Dark Meat @ Call The Office in London, Ontario

by Josh Khan

“That has to be them....oh man, that's gotta be them!”

The pure excitement brewing in the words spoken by a 20-something in line was unusual, but set the tone for the night. Music devotees were scanning a retro tour bus parked outside.  Shadowed by the dim night sky, the pale road monster isn't exactly entertaining to the naked eye.  That is, until one looks above the windshield and discovers that the tamed beast is in fact called “The Anaconda”.

Without a doubt, the band’s name suits its owners.  Being the savage melody warriors they are, it was surprising to see a musical act like Dark Meat lounge at a grunge-scented bar like Call The Office.  The majority of the minglers were folk who prefer heavy guitar anthems to music that's energetic or vibrant.  Impressing such a musically-introverted audience would seem like a difficult task, but that wasn't the case for Dark Meat.

“You guys should have seen the girls in Toronto,” muttered singer Jim McHugh.  “All these girls have these eyebrows and they have veins in their pants--it's pretty cool.”

Toronto may have fashionistas who define the word “cool” in the Canadian dictionary, but the members of Dark Meat seemed to wear the universal language of what's hip.  Clad in war paint, capes and crowns, the psychedelic rock army seemed like a marching band waiting to explode into a sunshine-filled music riot.  All they needed was the signal from the group's Field Commander.

“We're Dark Meat from Athens, Georgia,” said McHugh. “And this is a song about drugs.”

With musical attrition devouring the atmosphere, the band with too many members to count on two hands launched into their set.  Horns flared, cymbals crashed, and guitars wailed as Dark Meat opened their show with the danceable bundle of energy “One More Trip”.  Despite being crowded onto a stage ideal for a quintet, each musician screamed with their instrument, collectively creating a sound that 1960’s Woodstock followers would have revelled in.  It's hard to imagine additional instruments like horns and a giant multi-coloured tuba creating noise that's pleasing to the ear, but the end result was pure unison.

Such onstage chemistry dragged listeners from the bar to the stage, which disappeared as the audience swarmed around the colourful performers’ ankles.  To make sure the crowd stayed to hear their musical souls rejoice, Dark Meat did the near impossible and kicked the tempo up to another level.  Supporting vocalists danced alongside supporters engulfed in shimmy-like trances, and the band kept true to their trademark and released a fog of bright confetti and glitter into the air.  Such antics had the crowd wanting more as fans shouted in between songs, stating how much they disgust white meat and prefer the darker kind.

With such a sweet taste in music, it would be hard to turn down a helping of Dark Meat.