Did you ever think you'd see pictures of King Diamond in Splendid? Yeah, it's a funny old world, isn't it?

Inside the packed club, the anticipation was thick, and the wall-to-wall bodies thicker. This was quite possibly the most overstuffed show that I've ever attended; even the area behind the venue's back-wall bar was impassable.

On the tiny stage at the front of the room there lay a wooden coffin, the name "Abigail" etched into its side, lit by a pair of blue lights. Shortly after midnight (of course), King Diamond emerged from the wings in a velvet coat and top hat, while "Funeral" from his 1987 classic Abigail played over the PA. The spoken-word rite details the funeral for a child "that must never rise to cause evil again." Seven silver spikes driven through the body were prescribed to do the trick, and Mr. Diamond acted out the ceremony on a baby doll to carry the point home. Impressively, he pulled this off without any of Gwar's heavy-handed irony, and on about a tenth of the budget.

As the backing band emerged from the wings, they launched into the first of three consecutive tunes from Abigail, and followed those with four from last year's Abigail II: The Revenge in order to maintain the integrity of the story. The band, led by long-time guitarist Andy LaRocque, blistered through "A Mansion in Darkness", but chose to trade ear-splitting volume for sonic quality, which was much appreciated during the acoustic tinged "Black Horsemen". King Diamond would probably have gone the way of Queensryche at the advent of grunge without the musical prowess of his hires, but the real allure is the horror story concept albums and the unrelenting Satanic overtones of his live show. Despite the band's prowess and surprisingly tight sound, they remained in the shadows, leaving the King room to act out dramatic operas, which he delivered in his signature three-octave shriek.

A gargoyle and impaled puppet remained on the set for the entire show, while coffins, gravestones and crucifixes, among other props, were paraded around like totems. They were mostly cardboard cutouts, but I couldn't fault them for trying to mount a rock opera on a tight budget. To bring more theatre to the event, a young actress gave life to several of the roles Diamond mimicked in his many voices. She danced in a white dress as the ghostly Miriam from the Abigail records. It seemed a little hokey at first, but for $20 you can't expect Broadway. She mimed a tumble down the slippery stairs during "The Family Ghost", and returned from beyond the grave in "Spirit".

After spending the first forty-five minutes of the show performing the Cliff's Notes version of two of his eleven albums, King Diamond was ready to deliver a few of his greatest hits, and "Eye of the Witch" and "Sleepless Nights" fit the bill. Their sing-along choruses riled the crowd; there is nothing like hearing a few hundred King Diamond imitators all singing at once. Some tried to ape the shrill high notes or the demonic growls of their master, while others simply bellowed in their own off-key warbles. During these occasions, it may have behooved the band to turn their amps, if not all the way to eleven, at least to eight, though I don't blame the forty-seven year-old vocalist for preserving his voice and relishing hearing his lyrics shouted back at him, no matter how badly they were butchered.

At this point, Diamond announced the release of his newest album, The Puppet Master, and was rejoined by his actress for a performance of the title track. She was now attired in a sort of burlesque dummy outfit, and reminded me of the scene in Chicago where Roxie Hart was perched on Billy Flynn's knee, mouthing words as he sung them. In fact, a similar scene was played out during the bittersweet duet "So Sad". The set ended with "Welcome Home" from the under-represented Them, and once again a character from the song was brought to life; this time "Grandma" appeared, complete with a $25 Halloween mask and a wheelchair.

In true metal fashion, one encore wasn't enough for the King; he returned for a second, busting out "Halloween" from his first solo album. Though Halloween was the previous Friday, he declared, "every night to me / is Halloween." The crowd, their numbers slightly diminished, gave it their all, belting out the lyrics with him. Even through the thick pancake make-up on King Diamond's face, I could see the gratitude he felt for such a devoted following. It was heartwarming to see someone so "evil" touched in such a sincere way -- kind of like the Grinch. It was the perfect ending to a surprisingly well-done show.

Or so about a third of the audience thought. Following an extended break that included several "Diamond! Diamond!" chants, the band materialized (yes! a third encore!) in Santa hats, with King Diamond adding a Santa coat to his ensemble. LaRocque twisted the first few bars of "Jingle Bells", which everyone recognized as the intro to "No Presents for Christmas". Now that the room had finally cleared out a bit, some of the remaining fans started a mosh pit -- could you blame them? After all, this was Halloween and Christmas for them, rolled into one.

Article and photos by Steve Nelson