Viagra Boys’ Infinite Anxiety Tour at MTelus brought a sweaty fever dream of depravity. Lead vocalist Sebastian Murphy slithered onto the stage, shirtless and covered in trad tattoos, looking like he’d been marinated in cheap whiskey and questionable life choices. His greasy hair hung on top of his head, sad short curtains above a face that’s seen the bottom of many bottles, as well as jet-black shades hiding his eyes. The rest of the band; Linus Hillborg (guitar), Elias Jungqvist (keyboards), Henrik “Benke” Höckert (bass), Tor Sjödén (drums), and Oskar Carls (saxophone), all dove into the festering heavy indie rock intro of “Man Made of Meat,” and Murphy smiled menacingly before growling, “Alright, OK…”
BODEGA
The crowd was ready for Viagra Boys, properly prepared by the opening band, post/art punk New Yorkers, BODEGA, who began the night with an air of absurdism. Bodega’s music is satirical, a stab at the establishment with blistering punk anthems, and damn is it fun. Vocalist/percussionist/sample player, Nikki Belfiglio, is front and centre, slapping on her hi-hat and crooning along with vocalist/guitarist, Ben Hozie, about consumerism and the strangeness of online culture.
BODEGA
“We’re Bodega, not the AI band, Nodega, so if you see those guys, tell them to fuck off,” Belfiglio yells before launching into “Thrown.” BODEGA has tons of energy and has something to say with every song, but if you really boil it down, their songs, besides maybe the closer “Tarkovski,” are straightforward punk to get you moving. They were the perfect opener for the sleazy Viagra Boys.
BODEGA
The blast of Viagra Boys’ “Ain’t No Thief” hit like a backhand from your dealer, all grinding bass and saxophone that sounded like it was huffing paint fumes. Murphy’s voice – part lounge singer, part lizard– crawled over the crowd like a hangover you can’t shake. He moved like a broken marionette, all jerky spasms and hip thrusts, wilding his fabulous gut. Everyone in the pit was soaked in beer and bad decisions. The air was thick with cigarette smoke (most likely from Murphy’s own cigarette he used as a conductor’s baton), and desperation. Bodies pressed together in the sticky darkness, moving to the illegal rhythms.
Viagra Boys
“This song is about staying at home and not doing anything and just being a general piece of shit,” Murphy says before launching into “Waterboy,” from the latest album viagr aboys. Murphy’s stage banter was pure gutter philosophy—rambling about failed relationships, bad habits, and why healthcare can’t fix what’s really wrong with you—i.e. the “Pyramid of Health.” There was one moment of genuine activism as Murphy said we as a society are regressing back into a period of pure fascism. “We are living like it’s fuckin’ 1933 man, we have to stay together, and I will say Free Palestine!” Viagra Boys then launched into “Troglodyte,” about the keyboard warriors who sit at home trolling and right wing conspiracy theorists.
“Medicine For Horses,” was absolutely gorgeous, showing that Murphy has the chops to really sing with a sombre and tenor that can stop you in your tracks. Of course, the absurdism continued as Murphy collapsed on stage and began rambling about shrimps learning to play sports (this is Shrimpech, of course). “I’m sorry to get all emotional but that last song was really sad for me and this next one is too.” They launched into “Sports,” and Höckert’s saxophone went absolutely feral, squealing like a wounded animal in a back-alley deal gone wrong. The sound was so dirty you could practically feel it leaving stains on your soul. Murphy writhed against the mic, sweat pouring down his face in rivulets of pure sleaze. The encore consisted of another viagr aboys single “The Bog Body,” followed by “ADD,” and perhaps the slowest Viagra Boys song, “Worms.”
“At the end of the day, man, we’re all just worm food,” Murphy says, leaving the night on a sweaty, yet truthful statement.
