The eagerly anticipated return of Wednesday 13 to perform a full set of Murderdolls songs was a night of eccentric hard rock, devilish glam Metal, fuck umbrellas and the tonguing of instruments. The horror punk icon put on a show of monstrously epic proportions.
Wednesday 13 Performing Murderdolls
Electric Ballroom, Camden – 9 November 2024
Words: Lucy Dunnet
Photography: Manuela Langotsch
“Scum, filth, anger and greed,” demonic laughter and faces dripping with black horror makeup took over the Electric Ballroom. Wednesday 13 and his current band, featuring former Murderdolls alumni Roman Surman and Jack Tankersley, quickly established that despite the epic performances of South Of Salem and Hardcore Superstar, we had come together for one reason and one reason only: to celebrate 22 years of Murderdolls with our favourite horror punk icon. 
After some sadistic stares and what the fuck is he doing with that mic stand moments, Wednesday 13 began the show with an emotional shoutout to late Murderdolls band members Joey Jordison and Ben Graves.
Tonight’s show was for them and the screams from the crowd were deafening. He also reminisced about how he was originally invited to be the bass player for The Rejects, said with a hint of respectful scorn, and came out the lead singer of Murderdolls.
With the nostalgic scene of excitement set, Wednesday 13 began the Murderdolls celebration with Chapel Of Blood, which quickly became the chapel of blood, sweat and tears. Fans were ecstatic with emotion and high on the energy that was pulsating through the crowd.
Already warm as a pit from hell, the floor opened up immediately and would remain that way for hours. The ominous riffs of Death Valley Superstars gave way to the first bellows of Wednesday 13’s favourite word, fuck, in the lyrics: “You don’t need luck when you don’t give a fuck.”
If the crowd’s enthusiasm was anything to go by, it is a favourite word of many.
The aggressive, lyrically limited 197666 was an exciting eruption of drums and high-pitched guitar riffs that demanded two minutes of non-stop energy. Spine-tingling shivers shot through the crowd as Eine Kleine Nachtmusik by Mozart came on, signalling the next track, Slit My Wrist.
The tongue-in-cheek brutality of this track has to be appreciated when you are surrounded by spike-covered screams of “K-I-L-L-I-N-G.” The fine line between love and hate (murder) was crossed as Wednesday 13 followed on with Love At First Fright, the ideal theme tune for a first date – if you want your date to be a ghoul or vomit a beautiful pea soup green.
Wednesday 13’s chilling scream started off Motherfucker I Don’t Care, inciting extreme energy from the crowd, who could not get enough joining the frontman with screams of “motherfucker.”
The guitar in the intro to My Dark Place Alone has the kind of riffs that promise a risk of injury, ripped straight out of a thrasher movie, but so bloody worth it. Blood Stained Valentine and Pieces Of You are catchy, subverted love songs; crowd bonding occurred as we discussed Murderdolls and Wednesday 13’s ability to make the macabre sound like a sexy love note.
Grave Robbing U.S.A is another crowd-pleaser with a punk-heavy intro that fueled the mosh pit with undead force. This was a force which continued into the first wedding song of the night, Die My Bride.
Before the crowd’s vitality, stemming from songs about death carried on, we were treated to a quick anecdote: the band were told if they changed the lyrics to this next song, it might become a radio hit. Surprise, surprise, they did not change the lyrics, and while it may not have become a radio hit, it certainly was a hit for Murderdolls fans. Fists pumping in the air, Summertime Suicide could be heard from all corners of the room.
We had reached the point in the night where sweat was pouring from all orifices, vocal cords were feeling scratchy, and hearts could be heard pounding from the pit. The sultry vocals and muted guitar of Welcome To The Strange was a most welcome pause for band gazing and catching one’s breath. 
When Wednesday 13 shouts, “Sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll is all I got” there is only one appropriate response: HELL YEAH. Rock N Roll Is All I Got turned the crowd into slightly crazed hooligans. With everyone rather wet at this point, it felt like being whirled around in a washing machine with beer and sweat acting as the detergent.
The blasting of Murderdolls anthems turned this experience from a disgusting one into a desirable one. Before the band exited the stage, they teased us with guitar-led ballad Nowhere.
Hands in the air, Wednesday 13 slowly raised one finger after another to announce that they would be playing not one, not two, but three encores. As soon as the iconic White Wedding riff broke into our ear canals, the crowd began building into a frenzy. The bloodthirsty, unfettered energy in the pit could have fooled anyone that this really was “a nice day to start again.”
Encore number two started with a legendary chant: “Fuck” screamed Wednesday 13, “Fuck” screamed the crowd, and on and on until he popped open a middle fuck finger emblazoned umbrella and the drums kicked in. The only thing that made this track even more of a rager than the beastly bass work and groovy guitar riffs was the middle fingers dancing in the air that replaced horns and fists.
Dead In Hollywood brought the night to an end, with the jarring, shrill guitar riffs and ominous depths of the drum and bass leaving the crowd feeling utterly “D.E.A.D.”
Wednesday 13’s wicked stage presence, crowd interaction and rock ‘n’ roll energy were unmatched. It was the kind of show you feel ready to risk it all for, just for a chance to gaze into those fiendish eyes as he maniacally sticks his tongue out at you before adoringly saying, “Thank you for letting me live my dream.”
