all the way to the fifth cover, which clocked in at almost two hours. Due to overheating issues thanks to the band’s long runtime, their amps started to malfunction after this portion of their set, with two of them even exploding by the end of the set. They persevere through, which would be admirable if I wasn’t in the process of sleep delirium alongside a deep, dark longing for the whole restaurant to go up in flames and stop this whole performance.
The Composts pushed through, though, to their 50-song-long Beatles tribute—26 of which were actually covers of Led Zeppelin songs that attendees were too food-drunk to notice. The band performed this part of their act entirely in fake British accents, which somehow made the lead singer’s grating vocal tone even more unbearable. By this point, my exhaustion was also so severe that it seemed as though even the instruments had accents and possessed an imagined twang at all the wrong moments.
Finally, the audience was relieved from this special circle of Hell by the band’s closer, which was actually an original song. The name of it seemed to be written in some semi-forgotten Rosetta-Stone-like language. The band prefaced to the audience that they imagined it translated to some variety of—and excuse us for having to censor so much of this—“I **** and *** **** **** until your ****** and father ***************** and then they ****************** until you and * kiss and then *******************************************.”
At the event’s close, it was hard to tell whether the applause was the result of enjoyment at the actual performance or the deep relief of it being over. Either way, it was apparently standing ovation worthy, and a few attendees were even seen crying as the band packed up to leave. Unfortunately, half of the band could be spotted passed out on the road before they were able to make it to their mother-inherited minivan to pack up and finally leave. It is estimated that only one-eighth of the people who left Drumroll were ever seen again.
Even with how horrible this whole experience was, funnily enough, the worst part of it all was the smell of the band who must have never taken a shower a day in their lives. This must be a trend for people who spend way too much time doing nothing because The Lamron’s editorial staff seems to share this general stinkiness, alongside the owner contacted for an interview. People in managerial positions just must become stinky as part of their job, as The Lamron’s staff writers are notably very clean.