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Music

If this is selling out, I'm buying: Dwarves@Lambi

Posted by John / May 10, 2007

20070510_DwarvesSmoke.jpgMP alumnus Sara Falconer reports on the Dwarves' May 8 show:

Would it be weird to say that the Dwarves sometimes remind me of Pulp? Sure, if Blag the Ripper and Jarvis Cocker are left alone in a room together, one of them is coming out a limbless torso. But still. There's something about that "Ooooh, aren't I bitter, I fucked your girlfriend and she finally had an orgasm" shtick that makes me think that deep down, they're kindred spirits.

The last time I saw Dwarves, they were still going through that whole 15-minute-sets, no-hits, fans-can-go-to-hell thing. Ugh. The thing about the Dwarves is, since they formed in San Francisco in the late 80s, they've been trying to make us hate them. But you just can't turn your back on anything that rocks so much.

Still, that era kind of sucked. So I steeled myself to be disappointed last night. I even prepared a lot of clever, blasé comparisons to Brit pop bands.

20070510_dwarves.jpgBut from the moment He Who Cannot Be Named came trotting onto stage, wang dangling in the breeze, until sweating fans poured out of Lambi, sputtering and blinded by an errant fire extinguisher, Dwarves SLAYED. All killer, no filler: Everybody's Girl, Back Seat of My Car, Over You, Better Be Women, We Must Have Blood… I knew they'd come crawling back to me when they got tired of having artistic principles.

They were heavy, they were catchy, they were charismatic as all hell and they had the drunk punks losing their shit. To paraphrase Neill Cumpston's life-changing Grindhouse review, Dwarves are a band that's made of screaming car crash zombie boobs.


Photos by MP's Dave Hill.

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