(1983-1985)
Demonwatch. The name conjures up images of evil, of blackness, of soul-less existance. Forget that. Demonwatch was about the music. Music from deep inside, music from the soul; a slightly tarnished soul, but a soul none the less.
Demonwatch for me epitomizes the loudest of the loud, the baddest of the bad, the hardest of the hard.
Accolades? Few and far between. They had only one major release, plus various bootlegs floating around out there. They played only a handful (a very small handful) of gigs, but man, they knew how to have a good time. Hardcore drinking, sweet dope smoke clouds so thick you couldn't see who it was being passed to. A blatant disregard for just about anything society could throw at them. They cherished a reputation as the band that was asked to leave the most parties.
Substandard equipment, pathetic studio facilities, a drummer who had to have the last word on everything (but not now, huh Jay?). But they still muddled through, a poor man's Spinal Tap. MIDI? Synths? Multi-effects processors? Screw that; these guys grew up on Commodore 64's and sprouted big stiffies over Atari's Combat.
Sadly, the party lasted only a couple of years before they disbanded due to creative (and emotional) differences. This of course does not include their earlier incarnations as The Hemroids, the Virgin Killers, and various solo projects.
A large part of the blame for their demise lies squarely on the shoulders of piss-poor management, for what they needed was management that would nurture their destructive side instead of suffocating it.
I could go on about what could have been, but instead of dwelling on the past, let's march into the future.
Go back to Marook
