Ever wonder what to do for Halloween? I don’t. I listen to music and go to shows. Occasionally I’ll dress up. Good thing I found an outlet for all of these extracurricular, all-hallowed activities–right in the vicinity of the Kalamazoo area. Like a damned miracle. Crawling into that inclusive concrete basement, pitifully preserving the tatters of my costume  torn-up by the zombified Misfits-guitar player, I expect to be thoroughly covered in fake-blood, real-sweat, and unidentifiable Halloween goo.

I want the music to be heavy in the air as the fleshy lips groaning it out.

Grimey as whatever demon-oozed concoction of booze and perspiration slime has covered the supports beams of the questionably stable house.

Maybe I want to be both things, too. But that’s another matter. A festive fistful of groups are incorporating all the corporeal functions of the holiday in both costume and music,  entertaining blissful escapism in the spirit of Halloween and gritty basement shenanigans.

Listen to the masquerading Misfits, and someone will tear out the Danzig face, then emblematically skull-bash the music right into auditory centers of the brain. Detroit’s Child Bite will be performing the procedure, with what can be assumed as a blood-gurgling tone that eventually curdles out of some heaving dark pit that got filled up with the bass-notes of Cage the Elephant or some other adequately psychosis/psychedelic fused induced rock-noise.

My description may not be perfect, so provided is actual music:

All for the continuing depravity and reckless behavior so attuned to show-going is Anybody But the Cops. The trio of instrumental-punk rockers are currently conquering the basement scene by blistering up a few 2 minute jams and skirting away before proper law-enforcement can nab them. One can only hope that eventually they will be stopped, before the lot of us are dragging ourselves through gardens of Miller 40ozs and fields poorly-costumed plaid to secure a fix of fuck-you induced fun.

I am trying to say they are addicting, fast, and out of control–and it might be fun to catch these shows while their sound is still developing.

But that is too easy. College interns should finish their upcoming DIT Session so viewers aren’t subjected to poorly lit rooms and questionable youtube videos to hear their music:

And if Rory Svekric wasn’t enough Rory Svekric for you, the Milhouser’s will be transmuting plasma sacrifices of party-goers to make a Rage Against the Machine reanimation for those too hip for underground music. Fuck you, don’t listen to what you tell me.

And who let Benji of Wearwolf, the Mushmen, and Lincoln Wars in on the show? Owes me shot of demon-rum for suggesting half of his musical genius. Surprises await, and with cohort Codi in tow, expect ultra-violence, or really anything because N0PARENTZ isn’t afraid of anyone, especially no parents. Or any musical explicative, because really the angst, sadistic humor, or plain insane zanity that is whatever Benji touches is sure to promote some sort of frothy, emotive response–ranging from raging to tearful.

Like the Reptillian? Bagheera is hoofing it to provide some “ex-tillian” entertainment. I can’t say much else. They’re new. Let’s be new together.

For those curious  the event is at Milhouse tonight, temporarily converted into a musical hall of horrors where all the ears can be mutilated, devoured, or otherwise horrifically effected. Only in the most pleasant of manners, though.

Donation, respectful, and starts at 9 p.m. Tonight. Halloween.

Dress up. Not as mandatory.