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Some people are afraid of big cities, New York in particular, but after having a Mexican promoter pull a gun on you and hijack Mike Sifringer's prize guitar for ransom, then get unceremoniously "banned" from a Midwest Walmart, for some minor tour hijinx, the perils of the Big Apple seem minor. "You think you've seen everything and then someone pulls a gun on you," says Schmier, explaining the incident south of the border. He made sure to say that the people of Mexico were great. Although nearly summer, frontman/bassist Schmier and Sifringer look a little pale, compared to our last meeting, onshore in Jamaica, as part of the 70000 Tons cruise. Odder still, the randomly blind hotel selection site Hotwire booked me into the Marcel Hotel, in Gramercy. Marcel is actually Schmier's given name! Kismet.

Keeping my shipboard promise to Mike, seeing them on the American tour, it was off to the Marlin Room at Webster Hall (the old Ritz, for those that remember the '80s). The building has been subdivided into several stages, and May 30th, there were no less than five separate events happening, thus the package of four metal bands began at 5:30 (the Germans on at 7:30), with a curfew before 10:30pm. On a Saturday, in NYC? Wow. Not a headlining set, but more lie a festival gig: get up and play the hits for an hour, then backstage for a couple of beers. The touring incarnation of Destruction features Canadian Randy Black (last seen in Primal Fear) substituting for Vaaver, on drums. "Took me about a week to get up to speed," he confessed. Black opted to use his own kit,"Their set-up had a double kick drum pedal and I use separate ones. If I have to set up on the floor, I will use my own set-up. Which is precisely what happened, his kit was erected in front of the Sep backline, severely hampering the amount of space for Schmier and Mike to move about.

But move they did, frequently criss-crossing the stage, a second mic employed on stage left so the bassist could deliver the lyrics from either position. Rarely did the two meet, and then only on Mike's side, which was a roomier. "Curse The Gods" and "Trash Till Death" streamed by as I shot photos from the crowd (no photo pit), trying to avoid the moshers who had even less room, thanks to opening acts equipment stacked either end of the hall. The familiar piercing Schmier yelps were evident on "Nailed To The Cross" and follow-up, "Mad Butcher". Although he questioned whether the lights were working, there were lost of blues/greens/reds shining from behind the band, as electric fans blew into their faces, frequently billowing their hair. Speaking of which, Schmier has either shaved his sides, or had a haircut, as more of his face is now visible.

It was straight red lights for "Armageddonizer", the one lull in an otherwise A List performance. The frontman mentioned he's been coming to the States for 32 years now (older than many in attendance!) as he points to Mike, to start the green lit "Eternal Ban". Schmier held the bass vertically, as the color scheme switched between green and blue. The oldie leads into a short Randy Black drum solo, the others toweling off and grabbing a sip to drink. There was plenty of fog throughout the night and a re-energized blast greeted "Invincible Force". The crowd repeatedly chanting "Destruction" seemed a perfect segue for "The Butcher Strikes Back", a brief moment of the house lights coming on, in the midst of the red backlit and white strobe attack. No matter, Schmier raised his bass vertically once more and scowled out the words with added fervor. "Bestial Invasion" got the pit going, apparently somewhat tired or just saving their energy for the Brazilians who would follow.

There's something right about a Plasmatics cover ("The Damned") to end the night in NYC. Beginning as a slower grind, it slams into a full-on punk anthem. Cheers to the Marlin Room for knowing their audience and allowing the usual two draft beers for $15 to cover 160z cans of Heiny, Stella and Corona tonight. Know the boys in the band appreciated my refreshment gift, upon their return to the venue (no dressing rooms), to watch the headliners and hang with the fans. As always, Destruction are a band of the people. Long may they reign!