The Queers – at Studio #158 – Review

The Queers

at Studio #158
by Duke Crevenator

It comes as little surprise to me that when I woke up at 2 PM today, my body was wracked with pain, my vision was blurred, and my ears were ringing at unsafe decibels. Yes, there was no doubt in what’s left of my mind that last night I traveled four hours to see The Queers.

Like after every Queers show, putting the fragmented, hazy memories together takes a while. In the beginning, I remember, we had four Queers die-hards in a car with a lot of nitrous, Black Label, and other specialty items. By the time New Hampshire became MA, and then MA became CT, we had three comatose Queers die-hards and one sober Queers die-hard who desperately wanted to find a bar.

In an effort to “wake up outta the Trance” (Ganksta NIP), we hit the Upper Deck in Storres. The ’50s motif was bad-ass, and their $5 pitchers helped get the ball rolling again.

When we reached Studio #158 in North Windham, no bands had gone on stage yet. The Queers’ equipment was there but, according to the doorman, they had “gone out to dinner.” Mad Dog realized the situation and asked directions to the nearest bar.

As we pulled into the parking lot of the Olympic Restaurant, who did we see but the Queers and the rest of the New Hampshire Queers Contingent. We quickly downed a pitcher and headed back to the club.

The first band, Sorry Excuse, lived up to their name. We returned to the nearby bar for more beer. Unfortunately, CT still has that foolish 8 PM curfew on beer, so we realized there was nothing left to do beside go back to the show. We caught the tail end of Forklift‘s set. It was the band’s last show and they pulled no punches. It was quite effective in lifting me from my depression (semi-sobriety) and preparing me for The Queers.

The Queers opened with “Junk Bomb,” and the first pit of the night was started by the traveling pitsters from NH. By the beginning of the second song, “Night of the Livid Queers,” the floor was in a frenzy that would last the rest of the night. With more than one person fleeing to the bathroom to puke their gut out, the Queers were going ‘Nam. Crazed punks jumped on stage bellowing “backing vocals” and, during “Rambo Rat,” a yam-eyed fan shared a couple of verses with singer Joe Queer. Songs were played from the bands long history. From classics like “Heroin” and “Kicked Out of the Webelos” to current hits like “You’re Tripping” and “Ursulua Finally has Tits.” The action seemed to last longer than a usual set, and when the strains of “Monster Zero” signaled the last song, the pit dug deep and burned off the last ounces of energy; bodies flew everywhere. The crowd leaving Studio #158 looked more drained than any I’ve seen in a long time. I have no doubts in saying the Queers are the best band in New England to see for some good old school punk rock.