Location: Channel Zero (Metelkova) / Ljubljana / Slovenia
Concert date: 01.02.2008
Attendance: 30
Ticket price: 5,00€
Head over heels! First off, I have to thank Rok, who hustled me out to the Železobeton gig on 31.01.2008 (RockLine report HERE), a killer show by the way, because that’s the only reason I spotted a poster at “Channel 0” that day for a gig by the rock ‘n’ roll misfits from Prlekija, set for 02.02.2008, who are here so they can always take every last bit of blame on themselves. I’m talking about Dežurni krivci. It’s not that long since the wild home stretch of 2007 wrapped up, and their latest studio album “Strup” absolutely floored me. Even today’s softened-up QOTSA would kill for an album like that. Unbelievable. “I’ve got to see this, no question!”, I thought, and so I find myself, on that sinful Carnival Saturday, at Channel Zero at 22.20. Mistake. The place is lit up at this “early” hour, the band is fiddling with their gear on stage, while the Channel Zero “staff” and the Dežurni krivci “road crew” are busy cranking the handles of the foosball table. I go grab a burek on Miklošičeva. Maybe a beer too, nah, the burek will do, no need to overload the waistline. It’s finally almost 23.00. “The gig starts at midnight”, is the new info, and I’m already wondering how the hell I’m supposed to survive an hour in godforsaken Metelkova. The people, as many as I could make out, are hanging around and wandering through puddles, outside it’s raining sleet, the air is thick with that sourish smell that, at this time of year, belongs only to Ljubljana. Still, I didn’t suffer too much counting down the minutes, because the hour flew by in a friendly chat with the gig organizer’s crew (big thanks for the invite to Andreja).
Right, on to Dežurni krivci. Right at 00.00 the show kicks off. It’s opened by a lazy, wicked, stoned new song from the new record “Strup” (2007), Don’t Talk To Me! Never! The guys sway to the slow rhythm of a judgment-day clock ticking, the bass line howls and wails melodically, and they unfurl a creeping, godless groove in the intro, rummaging through the darkness that wraps the little hall of Channel Zero. A sample of people, a handful. What kind of masquerade is this? Where’s that old pulse? Nothing. Soon the boss joins the verses, the band’s singer and guitarist, Leon. You couldn’t wish for a better voice for this shot-through, slowed-down, stoned opening rock n’ roll. The essence of the band came alive in an instant. “Here’s the truth, take it if you want it”, a thought popped into my head, completely spontaneous, from what I was feeling in contact with the climacteric made right there. Next up is the title track of the current studio album, Strup. Leon is already screaming with total commitment: “Struuuup!!!!” An extreme leap into a more intensely colored rocker, one that doesn’t hide its Sabbath sympathies and rocky sharpness, built on massive riff-chopping. Marko Čuš, Igor Ketiš and Tomas Tibaut flaunt their lust with no brakes on, “top less” style, ready to adapt to the highest temperatures that might follow.
Of course, not this time. People were horrifyingly scarce. By mid-show about thirty had gathered, most of them lounging in corners, behind the bar and, of course, at the foosball table. The rest, who actually engaged with the band, kept a cautious distance by the pillars in the hall, which means a real void was gaping in front of the stage. Dežurni krivci had a blast anyway. What else is there to do in a situation like that? It’s also a sign of the integrity and solid backbone of this rock n’ rolll band, which proudly breathes and lives its own beat, with no submission, no needless worries, no pointless “what if” thinking, etc… Humble, yet devoted to the magic of rock. An endangered trait these days, when the philosophy of modern music marketing has wrecked everything that could be wrecked. In Ljubljana, at least, it all works that way. Devalued, deflowered long ago, Americanized, faded, empty, monotonous, desperate, worthless. Outside it’s still raining, and Dežurni krivci stick to their path and never, ever give in.
Dežurni krivci were presenting their new “poisonous” album “in bulk”. Excellent, rowdy-minded songs, yet saturated with singing about the deep wounds that pain leaves behind, rolled out one after another, new song after new song. Grem can be a real little school in “holding your ground” with those verses. Leon’s vocals worked without a shred of illusion, totally grounded, yet tuned to furious, arrogant, with a true expression of defiance. Fused into a phenomenal whole, the guys thundered on with new songs, Shut Up! (a faster “saw-off”), May Way, Kdo se boji črnega moža. In the order fast – slow. The massive riff lived with fierce realness especially in My Way, with an excellent shift of atmosphere between the melodic bass-line-led build in the pre-chorus and the riff detonations and shaking out of rage in the stoned chorus.
Despite the extremely convincing songs written in English, the ones that hit far closer to the bone were Kdo se boji črnega moža?, Senca (with Leon’s piercingly roaring revival of the verses in the chorus), or Leon’s madness in the song Moč v senci: “Nazaj, nazaj, nazaj,…. Zakaj, Zakaj, Za-kaj, Za-kaj,…”, which was especially hypnotic.
Dežurni krivci in slowed-down, rocky rhythms are, if anything, even more expressive. The peak, where goosebumps ran down my spine, came when they launched into the song Devil Demon. Even before that, Leon asked the crowd: “Are you a devil, or are you a demon?” and stopped with his finger and his gaze right on me. The melodic rattle of the bass guitar in an atmospherically stealthy, reined-in pre-chorus, with constant, superb communication with the drums, commanded by the work of the “crash” cymbals. Here Leon’s stoned, burnt-out vocals sprang to life again, followed by a harder-graded chorus assault on Channel Zero: “Utrjen sem, spizdi stran…” A song well worth studying as a potential “single” release from the album “Strup”. It doesn’t get more genuinely amateur than this! The regular set closed with Wanna Kill, a new hyperplasia of stoner rampage, minimalist verses, but all the more down to earth for it, seen of course through the prism of the Dežurni krivci stage manifesto.
The guys mixed a few rare gems from their earlier creative period into the setlist, like the songs Pekel, Živa noč, Shot. They cut the encore short, so Kriv and Metulji in rožice weren’t played, and they went for just the song Črf, whose rhythmic savvy finally got the small crowd in the hall to move their limbs and neck muscles more decisively.
We spent exactly an hour at Channel Zero when, out of a cataclysm-tinged finale, Leon, who by then was left on stage completely alone, woke from his trance and yelled: “Thanks. See you at the bar!”
A first-rate fist loaded with the authentic rock n’ roll energy of this quartet, which radiates the pulse of eastern Slovenia so untamed and so openly real, is the practical thing, the very essence of why you go to a gig. Dežurni krivci are a band cut from the right cloth, those rare surviving lone riders who know, can and are able. Stripped completely bare, like a child’s innocence and playfulness, in the unmistakable stamp of their own rock extravagance. Special in every bit of its essence. It doesn’t get more real than this!
text and photos: Aleš Podbrežnik
Setlist
1. Don’t Talk To Me! Never!
2. Strup
3. Pekel
4. Grem
5. Shut Up!
6. My Way
7. Kdo se boji črnega moža
8. Senca
9. Freedom Fries
10. Moč v senci
11. Živa noč
12. Shot
13. Devil Demon
14. Wanna Kill
—encore—
15. Črf
Photo gallery
