Gallagher and Metallagher make for an unholy union at Station 4
|Photos by Steve Cohen|
Inside Station 4, the front of the show room had been blocked off for those who paid $20 for good seats, with a barricade keeping the standing crowd out. It was by the barricade that I first saw the man himself: no suspenders, no hat, no striped sweater, just a guy with graying long hair working the room in a pre-show meet and greet he'd done a thousand times before. After a few dozen photos he strode directly on stage, no costume change, and immediately launched into a set that somehow managed to be offensive, bitter, rambling, anachronistic, and self-parodying all at once.
Gays. Lesbians. Arabs. "China-people." Gang members. Celebrity "whores." Just a few targets of Gallagher's uniquely self-centered conservative view of social order. The crowd, an uncomfortable mix of dedicated fans, irony-seekers, punks, and metalheads, had an equally mixed reaction. There were plenty of people in hysterics and even a few cheering and clapping like they were at a Michelle Bachmann rally. Elsewhere, some folks weren't so impressed: boos, groans, and, at one point, a patron said, frustrated, "It's not fair that this guy outlived George Carlin."