Meet Philly's most hated band.

By Brian McManus
Add Comment Add Comment | Comments: 0 | Posted Aug. 8, 2007

Share this Story:

Richmond resident No. 1: "I just got busted stealing celery from 7-Eleven!"

Richmond resident No. 2: "No fucking way! Dude, why were you stealing celery?"

Richmond resident No. 1: "I don't know. I hate celery. But I haven't eaten a vegetable in weeks, so I thought I needed it."


Richmond resident No. 1: "I bought a live chicken on eBay that I picked up, feathered, killed and ate today."

Richmond resident No. 2: "I've been wanting to do that too. How was it?"

Richmond resident No. 1: "It was gross. I think it was a just-for-laying-eggs chicken or something. It was really gamey, rubbery."

Inside, the gear is set up, and a crowd has amassed. Sharkey asks for the lights to be turned off, then he and Horner each flip on a strobe light attached to their amps. A few in the crowd let out a disapproving groan.

"Oh, now that we know you don't want it, we're definitely leaving them on," Sharkey says with a smile, picking up his strobe and holding it closer to the faces in the crowd.

"Asshole!" someone yells. People laugh.

"We've been in Richmond a few hours today. Seriously guys, you've gotta move. There's nothing to do in this town. It's a shithole," Sharkey deadpans before breaking into the churning thud of "Caliente Queen" from their new album Babylon Rules, to be released in October.

The crowd is just inches from the band. When they lurch forward, Sharkey and Horner get banged into. A few songs into the set the out-asshole makes himself known. It's the would-be celery thief. His mind deranged by lack of proper nutrients--or an abundance of a few too many alcohol-spiked wrong ones--he starts to cause a ruckus.

He bear-hugs Sharkey, making it impossible for him to play. A couple of Celery Thief's friends pull him off. Sharkey takes an impressive gulp of beer between songs, kicks in the next riff and sprays spit all over Celery Thief, which makes Celery Thief happy.

To show his approval, Celery Thief picks up a chair to throw. His friends wrestle him to the ground. Thwarted, he soon returns with a generous stack of paper towels from the restroom, balling them up one by one and throwing them at Clockcleaner.

Sharkey picks a few up, places them on top of his amp head and lights them on fire in advance of the night's last song.

Richie Charles

The sight of fire drives Celery Thief's thirst for mania. He pumps his fists and bounces into those around him. Horner unexpectedly throws Celery Thief a brutal and sturdy hip check that knocks him to the floor. Debilitated or humiliated--or both--the floor is where he stays. When he finally gets up, he makes his way to the Clockcleaner merchandise and begins recapping the night in a very loud play-by-play. He buys a shirt, a CD and two 7-inch singles.

A friend tries to get him to pipe down, tells him tonight's near chair-tossing crossed the line.

"Throwing a chair wouldn't be crossing the line," says Horner. "If you'd pulled a knife, that'd be crossing the line."

Prev| Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 |Next
Add to favoritesAdd to Favorites PrintPrint Send to friendSend to Friend



(HTML and URLs prohibited)

Related Content

Clockcleaner Hang It Up
By Brian McManus

Talking Teen Wolf and penises with Man Man and Clockcleaner. Also, Hannah Montana.