Puerto Rican Day parade and parties around the city, Sunday afternoon Chinatown street market, but the loudest, most frenetic activity in Philadelphia on September 28th was inside the Trocadero, where Overkill was headlining on their White Devil Armory tour. Might not be able to teach an old dog a new trick, but these old dogs could teach the younger set a thing or two about live shows. Wow!

Overkill are no strangers to the Troc, "Your New Jersey neighbors," reminds affable frontman Bobby 'Blitz' Ellsworth. Like the band, he's confident onstage, enough to chide the rabid sports base each time he's in the house, be it hockey or football season. "Don't want to hear about the Eagles losing" (coming onstage shortly after the Birds laid an egg in San Fran), "don't disappoint me" he warns the crowd. No chance, as the rest of the night proves a mutual admiration society.

The veterans storm out of the gate with "Amorist", still sounding to these ears like "a Marine" but what better analogy for these guys, especially Blitz, who runs across the stage, frequently atop the front of house sound wedges, like he's about to launch himself into the breach (which he's done on occasion, but not tonight). Their signature track (since renamed "Overkill I", after a pair of sequels) is a welcome old school nugget, but photographically worthless in deep purples and reds. Dual 3x3 stacks of guitar cabinets flank drummer Ron Lipnicki, still the new guy, after a decade.

 

 

Like a general, bassist DD Verni surveys and commands the stage, particularly during the singer's frequent departures. Following a lively "Electric Rattlesnake", it was "Wrecking Crew". Talk about out of hand! In black tank top, Ellsworth's sinewy limbs are contorted in all sorts of ways. The green lit "Black Daze" is the lone slowdown in the first 30 minutes. By "Rotten To The Core", guitarist Derek Tailer was already shirtless. The crowd sang along, as strobes galore flash like a mid-summer lightning storm. The closing, titular chorus is delivered a cappella, solely by the audience, as Blitz teeters atop the monitors. Under reds and yellows, "Bring Me The Night" sees Ellsworth return to the stage, singing from Tailer's mic, whilst anointing the crowd with bottled water.

"Don't know about you, but we've got the energy," chides the curly haired singer, before adding, "Gonna hit you with that Peking Duck that's hanging in the window, around the corner." Just as quixotic, it's time for a surprise, deep catalog cut, "End Of The Line" (the lengthiest track of off Under The Influence,1988), originally dusted off for their appearance at ProgPower, at the start of the month-long tour. Begun with the blacken stage illuminated in strobes, the gritty bass rumbler offers Dave Linsk a chance to solo, as well as a mellow mid-section. Gradually building towards crescendo, it sees Lipnicki take a forceful trip around his toms.

Golden lights highlight Linsk, alone onstage, as he offers hammer-ons to start "Long Time Dyin". Blitz shadowboxes imaginary demons, then its pink/yellow lights, with a hint of stage fog, as they segue seamlessly into "Under One", Verni and Tailer barking out the two-word chorus. Ellsworth then tells those assembled that White Devil Armory broke into Billboards' Top 40 albums. "Thought, "That lying cock sucker (who informed him) has a bad sense of humor!" Red lights hail the drum barrage that is "Pig", followed by "Hello From The Gutter". Where else do pigs belong? Strobe headlights, shining from the drum riser directly into the crowd, punctuate the title phrase. It marked the first rousing ovation in a while, coming on the heals of a four-song stretch of less familiar works. "Ironbound" rounded out the proper set in fine form.

 

 

However, no Overkill show would be complete without the good-nature, one-finger salute: band-to-fans and vice versa. Before that, however, was newbie "Bitter Pill", hardly a requisite 'Encore' number. The same can not be said of the aforementioned (and now forever inexorably linked) "Elimination" and their rendition (most probably don't even realize it's a cover) of "Fuck You". Squarely aimed beyond the confines of the concert hall, there's no venom in the lyrics, at least not amongst those gathered here, a sea of outstretched arms, middle-fingers to the sky, as Blitz sports an ear-to-ear grin, overlooking the sight.

I don't care what you say, Overkill is a lot of fun!

Additional photos from Philly can be seen here.