last night at the black cat, tommy and i went through something that, at the time, i thought was a trial sent down by god in order to determine if we should, like, be allowed to keep on living, or perhaps merely to see if we were the dedicated indie music fans that we often profess to be. you see, we had headed out to the club to catch exit clov, a much buzzed about local group that we were both interested in, me because from what i'd heard of their mp3s, they have great harmonies, airy vocals and interesting melodies; for tommy, because they are fronted by hot female asian twins. but now i realize it was not a trial or a test or a way for god to laugh mightily at our pain: it was something we were meant to go through so that we could WARN THE REST OF THE WORLD ABOUT AN UNHOLY TERRIBLE FREAKSHOW THAT COULD RUIN YOUR LIFE. through the power of our blog, i think.

there were two opening acts that night for exit clov: some group unfortunately named rude staircase, who we missed, and a duo called human marvels. luckily for us, after drinking a beer in the red room, we made it upstairs in time to catch human marvels. joy of joys. now, you may have heard of this group, if only because they have the fame and fortune of being the only people to ever perform at the black cat AND be on "ripley's believe it or not." this is because, simply put, they are tattooed freaks. katzen, the female bass player, is a woman who a) has tiger tattoo stripes all over her body and face b) has whiskers implanted on her upper lip and c) scares the living daylights out of me. enigma, the guitar/vocalist dude, has horns implanted under his forehead skin and is completely covered, head to face to stomach to toe, in a blue jigsaw puzzle tattoo.

The Enigma and Katzen with the Smothers Brothers. For some reason. Photo stolen from humanmarvels.com

apparently, in addition to being famous for their body tattoos, katzen and enigma also have the burning souls and poetic desires of "musicians." i put "musicians" in quotes because they played "music", and i put "music" in quotes because i really mean "honking terrible shit that made my brain melt into liquid and then set itself on fire." their songs were mostly composed of awful laptop drum beats that blared incessantly while katzen wiggled around playing guttural, unchanging bass and enigma abused his guitar until it cried tears of blood and begged him to just destroy it already.

i wondered about 2300 times during their show how exactly human marvels got paired with some normal indie pop group like exit clov; it must have been set up by black cat management, who were obviously on mind-addling drugs when they did it. but nevermind, i said to myself, this whole experience could at least be interesting, because in addition to playing "music", human marvels are also supposed to have sort of a sideshow aspect to their performance. apparently they used to travel around with an official freakshow carnival act of sorts, swallowing swords and doing freaky things to their bodies for voyeurs to drool over, and they've incorporated this into their "musical" performances. fine, i thought. let them do their little dance. it could be fun to watch, and for the love of god, maybe they'll set themselves on fire accidentally and put a stop to the show.

if only i'd been so lucky. one, they didn't set fire to themselves during the show, running off stage in a twisted mass of burning flesh while i laughed hysterically and rejoiced in the whole spectacle. two, i don't know how one can make using a toolsaw to create a shower of sparks from your bass, drilling nails up your nose, and swallowing vats of windex through a seven foot tube that's inserted into your stomach TOTALLY AND UTTERLY BORING, but human marvels managed to do it. by the time katzen was shoving a thick, seven-inch needle through her hand near the end of the show, i was yawning and thinking, just, like, for the love of the BABY JESUS do something original that doesn't result in me simultaneously wanting to kill myself AND fall asleep into a deep, deep dreamland where people aren't allowed to get on stage and charge money because they have tattoos and can sniff a condom up their nose. BORING. give me two hours and a bottle of red wine and *i* could do that, jackass.

so anyway, when i woke up today, i surfed around the internet for people who also hated human marvels and would validate my total hatred of the experience and we could all rejoice in being hate-y, hate-y people. but you know what? PEOPLE LOVE THEM. for example, i found an article from the austin chronicle that reviews human marvels' cd; it says, "The lead cut, "Human Marvels Theme," is steeped in carny lore, a marvel of musical composition that recalls the gentle lilts of Nino Rota and twisted turns of Kurt Weill. The lush, Eighties-tinged pop balladry of instrumental "Paper Hearts" could easily score one of those poignant Cirque du Soleil pieces about a sad clown, while "Iron" melds the ominous basso profundo of Cramps-era stomp with some creepy Angelo Badalamenti."

WHAT? the woman sounds like she's reviewing a CD that was put together by god, the dalai lama and thom yorke instead of the utter piece of crap that it is. to her credit, she gets slightly more critical later on, but not much more so. the worst she says is that the band can get "mired in gothic gloom."

that is not nearly enough of a warning to the poor souls out there that might be tempted to go see this unholy act of utterly mundane sideshow tricks and ear-bleeding music. so that is why i allowed myself to indulge in one of my favorite activities - hating - and wrote the above missive. it's all for you. please, don't ever go see human marvels. save your eardrums, your eyes and your sense of dignity for something more worthwhile. like, say, celine dion. do it for me; do it for humanity; do it for the simple fact that people who have absolutely no talent except the ability to permanently disfigure their bodies should never, ever be encouraged. trust me. the world will be a better place for it.