The Gig to End All Gigs!

On a rainy Monday night in 1986 (October the 6thto be exact), my friend Scott and I set out to see a punk singer we knew only from a few 7” singles. We had heard about his onstage antics, but despite the stories, nothing could have prepared us for the night of total debauchery that lay ahead.
NYCity’s THE CAT CLUB was the venue for GG ALLIN AND THE NY SUPERSCUM. GG had a special group this night made up of mainly local NY musicians, including Thurston Moore from Sonic Youth. While opening contemporary jazz band New Man took the stage (how they got on this gig I’ll never know), my friend John introduced us to the legendary GG ALLIN by the bar (of course, he’d become more legendary after this show which GG himself eventually claimed was his 2nd sickest of all time—the first being a near-death show outside of Minnesota). GG was cool and collected and even bought all of us beers. And then a DJ friend of our (from a local college station) dared GG to prove himself. She dared him to eat her maxi pad.
He did. In front of us. He folded the pad on the bloody spot and bit into it like a zombie sinking his teeth into someone’s skull. He washed it down with a swig of Heineken and said, “Anything else?”
Speechless, we went with GG to the front of the club as punk legends ARTLESS took the stage. Mykel Board and co. rocked the place hard, and the stage was set for GG.
We hung out with GG and Mykel backstage as GG ripped off his pants and got ready for the show in his trademark jockstrap, boots, and leather jacket. Who knows what he had sniffed (or shot) upon his frequent trips to the bathroom? Some unattractive (but thoroughly insane) green-haired punk chick came in the dressing room; GG looked at her and asked if he could suck her breasts. She agreed. He did so with tender loving care, and then headed for the stage.
I stood on the edge of the dance floor (The Cat Club was mainly a dance club with occasional punk, metal, and ska shows) as Mykel Board introduced GG. As soon as he did, GG turned around, pulled his jock aside, and let out a small but stinky dump. He wiped it across his chest then flung some into the crowd as the first song began. Some freakazoid with spiky green hair moshed around a chuck of crap that had landed in the center of the pit.
I stood behind Roger Miret of AGNOSTIC FRONT, who had a look of sheer amazement on his face throughout the entire gig. And who wouldn’t? Within his 3-song set (the club pulled the plug during his immortal classic, EAT MY DIAHRREAH), I watched GG:
-Kick some poor guy’s head that was dumb enough to sit on the side of the stage, cracking his glasses in two.
-Smash his nose open with the microphone until blood flew and mixed with the feces on his chest.
-Get his jockstrap ripped down by the backstage punk chick, who punched him in the balls with everything she had, sending GG to the ground. He stood up a few seconds later as if nothing happened.
I also watched GG run through the crowd a few times, several of us (Aggy Front’s vocalist included) cowering behind over-turned tables like we were about to die. The smell in the place reached a fever pitch. I remember holding my shirt over my nose a few times; how the band were able to play without throwing up is anyone’s guess.
It should be mentioned that many other things went down, from small fights with various audience members, to more self-flagellation and abuse. There was so much chaos going down I don’t think anyone could remember all the crazy stuff happening in such a short time span.
My pulse raced at this gig faster than any other time in my life (save for the time a milk truck nearly collided with my friend’s van). Although GG didn’t perform any of his late 70s material (which sounds NOTHING like his poster 1982-“puke-era” stuff) and I can’t remember the first two songs he did if I tried, this was the Gig to End All Gigs. The audience was in a near-state of panic from the second GG to the stage until he ran off in a bloody, crappy , bruised mess. Later reports say GG had run all the way from the Cat Club (14th street) up to the Port Authority (42nd street) to grab a bus back to New Hampshire. A couple of fanzines reported the bus driver made him get off and hose himself down, and then allowed him back on.
Any rumors you may have heard about GG ALLIN are probably true. I know because I witnessed several of them as they happened at this infamous gig. The same friend who went with me to this show played bass for GG at a 1990 gig (that would be GG’s last show in NYC). That show turned into a sniff-dope-off-the-amps fest, and nowhere near as intense as the Cat Club show.
On a musical level, GG’s voice was truly horrible this night. His high-pitched late 70s punk n’ roll yells had faded as his gravel-laced “Vomitose-era” had neared its Zenith.
Despite the crappy vocals, the dumb (and frankly, douche baggy-things) GG did to certain audience members (both here and at nearly all of his gigs), GG ALLIN AND THE NY SUPERSCUM at the Cat Club was one gig I’ll never forget … even if I tried to.
(END NOTE: GG ALLIN died of a heroin overdose on June 28th, 1993. He was 36 years old.)