By snoadmin
Glassjaw is one of those bands that has achieved near-mythic status despite having a not-so-prolific discography. Not only did the Long Island, NY-based post-hardcore outfit pave the way for countless screamo bands with its abrasive sound, but its shows became the stuff of legend thanks to lead singer Daryl Palumbo, who consistently put on intense-to-the-point-of-insanity performances despite suffering from Crohn’s disease.
In recent years, however, the mighty Jaw has been slowed by countless shows canceled due to Palumbo’s health (his maniacal performing style would sometimes trigger potentially fatal attacks), the departure of key band members (including guitarist Todd Weinstock, who left to form the dance-rock group Men, Women & Children) and Palumbo’s preoccupation with his pop-oriented side project Head Automatica.
So when news broke that Glassjaw would be playing in Southern California for the first time since the 2003 Vans Warped Tour with a trio of dates, fans were ecstatic yet understandably worried that the scheduled shows would suffer the all-too-familiar fate of cancellation.
Fortunately, Palumbo and company made dreams come true with skull-pounding sets in Hollywood and San Diego, and their awe-inspiring display of viciousness in Pomona on Oct. 30 perfectly capped off a string of shows that nobody thought would happen anytime soon (or ever, for that matter).
As the sold-out crowd packed into the Glass House to see their long-absent heroes in the flesh, the tension thickened as the minutes ticked ever closer to Glassjaw’s grand return (as with the Hollywood and San Diego shows, there were no opening bands). As if to keep the crowd in agony with suspense, drummer Durijah Lang played a steady, almost hypnotic beat for a few minutes as the other band members walked on stage one-by-one.
Finally, Palumbo took the stage (which was decorated with a green-tinted Cuban flag, as if to signify that Glassjaw was a group of revolutionaries looking to sonically spread the good word once again) and stood quietly in front of the microphone stand for a couple more minutes before exploding into a blood-curdling scream as the band began playing “(You Think You’re) John Fucking Lennon,” one of three new songs the quartet hammered out that evening.
Although the crowd certainly lit up the second Glassjaw arrived, the catharsis of craziness that only four years of agonizing anticipation can breed did not erupt in the audience until the second song, “Tip Your Bartender,” a quintessential Glassjaw track complete with guitars that pound you to a pulp with steady intensity rather than speed.
Over the course of the evening, Glassjaw played a generous 17-song set dominated by tracks from its two LPs, 2000’s “Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Silence” and 2002’s “Worship and Tribute.” While guitarist Justin Beck made sure that the fans in attendance got a heavy dose of ass-kicking by means of guitar, Palumbo immediately got to the task of blowing everybody away.
As the band wailed away on songs like the not-at-all-indicative-of-its-title-unless-you’re-talking-about-the jagged-thorns “Pink Roses,” the sonic-equivalent-of-being-bludgeoned-with-an-ice-pick-over-and-over “Siberian Kiss” and the blast-from-the-past “Star Above My Bed” (which was featured on the band’s 1997 debut EP “Kiss Kiss Bang Bang”), the wire-framed Palumbo seemed to feed off the crowd’s energy as he stumbled around stage and waved his arms around with frightening intensity.
Palumbo also took plenty of opportunities to showcase the range of his off-kilter-yet-strangely soulful vocals, especially on “The Gillette Cavalcade of Sports,” which features a passage in which he pretends to be a fast-talking sports announcer (yes, a sports announcer). By effortlessly transitioning from startling screams to overdramatic-but-in-an-interesting-way singing, Palumbo easily proved his supremacy over all the Hot Topic pretenders out there.
Throughout the show, the rest of the band provided a perfect contrast to Palumbo’s explosive stage presence by calmly playing their instruments with great precision even though they haven’t gotten the chance to frequently show their skills in a live setting in recent years. Beck even got the chance to shine by doing some axe-shredding on a number of songs.
By the end of the evening, many fans who had never seen Glassjaw live could die in peace knowing that Palumbo and crew are as mind-blowing as legend would have them believe. Indeed, when Palumbo convincingly sang “Who could ever, who the fuck could ever, take the place of me?” in the chorus of “Motel of the White Locust” near the end of the show, the answer was obvious: Nobody can.
