The longest-running theatrical rock group in Canada rides again.

It’s Friday, Oct. 10, 8:30 p.m. at Amigos Cantina. I am dressed head to toe in a monochromatic striped dress, belt, pointy shoes, a jester’s headpiece and white makeup—a businesswoman complimented my outfit on the way in. I’m sitting stageside waiting for the last of the evening dinner crowd to clear while the show crowd files in. 

It’s an eclectic bunch, many dressed in plain street clothes showing up after a long workday, some sporting various band t-shirts and tattoos (the Misfits skull being the most common logo), and others who are dressed in elaborate costumes. Most of the latter contain some nod to goth or “punk” culture—fishnets, safety pins, even mohawks. The variety is jarring if you don’t know who (or what) is taking the stage at Amigos tonight. 

I am dressed as a jester because, for the second year in a row, I am acting as a stagehand for Canada’s longest-running theatrical rock group, New Jacobin Club, for their annual October show at Amigos Cantina. Last year, I didn’t dress up, and I left the show feeling as though I was not committed enough to the ensemble without some kind of costume, especially if I was going to be seen on stage amongst the band.

In their current iteration, they are a six-piece group comprised of The Horde (guitar and lead vocals), Poison Candi (theremin and vocals), The Ruin (bass), The Luminous (electric cello), The Rat King (drums) and Mistress Nagini (keyboards and backing vocals). In a 2016 interview with London-based magazine Rockshot, Poison Candi revealed that the group once comprised eleven members. The Horde tells me emphatically about their time touring with an accompanying freakshow. Each current member is adorned in what are now signature garments befitting their character—robes, belts, boots of imposing size, face paint and a hell of a lot of leather. 

Regina’s Nox Umbra take the stage first at around 10 p.m. and they get the crowd nicely warmed up with their take on melodic death metal. The audio mix of the opener is impressively clear given there are six people on stage, two of whom are guitarists. I watch Nox Umbra from the crowd and enjoy myself. They say goodnight after 40 minutes, and I mill about from the green room to the side of the stage, trying my best to help get things prepared. Before I know it, New Jacobin Club are patting each other on the back, walking onstage and ripping into their first tune “Empire of Dis”.

One of the most immediately compelling things about a New Jacobin Club performance is the elaborate theatrics which are fundamental to the band’s existence. Even when they began as a three-piece, there was always an element of shock-and-awe to their stage presence. Mistress Nagini is the main attraction tonight, and my role as stagehand is principally to assist her and make sure that nothing goes horribly wrong. Luckily for me, she knows exactly what she is doing and has done it all (and much more) before. 

Tonight, she will balance a cutlass on her head, swallow fire, lick a mousetrap, use an angle-grinder on a steel corset affixed to her own body and stab a large heart covered in blood to gory effect. The crowd is amazed at every turn and yell louder and louder for more—the band doesn’t miss so much as a beat while Nagini twirls and tantalizes.  

To speak on the beats themselves, New Jacobin Club are at their sonic core a rock and heavy metal crossover band. They sound like the best of Glenn Danzig and Iron Maiden, coupled with the bizarre soundscapes of Giallo and Golden-Age horror films. They are clearly not afraid to dabble in other sonic territory, either. “Like Dogs”, an NJC setlist staple, has an intro that calls to mind Frank Beard’s drumming on ZZ Top’s “La Grange”. “Feeder of Sorrows” is practically a distorted and impossibly heavy doo-wop number. Whatever the style, their songs are explosive, incredibly catchy and for lack of a better word, rocking.

Another thing worth mentioning about New Jacobin Club’s music is their lyrical subject matter. On the night of Oct. 10, concertgoers are treated to a wealth of subjects including but not limited to: evil priests, doomed love, plagues, executioners, the living dead, night terrors, urban legends and a myriad of other horrors. All of this is delivered with a song-first sensibility—they are the perfect lyrics for the instrumentals. It goes over incredibly well, and not just for the costumed members of the audience. Everybody in the crowd is loving it, even those who look like they’ve never seen a horror movie, much less read Faust or The Fall of the House of Usher. 

The show concludes after just over an hour, ending with a feverish encore that comprises two Misfits tunes—“Dig Up Her Bones” and “ Where Eagles Dare”. This encore and its accompanying fan reaction (as The Horde puts it, “They just won’t leave”) cements what I have known to be true since I first saw them perform at Amigos four years ago—there is something transcendent about New Jacobin Club that elevates them beyond a “horror-rock” novelty reserved for only the most cultish fans. 

At the end of the day, that’s why I love this band. They can hardly be considered ‘local’ due to having had an American record deal in the 90s, international distribution in the aughts, and U.K. tours in the 2010s, but they are really unlike anything else spawned in the Canadian Prairies. 

Every member is represented through their own unique visual aesthetic, but the group comes off as a cohesive unit. The unit is too genuine to be considered kitsch shock-rock, and too shocking to be labelled as simply a rock band. The music has an undeniable pop-appeal married with incredibly niche subject matter and somehow—through hard work, dedication and an unfaltering belief in the merit of a good show—it really, really works. 

I look forward to next October when I hope to reprise my role as the group’s stagehand and honorary fool. In the meantime, I encourage you to listen to New Jacobin Club’s latest album, Empire Of Dis, which is only available from their website since they didn’t get this far by selling out. 

If you choose to embark on this journey, however, be warned: nobody knows what horrors lie down in the pit.