Breugel is truly one of the more bizarre bands in Down County. From their white painted faces to their blue tattooed eyelids, from the Breugel murals that hang behind the band to the shop machinery they use at every performance, Breugel has redefined the word “strange” in a community whose list of superlatives has been exhausted for decades.
Their samples, bass riffs, overdrive guitar and howling bassoon rev the crowd like an F-14 then crest to a deafening wall of madness that envelopes their fans like a Cat 5 Whirlygig, spitting on anyone foolish enough to define them.
But their sales aren’t hard to define.
Their latest CD, “Procession to Calvary” has topped KRAK’s Whack List for over a month and shows no sign of letting up. The CD, an homage to their native Flubug and dirge for the collective cesspool they see enveloping everything east of Poison Wells, is arguably their best.
The opening track, “Requiem for an Octomom,” begins with a plaintive call that women who bear more than one child (or a resemblance to Pat Benatar) should be executed. “Hell ain’t for children! Hell is for you! Hell is our sawblade… cut you in two!” It continues with equally disturbing medlies like “Three Penny Opera” about the Shilltown serial killer who taped pennies to his victims’ knees before throwing them into the Miasma, and the grating “Walla Walla Bing Bang” which exhorts fans to release wild animals into the streets from local zoos.
But perhaps the band’s strangest hallmark isn’t their rise to fame but their use of machinery to create crude Medieval implements. Not that the use of machinery is new. Noise bands and experimental outfits have used machinery for years to explore new sounds. But Breugel’s band members don’t use machinery to make music. They use it to craft tools while performing on stage, tools that are cast into the crowd at a high rate of speed during the performance in the hopes of locating their Messiah …a “futurist” they believe holds mankind’s collective souls in limbo.
But wait. There’s more.
Breugel members believe they were whisked from their jobs as blacksmiths in thirteenth century London and dumped into twenty first century Flubug. The belief has been central to their meteoric rise and spawned a rabid following of fans, each hoping to return with the band to the thirteenth century.
Unfortunately, this has created something of a safety hazard as misguided fans try to catch the red hot metal chunks to prove they’re the band’s Messiah. It’s also led Flubug Police to cancel several gigs at The Ditch which has lead to mini-riots outside the club.
Yet through it all, Breugel remains one of the most compelling – and popular – bands in the region. And in a town like Flubug, that’s saying a lot.
Bruegel performed to a sell-out crowd at The Ditch this Wednesday. Their next performace is slated to be “a Christmas show” according to Ditch Entertainment Director, Mandy Manley. “I understand they’re going to make a sleigh on stage and toss it into the crowd.”
Flubug Police are advising the public to stay home.