Bonnaroo 2012, Gravy Style Day Three: Glenn Danzig vs. Nashville Cream

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As a personal rule, I tend to speak unfavorably about Bonnaroo bands who don’t allow media into the press pit. After all, it is the press pit. But hey, sometimes, for whatever reason, your services are not needed. For Danzig Legacy, we let that slide, considering they at least let us in the sweet spot. The muscle-bound godfather of horror-core strictly forbade celluloid of any sort. No photo, no video, and some would-be photogs seen snapping a shot were sometimes squirted with water guns by security.

In fact, Glenn himself took issue with one photog in particular. The shutterbug in question was our own Michael W. Bunch, who was photographing some people in the crowd dancing. Mid-song, Danzig ran to the side the of the stage pointing and screaming before approaching security and then proceeded to run all the way past the side stage, almost into the crowd to "walk among us." As you can see from the exclusive footage above, security soon slowed his roll, and Danzig returned to stage after a matter of minutes. (More on the performance in Lance's post.) Bunch told us that he was certain "Danzig was going to kick [his] ass." Awesome.

The band front-loaded the set with mostly newer Danzig tunes, working their way backward to touch on a Samhain song or two before bringing out original Misfits member Wolfgang Von Doyle to trip through the classics for which he’s best known. I’ve heard Misfits covers all my damn life, but I gotta say that watching only two original members including the man with the dark croon himself thrashing through faves like “Astro Zombies," “Skulls," “Bullet” and “Vampira” was nothing short of epic.

And the semi-reformed Misfits wasn’t even the first punk legends we’d seen that day. DC hardcore vets Bad Brains pretty much kicked off the day around 2 p.m. Notoriously eccentric frontman H.R. came out decked in a dapper white suit, long blonde wig, and matching wide brim hat looking something out of a Huggy Bear flick. Clutching a guitar he may or may not have actually been playing about 5 percent of the time. With barely a breath in between — save for HR’s barely audible mumbling banter — the Brains bolted through old faves like “Pay to Cum," “Sailin’ On” and “Attitude” with unjaded ferocity, occasionally breaking to extremely extended reggae jams.

To cap that night off, I think I may have just melted my brain enough to dig the shit out of Skrillex. I’m by no means going to dial that shit up on Spotify on the way home, but losing my mind in the midst of 5,000 half-naked, neon-covered bodies going absolutely, collectively apeshit put the phenomenon into a perspective that i could never have understood otherwise.

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