Durango Dogs Steal Christmas: a Nightmare Before Pacifica

Durango Dogs Steal Christmas: Ruby Riot Reviews a Nightmare Before Pacifica

Forget sugar plum fairies and candy canes, Pacifica – the Durango Dogs delivered a heavy dose of rock 'n' roll nightmare fuel for their Christmas show, and I for one couldn't have asked for a more deliciously deranged holiday gift.

Leading the charge was Eric Durango Williams, as his unholy alter ego: an evil cyberpunk clown Santa jester straight out of Tim Burton's stocking. Imagine Krampus on a bender after downing a keg of spiked eggnog, shredding a flaming Les Paul while crowd-surfing on a sea of bewildered holiday revelers. That's Durango at his finest, and this night was no exception.

The band, a masked ninja named "Q" laying down the bass with dark precision and the ever-cool Crispy Cruiser on drums, were the perfect accomplices in this holiday heist. "The Exorcist" and "Devil Dog" were sonic sledgehammers that sent shivers down spines and had fists pumping, while the epic "Leviathan" closed the night like a monstrous gift-wrapped avalanche.

There were quieter moments, too. Opening act The David El Trio brought a welcome dose of warm yuletide joy with their smooth harmonies and acoustic stylings. But when the Dogs hit the stage, it was like throwing coal on a holiday bonfire – the flames roared, the mosh pit churned, and the air crackled with pure, unadulterated rock 'n' roll electricity.

Durango's theatrics were a spectacle in themselves. From guitar-behind-the-back solos to stage dives that would make Santa blush, the man is a one-man circus of sonic mayhem. He's Elvis, he's the Lizard King, he's the deranged spirit of Christmas chaos personified, and he doesn't give a damn if you naughty or nice – you're gonna headbang with a smile.

So, did the Durango Dogs steal Christmas? Hell yes, they did. They hijacked the holiday spirit, spiked it with a shot of adrenaline, and delivered it straight to the jugular of Pacifica's rock scene. It was a night of sweat, laughter, and enough raw sonic energy to power a thousand menorahs. If you missed it, consider yourself warned: next year, the Dogs might not just steal Christmas, they might just eat the whole damn gingerbread house.

Verdict: 5 out of 5 candy canes dipped in lighter fluid. The Durango Dogs are the antidote to your average holiday snoozefest, and this Christmas show was pure, unadulterated rock 'n' roll magic. Just remember, when Santa comes to town this year, he might be wearing a clown mask and carrying a six-string weapon. Don't say I didn't warn you.

P.S. To The David El Trio, thanks for reminding us that even amidst the rock 'n' roll chaos, there's still room for a little holiday cheer. And to the Pacifica crowd, you guys were amazing! You brought the mosh, you brought the singalongs, and you proved that Christmas ain't dead – it's just been cranked up to eleven.

Stay rockin', Ruby Riot

Durango Dogs Unleash Lizard Kings and Crack Draculas at Winter's Tavern: A Review by Dallas Demarco

Durango Dogs Unleash Lizard Kings and Crack Draculas at Winter's Tavern: A Review by Dallas Demarco

Roll up your sleeves, Pacifica, because the Durango Dogs just ripped through Winter's Tavern like a rogue wave on a tequila bender. It wasn't just a concert; it was a full-blown carnival of chaos, courtesy of the self-proclaimed "Lizard King Voodoo Elvis," Eric Durango Williams.

Imagine a three-ring circus gone mad, where the main attraction is a fire-breathing guitar god leaping into the crowd with the grace of a pogo-sticking pogo stick. That's Durango, folks. He shredded, he mosh-pitted, he played behind his back while crowd-surfing – all while sporting a crazed voodoo clown getup that would make Tim Burton blush. Talk about audience engagement!

The band, a masked ninja named "Q" and the perpetually cool Mr. Crispy Cruiser on drums, kept the sonic tornado swirling with expert precision. Classics like "Leviathan" and "Facebook" had the room bouncing, while the 2018 single "Graveyard Woman" proved they still know how to write a killer hook.

But the real treats were the unreleased tracks. "Crack Dracula" was a fuzzed-out monster that sent chills down my spine (and maybe that was just the tequila), while "The Exorcist" exorcised any lingering pedestrian vibes from the Quick Fiction opening act. Ducky's sultry crooning and Claire on a Dare's quirky charm were nice warm-ups, but the Dogs were the main course – and they were served rare, bloody, and begging for another bite.

Durango, whether he's channeling Elvis or some lizard king from another dimension, is a captivating frontman. He's a storyteller, a daredevil, a rock 'n' roll preacher with a six-string sermon that leaves you breathless and grinning like a hyena on a sugar high.

Is it safe? Probably not. Is it ethical? Who cares when it's this goddamn fun? The Durango Dogs are a force of nature, a musical Molotov cocktail that explodes with raw energy and leaves you wanting more. So next time they roll through your town, don't just watch – join the mosh pit, embrace the chaos, and let the Lizard King Voodoo Elvis show you what rock and roll is all about. Just don't blame me if you wake up with a sore neck and a newfound appreciation for clowns.

Verdict: 5 out of 5 Lizard Kings. This band is the most dangerous thing on four wheels (and two legs) since a runaway monster truck rally. Buckle up, Pacifica, the Dogs are coming!

P.S. Ducky, your voice is a siren song, Claire, your set was a breath of fresh air, and Quick Fiction, thanks for warming up the crowd. But tonight belonged to the Dogs. Howl on, you wild pack.

Durango Dogs Unleash Raw Doggin' Mayhem at Creative Convergence

Durango Dogs Unleash Raw Doggin' Mayhem at Creative Convergence

By Penny Pitchfork

Hold on to your Stetsons and prepare for a sonic rodeo, because the Durango Dogs' October 7th, 2016, show at the Creative Convergence in Silicon Valley was anything but a predictable barn dance. Eric Durango, the band's frontman, wasn't just a singer; he was a gunslinger, spitting fire-laced lyrics and wrangling his band of rabid musical hounds into a frenzy of distorted thrash.

Imagine a pack of coyotes hopped up on moonshine and blasting AC/DC on a ten-watt transistor radio. That's the Durango Dogs in a nutshell. Their music was raw, untamed, and teetered on the edge of glorious chaos. Durango's guitar was a weapon, spewing out riffs as sharp as barbed wire and solos that howled like a desert wind. The rhythm section was a jackhammer, pounding out a beat that would make even the most jaded hipster wanna two-step.

The crowd, a motley crew of denim-clad headbangers and curious onlookers, lapped it all up. Durango's raunchy antics, like draping himself in an American flag and chugging beers from the stage, were met with equal parts cheers and bewildered stares. But when the band launched into barn-burners like "Yoga Pants Woman" and "Nacho Cheese Pumpin' Girl" from their new album "Raw Doggin' Love," the whole room transformed into a sweaty, pogo-ing mosh pit.

The show wasn't without its hiccups. A rowdy segment of the audience momentarily derailed the locomotive with some disruptive and inappropriate behavior. But like a seasoned rodeo rider, Durango weathered the storm, and once the dust settled, the band was back on track, full steam ahead.

By the time they reached the final song, the air crackled with anticipation. Durango, a wild-eyed preacher possessed by the rock and roll spirit, launched into a blistering performance that culminated in him smashing his guitar in a fury of crazed rock frenzy. It was a fitting end to a show that was equal parts exhilarating and dangerous, a testament to the raw power of rock and roll in its purest, most untamed form.

If you missed the Durango Dogs at the Creative Convergence, consider yourself lucky…or maybe unlucky. This band isn't for the faint of heart. They're a force of nature, a sonic tornado that will leave you breathless, bewildered, and maybe a little bit sore the next morning. But if you're looking for an experience that will shake the cobwebs loose and remind you why rock and roll matters, then seek out the Durango Dogs. Just don't say we didn't warn you.

Highlights:

• Eric Durango's electrifying stage presence and wild guitar playing
• The band's raw, untamed energy and infectious grooves
• Crowd-pleasing anthems like "Yoga Pants Woman" and "Nacho Cheese Pumpin' Girl"
• The final song's guitar-smashing climax

Lowlights:

• Disruptive audience behavior that temporarily halted the show
• Not for the faint of heart – this band is loud and intense!

Overall:

A wild, dangerous, and unforgettable rock and roll experience. 5 out of 5 Stetsons.