Remember the Before Times of 2018? It was a nearly mask-less era, when friends, acquaintances and strangers alike came together to watch performances from out-of-towners or locals. It was during this time that Everything is Terrible, the California-based art collective, brought last their traveling show, The Great Satan Tour, to Iowa City. It is an understatement to say a lot has changed in those three and half years. One such change is the demolition of the venue that previously hosted them.
“Oh, man, they tore that place down. We loved that place,” Commodore Gilgamesh reminisced after being informed The Mill was now rubble. “I guess that’s progress?”
Here we are in 2022 and Everything is Terrible (EiT, if you will) is returning to Iowa City (March 12), with their brand new live experience, Kidz Klub!
Through a conference call, I caught up with members Commodore Gilgamesh and Ghoul Skool just as they had awoken in some hotel room in Beaumont, Texas. Though deprived of coffee, they were in good spirits as they made their way through the Southern leg of their tour.
After getting their bearings, we began to discuss what inspired them to take on a children’s theme for their latest outing.
“After The Great Satan, we could only follow it up by going the complete opposite way,” Commodore Gilgamesh explained. “That’s what Kidz Klub! is. We decided to go full family friendly.”
“Kidz Klub! is a hard PG!” Ghoul Skool added. “You can bring the entire family.”
For anyone who doesn’t know, Everything is Terrible sifts through second-hand stores for discarded VHS tapes, the cheesier the better, then edits them into thematic montage films. It is equally insane and funny with a hefty dose of psychedelia.
In their own words, “Let’s say we started out as a group of friends who frequently met in the woods, where we learned how to edit tapes to entertain ourselves,” Commodore Gilgamesh assured me, though online sources may contradict these claims.
It is hard to describe, exactly, what one can expect from their content and live shows, but for folks that grew up with late ’80s/early ’90s D.A.R.E. propaganda, or ever had to sit through awkward low-budget instructional videos, you might begin to understand what you’re in for. Their altered-state collage videos have become a filmography of nine feature-length movies, including a dog-themed retelling of Alejandro Jodorowsky’s 1973 cult film The Holy Mountain, called Doggiewoggiez! Poochiewoochiez! and The Great Satan, where late ’80s Satanic Panic content is transformed into a hilariously absurd mind-bender.
“Doggiewoggiez! Poochiewoochiez! broke us,” Ghoul Skool said. Commodore Gilgamesh elaborated: “We watched thousands of hours, maybe 10s of thousands of hours, of dog-themed movies and TV shows. Then we spent nearly 10 months editing those into a film. I can’t even watch movies anymore after that. It’s like, alright, there’s the plot and this is what’s going to happen and then this will happen after. I am terrible to watch things with, just ask my partner.”
Broken minds notwithstanding, the EiT crew have developed a surreal live show to accompany their films on tour. Full of goofy costumes, live music (provided by Ghoul Skool and Country Death) and audience participation, the shows have a Saturday-morning-kids-show-meets-GWAR vibe. It’s like entering into an interactive cartoon.
“We make the costumes ourselves,” said Commodore Gilgamesh, upon prodding. “I do a lot of the repairs on them while we’re on the road.”
“The live shows are built around the movies, mainly because who just wants to sit in silence and watch weird videos?” Ghoul Skool posited. “Not when you can be a part of the experience, anyway.”
Though the movies and live performances tackle weird, unsettling territory, there is a levity to their approach.
“We don’t want to be scary or mean,” Commodore Gilgamesh explained. “There’s enough of that in the world already. We’re not trying to make fun of anyone or put anyone down.”
Ghoul Skool expanded: “We’re trying to bring joy to people, as much as we are able. Even The Great Satan was lighthearted. I mean, by the end of the show Satan is just a guy trying to pay the bills like everyone else.”
Aside from gaining notoriety for their dadaist films and live shows, the collective is also well known for their massive hoard of Jerry Maguire VHS tapes. It is a collection so large they have plans to construct a Jerry pyramid in the California desert out of their cache.
“We have over 35,000, at this point,” Ghoul Skool said.
“In Denver alone we received 500,” Commodore Gilgamesh added. “We have enough to build the pyramid, we’re just waiting for the funding.”
“We’re confident the funding will come,” Ghoul Skool continued. “It’s like Field of Dreams.”
Curious, I asked what would become of the surplus tapes they’re still receiving.
“Whatever tapes we have left will be entombed within the pyramid,” Ghoul Skool said. “Our shrine to all things Jerry!”
To make sure there was no misunderstanding, Commodore Gilgamesh reassured, “We still want all of the Jerrys. Just because we can build the Pyramid doesn’t mean people should stop bringing us their Jerrys.”
If you have never seen one of their shows and are on the fence, they have some words of encouragement.
“The fans are great, and we love them,” Commodore Gilgamesh said. “But when we see someone after the show who came out on a whim, who’s never even heard of us, that’s the best.”
Ghoul Skool chuckled before continuing, “There’s nothing like meeting someone who’s never heard of us and watching their mind break open.”
And remember, if you find a Jerry Maguire in the wild, bring it with you!
Christopher Burns lives in a state of uncertainty between Iowa City and the Quantum Realm. In between fluctuations he writes weird stories and plays music with the Shining Realm. This article was originally published in Little Village issue 304
