Get in on the joke

GWAR has turned fake blood, alien monsters and heavy metal into something approaching a cultural institution.

Get in on the joke
The yuccies and Bohabs will be at the GWAR concert on Wednesday.

There will be people walking into Chelsea's Live on Wednesday night in the tidiest of white T-shirts.

They will leave looking like they've been murdered.

And they'll love every bloody minute of it.

Why it matters: That helps explain the seemingly inexplicable longevity of GWAR, the grotesquely costumed heavy metal act that has spent four decades cultivating a remarkably loyal following. The music matters. But the real attraction may be belonging to one of popular culture's longest-running inside jokes.

Meanwhile, in Antarctica: GWAR emerged from Richmond's underground art scene in the mid-1980s, when art students, filmmakers and punk musicians began combining homemade monster costumes, absurd mythology and music.

The premise: They're barbaric intergalactic warriors banished to Earth, frozen in Antarctica and eventually unleashed upon humanity.

Just go with it.

It's theater: You don't really hear GWAR. You see them.

  • A GWAR concert includes elaborate costumes, monsters, dismemberments, satire and copious quantities of fake blood and other fluids sprayed into the crowd.
  • The band's Bob Gorman offers this explanation for the spectacle: GWAR is really an art collective that discovered people would pay to see rock 'n' roll, even if they might not pay to see an art installation.

Meet the Bohabs: That's what GWAR's most devoted fans call themselves. And the audience isn't merely watching the joke. It's participating in it.

  • The legendary heavy metal shock-rock band brings its theatrical live spectacle to Chelsea's Live on Wednesday, Sept. 23. Doors open at 6:30 p.m. Ages 18 and up. $35 advance; $40 day of show. Tickets at chelseaslive.com.
  • Showing up, knowing the mythology and getting soaked are part of the ritual.
  • A filmmaker interviewed for a GWAR retrospective compared the experience to Rocky Horror: the ridiculousness isn't something fans overlook. It's precisely what they came for.

And generations keep joining them.

  • GWAR survived its brief brush with mainstream fame in the 1990s, changing musical fashions and even the death of co-founder and longtime frontman Dave Brockie in 2014. What remained was the community built around the spectacle.

The bottom line: Forty years later, GWAR's greatest trick may not be convincing people that alien barbarians play heavy metal.

It's making people want to be in on the joke.