Text and photos by SCOTT FEINBLATT

It’s the end of an era (or the end of several eras – if you wanna get technical). Industrial music pioneers Skinny Puppy, who first rose to underground prominence in the early ‘80s, disbanded in the mid-’90s and then re-formed in the early aughts have concluded the second leg of their 40th anniversary/final tour, dubbed, “When Nothing Is True…Anything Is Possible.” Assuming the band’s principal members (Nivek Ogre, cEvin Key and Mark Walk) do not collaborate in the future, the dates they performed in Southern California represent the last time the legendary group will ever be seen onstage.

For their final concert dates, Skinny Puppy was joined by openers Lead Into Gold, which is basically a solo project of Paul Barker (formerly of Ministry). For the live line-up, Barker performed bass and sang while Josh Holley manned the synths and drum machines. Lead Into Gold’s music resonates with a mid-’90s industrial vibe. It doesn’t have the teeth of Ministry, but it is good stuff. Half of the set consisted of songs from The Eternal Present, which dropped in April; The rest of the setlist was fleshed out with songs from the band’s previous releases. Lead Into Gold’s minimalist and compact stage set-up worked nicely for their act. The duo stood flanked by two screens that displayed static and video art. Overall, it was a very good set, and they did a great job of setting the mood.

As it was, I saw the show twice – once on November 30 at House of Blues in Anaheim and again on December 1 at The Belasco in downtown Los Angeles. The experiences were markedly different for several reasons. First, I had photo credentials for the House of Blues show. (Thus, I can share these pretty pictures with you lovely readers.) Secondly, my press credentials did not extend to the VIP seating area, and House of Blues, for all of its fame, is not a well-designed venue for rock concerts. If it’s hosting a lightly attended ballroom dancing event with an orchestra onstage, the place is a great fit. In all other circumstances, House of Sardines would be a better name for the joint. 

After I photographed each band for the first four songs of their set, I found breathing room at the back of the fully-packed venue where I had a great view of the back of some guy’s head, and I could hear the music in a somewhat muted fashion. The following night, at the beautiful and historic Belasco theater, I shelled out the big bucks and got a front row, first balcony tier table, and it was amazing. I could actually see the show, and the sound quality was incredible. Unfortunately, Lead into Gold’s Paul Barker lost his voice the second night. Despite apologizing, he seemed amused that the audience, who enjoyed the show thoroughly, neither noticed nor cared.

After a twenty-minute intermission, Skinny Puppy’s performance began. The show(s) opened with some nice brap or improvised, electric mayhem. During this, Ogre was led onstage (with his head covered by a large cloth) and placed in a white, tentlike structure. When the band began the first song, “VX Gas Attack,” Ogre was illuminated from behind, casting his shadow on the screen. For the first two songs, he remained behind the screen, which he and another figure used to create a series of shadow puppet shows, using their bodies and various shapes on sticks, including ghosts, demons, religious symbols and weapons.

For the third song, “Rodent,” the singer emerged from behind the screen. His shadow partner joined him onstage for the rest of the show, acting in the dual capacities of performer and stagehand. Additional theatrical roles included a scientist who wandered about the stage throughout the show, tweaking electronic components, observing the proceedings and noting his observations on a clipboard. 

Now for an analytical interlude.

Ogre’s lyrics and stage theatrics have always been pretty heady stuff, so it behooves this writer to at least take a stab at examining some of the onstage imagery. As I’ve mentioned, Ogre was initially escorted onstage with his head covered. For “Rodent,” he continued to wear the obscuring cloth over his head, but it was evident he was wearing a grey alien mask underneath. Meanwhile, his onstage counterpart, whose face was also obscured, wore a large set of horns. So, the principal onstage symbols were those of an alien and a devil – both initially obscured by the shadow box and the cloth covering. These are groovy, creepy images to be sure, but symbolically, they depict powerful archetypal concepts.

First, shadows and shadow puppets traditionally represent many things. Shadows are darkness, plain and simple. Tonally, this is already a great theatrical element for a band launched by two guys who love horror films. According to Jungian psychology, the shadow represents unconscious aspects of the human psyche that trail the pursuits of the ego-self. Primal in nature and not inherently evil, they can manifest as such when not recognized, addressed and reconciled with our conscious actions. In this way, Ogre’s shadow puppet display of images such as a bomb and a snowflake (likely representing nuclear winter) were showcased during either “VX Gas Attack” or the second song, “I’mmortal.”

Thematically, the Jungian reading works well for either song. In the instance of “VX Gas Attack,”  a song that centers on Iraq’s use of chemical weapons against Iran, the shadow aspect of humanity is manifested as the atrocities perpetrated by people or nations in the pursuit of their own enrichment. In the case of “I’mmortal,” the lyrics specifically reference a shadow. Although the exact meaning of the verse is a bit elusive for me – like trying to catch a shadow (ha!) – I believe the song’s theme is that people tend to project their visions and interpretations of reality to form an attractive worldview. However, these images and concepts are illusory and represent diversions that people manufacture to avoid facing the imperfect aspects of their realities. In the interest of (relative) brevity, I’ll forgo further historical references to the ancient art of shadow puppetry. Suffice it to say this art connects to people on a primal level, and there is much more to be unpacked.

Moving on to the alien and the devil. Once again, these are symbols that are typically used to manifest both internal and external threats in a way that makes them psychologically safe to consider. Rather than deal with some of the more frightening aspects of ourselves or our traumatic experiences, we fragment our memories and other thought processes and relegate the scary bits to tangible symbols and outside entities for easier digestion. (Don’t worry, dear reader. I’m almost done with this part.) In any event, as dark, rocking and dancy as Skinny Puppy’s music is, Ogre’s lyrics have always addressed the scariest aspects and actions of humanity, and his use of theatrical horror imagery – including the use of literal masks to depict archetypal/psychological masks – has always been a sublime way of showcasing his lyrics. Moreover, this level of artistry is extremely rare in the realm of shock rock. In contrast, you can see Rob Zombie performing in a stadium with 20-foot cartoonish devil puppets lumbering around the stage and large screens with goth girls shaking their boobs. Nonetheless, you will not find a hybrid of horror-themed stagecraft with meaningful commentary of this level anywhere else.

Sorry kids, I didn’t mean to get so deep on you. For the rest of the show, I’ll just do a cursory overview. Ogre soon dropped the cloth and revealed his alien mask, which had eyes that glowed different colors. At one point, the devil character tied him to a chair and beat him with a stick. The full head mask was fractured at one point, allowing Ogre to reach into his alien cranium and pull out handful after handful of slime. In the simplest sense, it was a fun, messy show.

As for the music, cEvin Key performed all of his usual electronic mayhem (synths, samplers, sequencers and who knows what else) while obscured behind his cagelike wall of equipment. Meanwhile, Matthew Setzer stalked the stage with his guitar, Justin Bennett played drums and Toby Tackett was the scientist. In any case, a review of their final tour would not be complete without an aside to mention the uniqueness of Skinny Puppy’s music. 

While the setlist was comprised of songs from throughout the band’s career, with an emphasis on their 20th-century work, the periodic moments of brap spotlighted the power that still exists, quite potently, within Puppy’s unique sonic brew. Through their combination of instrumentation, musicality and theatricality, Key and Ogre have always cooked up enchanting ear candy. This goes for both their studio work and their live, improvisational moments.

Naturally, Skinny Puppy’s albums chronicle a stylistic evolution from some comparatively minimalistic songs utilizing delayed synths and various (usually horror) film samples (as in the case of “Film,” the concert’s first encore) to the brilliant, otherworldly albums Too Dark Park and Last Rights wherein the distinction between instruments and samples becomes so blurred that the soundscapes assume monstrous lives of their own. Presumably, this evolution was heavily influenced by Dwayne Goettel, a core member of the band from 1986 to 1995 (after contributing member Bill Leeb had left to form Front Line Assembly). For The Process and the post-Goettel albums that included Mark Walk, the music evolved further and notably became heavily infused with (for lack of a better descriptor) a cyberpunk quality.

As for the live stuff, two recordings typify Skinny Puppy for me: The first is an appearance that Ogre, Key and Goettel made on CBC Radio’s Brave New Waves in 1986. The trio performed a handful of songs from their first couple of albums. Even though their core compositions were created from sequenced drum patterns, samples, sets of lyrics and distinctly arranged melodies, these artists breathed so much life into the performance that it was not only highly distinguishable from the album versions of the songs but the energy and rhythms ebbed and flowed from song to song to the extent that a unique, musical entity manifested, defying all structural boundaries, forming flawless transitions between them. This, of course, included the improvisations of all three performers. 

The second live recording that comes to mind is from the CD single “Spasmolytic,” which features Jim Cummins’s ethereal and horrifying cover artwork. Cummins (aka I, Braineater) also painted the beautifully unnerving covers of Too Dark Park and Last Rights. Track number four of this release, “Walking on Ice,” features a cross-section of improvisational moments, presumably from the Too Dark Park tour. The segments were mixed live by Dave “Rave” Ogilvie, the proverbial “fifth Beatle” of Skinny Puppy’s mid to late early years. Once again, this recording showcases the potency of the band’s improvisational skills. Essentially, it took the energy from the Brave New Waves show to a level so amplified in its theatricality, scariness and improvisation that it is easily a sonic experience with no equal. 

In the final shows, it was at once wonderful and heartbreaking to hear traces of those moments – both through the inclusion of nods to years gone past, as in an excerpt from the mind-blowing “Download” – as well as in the band’s trademark juxtaposition of eerily beautiful synths with film samples and harsh and chaotic sounds.

Personal faves among the setlist included “Tormentor,” “Hardset Head,” “Morpheus Laughing,” “The Choke,” “Warlock,” “Inquisition,” “Dig It,” “Smothered Hope,” “Assimilate” and “Candle.” However, most of those were faves because of nostalgia. The whole show was fucking awesome. At the end, Ogre addressed the crowd and thanked us for the love, and Key and the rest of the band took a selfie with the audience.

There is certainly no shortage of concerts at which fans of industrial, goth, or similarly dark-themed music can congregate, but Skinny Puppy was a highly unique animal. Their storied history includes crossing paths and working with notable people from throughout the formative and expanded realms of the industrial genre, including Genesis P-Orridge, Al Jourgensen and Martin Atkins among others. Again, the depth of the vision and artistry that Ogre and Key unleashed on their listeners has no parallel in the history of music or theater. Their combined forces, including the artists who collaborated with them over the years, will live in recordings and memories, chronicling their artistic inspiration for others, reflections of the horrors of humanity, brilliant entertainment and some very dark and weird shit.

The dog is dead. Long live…?