
January 23rd, 2025 – The night began with a bang—and a barrage of toilet paper. Underground Arts was already filling up for tonight’s X-Cops show, but Belushi Speed Ball turned that anticipation into outright madness.









Picture this— a thrash metal band so off-the-wall they’ve turned audience participation into an art form. Hundreds of rolls of toilet paper flew through the air like some unholy ticker-tape parade, as the band’s manic energy whipped the crowd into a frenzy. The chaos was so perfectly choreographed that, by the end of their set, the crowd was cleaning up after themselves, laughing like lunatics in a punk rock fever dream. It was the perfect primer for the madness to come.
Then, the lights dimmed, the bass growled, and the X-Cops stormed the stage—a mob of deranged authority figures ready to lay down the law. Or, more accurately, to utterly demolish it. X-Cops, the gleefully unhinged side project of GWAR, exploded onto the scene in a spectacle of riot gear, handcuffs, batons, and sheer anarchic energy. Imagine a SWAT team on speed, blasting speed metal and hardcore so fierce it felt like the walls were closing in. Every member was in full costume, each playing their part with grotesque conviction.

Photos + Article by @a.j.kinney
They opened with a thunderous rendition of “Barbells / Beat You Down,” and the pit immediately transformed into a war zone. Theatrics were cranked to eleven. Fake tear gas canisters were lobbed into the crowd, prisoners in orange jumpsuits stumbled across the stage, and a riot cop with a shield and baton joined the fray, barking commands into the microphone. X-Cops are masters of satire, blending brutal riffs with lyrics that eviscerate the absurdity of authority. “Highway Patrol” had the audience howling with laughter and headbanging in unison, a bizarre cocktail of rage and hilarity.
The highlight of the set—if you can even call it that in a night full of insanity—was “Paddy Wagon Rxpe.” It began with Sgt. Al Depantsia barking a mock-sermon about law and order before the band launched into a savage, breakneck groove. Prisoners were theatrically dragged onto the stage and “arrested” to the crowd’s maniacal cheers. And then there was Sheriff Tubb Tucker, prowling the stage with a manic grin, delivering guttural vocals that hit like a billy club to the ribs. It was raw, it was ridiculous, and it was everything you could hope for from a band this unapologetically absurd.







The music itself was relentless, a full-on assault of speed metal precision and hardcore ferocity. Every riff was a punch to the gut, every drumbeat a shotgun blast. But beneath the chaos, the musicianship was tight as hell. These aren’t just guys in costumes; they’re bona fide shredders who know exactly what they’re doing. Tracks like “Zipper Pig” and “Third Leg” showcased the band’s knack for blending humor with sheer sonic brutality.
The finale was pure theater: a staged riot that saw the band, their costumed entourage, and even a few brave fans clash in a whirlwind of fists, batons, and staged chaos. The crowd screamed along as the band brought the night to a deafening close, leaving the venue looking like the aftermath of a punk rock uprising.






Walking out of Underground Arts, our ears were ringing, voices were hoarse, and faces were plastered with shit-eating grins. X-Cops orchestrated a full-blown assault on good taste and common sense.. It was chaotic, cathartic, and completely unforgettable. If they roll into your town, don’t think—just go. And maybe bring some bail money, just in case.