Brody Armstrong of the Distillers Knitting Factory, NYC, 3/2/02 Photo by Jeanne Fury, © 2002 NY Rock

Denmark's Nekromantix were onstage, and lead singer Kim Nekroman was wielding his upright coffin-bass – yes, it's an upright bass in the shape of a coffin – like the freak he most certainly is. Five albums under their noose, and they haven't lost any balls. Songs about sex, death, and all that fun-loving macabre stuff make this psychobilly trio (which includes Peter Sandorff and Kristian Sandorff) spawns of everyone's favorite b-movie band, the Cramps. Stomping through tunes like "Gargoyles Over Copenhagen" and "Who Killed the Cheerleader," from their latest CD Return of the Loving Dead, Nekromantix had the crowd jumping and yelling lyrics, while the braver souls knocked about in the pit.

"When I say 'Britney Spears' you say 'Fuck that bitch!!'" Nekroman barked. The crowd gleefully complied and jeered when prompted. I guess the pop star gets no punk love even after covering "I Love Rock 'n' Roll."

The band did a disco break, and Nekroman flaunted his best Saturday Night Fever moves while Peter got friendly with his wah-wah pedal. They brought up Geoff Kresge from Tiger Army (who had to cancel their spot on tonight's bill) to play with Nekroman's big coffin, and the crowd paid due respect by ramming bodies into each other. Slick with sweat, Nekromantix exited the stage to make way for the Distillers.

I think I speak for all estrogen bombs when I say, Brody Armstrong, you make me tick faster. The 22-year old Australian lead singer/guitarist for the Distillers is the monkey's punk-rock pajamas. She's also the wife of Tim Armstrong (lead singer of Rancid and founder of Hellcat Records). Brody's songs highlight desperation, struggle, and rage. And she's got a feminist streak that never goes unnoticed. Her shielded persona isn't the most welcoming presence. The woman looks like she'd chain-whip you if you happened to look at her funny. I'm not about to look at her funny or unfunny or any other way, for that matter. Not everyone in the crowd was as intimidated as I was. When the skinny, short Brody climbed onstage, with her spiked crown, thick black eye makeup, bitch-red lipstick, and ratty, black Ramones T-shirt, a girl behind me lunged over my shoulders screaming, "You are SO COOOL," and you best believe she didn't mean me.

Brody Armstrong of the Distillers Knitting Factory, NYC, 3/2/02 Photo by Jeanne Fury, © 2002 NY Rock

The band has a new line-up since their birth a few years ago. Brody still leads, but with her tonight were Ryan (bass) and Andy Outbreak (drums). I'm compelled to mention that this band takes full advantage of Andy's incredible drumming talents. The guy goes above and beyond the bass-snare combination of traditional punk songs to concoct barreling drum sequences that'll have you jumping out of your socks. Note to all other bands: make us jump out of our socks and we'll love you more. Hell, by the end of this set, the frenzied outpouring of energy made my socks melt in my boots. I wasn't the only one.

The crowd had an emotional response to the performance, something that doesn't happen unless the music is really amazing. Punk songs, by nature, are incendiaries, so a worked-up crowd is nothing shocking. But what makes the Distillers so amazing is that their music is so well arranged. Like Rancid's songs, the Distillers' songs don't all sound the same. Harmonies soar out of the speakers. There's just enough definition to make every chorus and every riff stick to your ribs, but it's nowhere near streamlined so you never forget that this is punk fucking rock you're listening to. Just buy the new CD, Sing Sing Death House, and you'll understand. When the crowd literally and flagrantly reaches for a band, well, that's something special. The Distillers have that something in excess.

Brody's voice is a mix of the pre-Prada Courtney Love's and the scorned sneer of Wendy O. Williams' – raw, snide, throaty, a bit nasal, and with the bitch-o-meter cranked up to a 10. When Brody's voice tore through the air, chunks of her soul were sloughed off, and every individual body surged forward. By the second song, I think it was "Sick of It All," the crowd was so tightly packed together lunging to get near the guitarist, that I didn't even have to support my own body weight. Bodies continually crowd surfed, boots met with heads, and the catharsis was knee-buckling. Brody's chin was glossy with her saliva, and her runny eye-makeup couldn't hide the look of longing she projected. Often, her glassy eyes would gaze into the balcony with this kind of searching-stare that was eerily blank, yet gut-wrenching to witness. It's a look many kids know all too well, especially girls.

Gender equality was riding high. It's incredibly important that girls have a real bad-ass that they can identify with in a female lead singer. And the girls in the crowd fought hard for their heroine, someone who looked and felt like they did. When Brody was singing the Elizabeth Cady and Susan B. Anthony tribute song, "Seneca Falls," two girls managed to get onstage and sing along with her, and the entire Knitting Factory was crying out a chorus of "Freedom rise up for me!" Ever have a moment during a show that makes you want to claw at your skin so you get maximum exposure to the carnal energy? Am I in heaven?

Throughout the set, the band spoke very little. Here and there, Brody would say "thank you," and at one point she dedicated a song "to our new friends, you know who you are." But by and large, the Distillers rocked out, pausing briefly between songs. Ryan dove into the crowd twice, and I'm not referring to a whee-look-at-me kind of jump – these were Olympic vaults. There wasn't a still moment, even when Brody said they were going to slow things down a bit and then played "Oh Serena" (at least, I think that's the song I heard). She noted that this particular crowd was the best one on the tour, and said, "You're working just as hard as we are." Perhaps she reckoned that from the number of collapsed Mohawks that literally couldn't take the heat.

Ever feel like you've been ravaged by King Kong and you still want more? That's like witnessing the Distillers live.