Max Webster

MAX WEBSTER was born seven years ago, a starry eyed quartet that played the hits and quickly decided that musical familiarity breeds contempt. Despite the law of averages and the music biz pressures to be ordinary, the foursome molded an identity that was/is uniquely MAX WEBSTER. Raised in the depressing little industrial city of Sarnia, Ontario, these lads discovered early in the day that the only sure cure for the all-pervasive doldrums of Sarnia life was to PARTY! Not just have a good time, mind you; but PARTY like your life depends on it. Because in Sarnia it does.



Even in those early days, MAX WEBSTER was clearly a sensational live band. they had to be to win the support of the Sarnia citizenry. Peculiar clothes, peculiar music and peculiar lyrics were all combined to make a MAX WEBSTER show an event, an open invitation to spontaneous combustion. Singer/guitarist Kim Mitchell wears whatever seems to suit him on that particular day with no nods to current fashion. His deep rooted eyes make him both intriguing and suspicious as he spits morse code lyrics into the microphone, moving around like a broken Slinky toy. Terry Watkinson alternately pounds and caresses the keyboards, his jerky puppet moves forcing onlookers to search for the invisible strings. Gary McCracken's percussion is muscular and relentless, slipping in and out of standard rock rhythms with ease to accent here and punctuate there. Bassist Dave Myles peppers the mix with some solid but agile runs up the frets. He imparts an air of inscrutibility. It's a potent quartet live, one that leaves a first-time viewer awe-struck and slackjawed. MAX WEBSTER gives its audience a sense of anticipation, the feeling that anything could happen. And, in true party fashion, you never know who's going to end up wearing the lamp shade.