Dax Riggs. No funny caption.
I’ve been given the opportunity to contribute to Washington City Paper, DC’s long-running alt-newsweekly. It’s a fine rag. I just finished my first assignment: performance previews of Thurston Moore and a dude named Dax Riggs. I think it went well.
Thurston’s new album is dull as fuck, but Riggs is fun, in a Halloween-y kind of way. The latter fronted a sludge-psych-metal band called Acid Bath back in the ’90s — we were contemporaries! He currently resides in Houma, Louisiana, which my wife assures me is a sure sign of mental instability.
In the course of my research, I checked out his MySpace page, and was immediately struck by his top "friends," including Alan Moore, Austin Osman Spare, Aleister Crowley, Diamanda Galas and Carl Perkins. Fuck yeah!
Turns out his stuff is fairly decent. Riggs has a rich bluesy baritone that sounds like Nick Cave swallowed David Coverdale. No kidding.
The music is raw-ish, just guitar, bass, drums and vocals, but it gets the job done. Imagine if Danzig were, say, 25 percent less cheesy… but only 25 percent.
Some may dismiss Rigs as a goth-blooze poseur, but I think he’s actually pretty soulful in spots. And how can you argue with winning song titles like "Demon Tied to a Chair in My Brain," "Dog Headed Whore" and "Forgot I was Alive?" Ben from Farm, I’m looking at you.
Riggs is also in a two-piece band called Deadboy & the Elephantmen — a kind of White Stripes-gone-satanic scenario.
Here’s a taste of his solo debut, We Sing of Only Blood or Love, on Fat Possum. You dig, you buy.
Mr. Riggs plays DC9 on Tuesday, Oct. 2.