Tonight’s show at Reggie’s: legendary thrash giants D.R.I. Before doors open a jet-black hair after nine, a column of characters stand outside the venue in the bitter cold. Sculpted leopard-skin-dyed mohawks move back and forth alongside ass-length locks streaked with silver gray. Fans range in ages from barely legal to nearly old enough to collect Social Security.
“That is the awesome thing about this show! D.R.I has been around for almost thirty years, so the fan base is insane! People’s fathers are here!” says a recent convert to the subculturally famous skate-core quartet.
“It’s fast and loud as shit. What else do you want to hear?” says Andy, a longtime fan.
D.R.I shreds away on the stage of Reggie’s on South State Street, going through tracks as if fired from a gatling gun. At the center of the crowded room spins a tornado of bodies. Drunken screams pulse over the air.
After two in the morning and fans still linger for autographs and a chance to chat with their metal heroes. Even Abe, the venue’s sound engineer, is giddy with excitement as he breaks down the stage in the now-empty venue. “I remember seeing you guys back in ’90!” (Jonathan Kaplan)