W.A.F.P. is France’s premier W.A.S.P. tribute band—and, to be fair, they might also be France’s only W.A.S.P. tribute band. Their name, of course, is short for We Are French Perverts, which is not just a pleonasm but also probably a somewhat accurate description of their bassist. Full disclosure: that bassist is a good friend of the site and a familiar face around here. You may have seen him interviewing Suffocation HERE and HERE, or chatting with Beastö Blancö HERE. Yep, that’s our guy.
Musically speaking, W.A.F.P. delivers. W.A.S.P. has always occupied a strange and compelling place in the glam metal ecosystem—equal parts shock rock, heavy metal, punk, and theatrical sleaze. Their songs are sharp, melodic, and heavy, and W.A.F.P. leans into all of it with tight playing and a clear affection for the material. It’s not just surface-level mimicry; these guys actually get the songs.
That said, don’t come expecting Blackie Lawless–level stage antics. There were no slabs of raw meat, no pyrotechnics, and, thankfully or regrettably depending on your tolerance for 1980s outrage, no crotch-mounted buzzsaws (the buzzsaws were on the singer's forearms, so it wasn't a total loss...) What you do get is a straight-ahead, energetic set that lets the songs speak (and scream) for themselves.
Unfortunately, the gig happened to be on a Tuesday night, which means that attendance was rather poor. I guess people would rather stay in and watch Matlock or who knows what the fuck is on... Well, it's their loss. Hearing those classic tracks live, loud, and just a few feet away from the stage, well it just hits the spot. So what if said stage is partially obstructed by a poorly placed column... This is live music, in a real grassroots venue. They need our support.
The real W.A.S.P. will be playing the Paris area in June but in the meantime, if you’ve got a soft spot for sleazy riffs and sneering choruses, and if W.A.F.P. happens to swing through your town, they’ll scratch that itch for you. With a chainsaw!
