The ’90s were pretty freakin’ cool. Culture coughed up some of the last seedy, dirty things before the regime change came and turned it all into abstinence, straight-edge, and boy bands.

I was introduced to My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult via The Crow soundtrack. I would describe their sound as Ministry meets Lords of Acid. So, loud and dirty.

I enter DNA Lounge, take a breath, and utter “my people”. My friend says, “I’ve never seen so much black in my life”. Manson and Reznor attracted the ‘normal people’ spectators, but this was all goth, all the time.

It’s so dark in there we can barely make out anyone’s faces. Therefore, we can’t even people watch as we chat during the lukewarm DJ set.

The set starts with ‘Burning Dirt’- a promise that they will murder tonight. The promise was mostly kept.

Groovie Man was decked out, albeit, as my friend appropriately pegged, it was a bit ‘Zoolander’. It was one part goth, one part Eurotrash. He was missing the cowboy hat, but he was still, nonetheless, an electric performer.

The second song was one of my faves, ‘A Daisy Chain 4 Satan’. As I was enjoying the danger dungeon dance club vibe, I was like, where’s the chick? As the song wraps, out strolls the Pepper Somerset, current acting domanatrix back up vocalist.

Then the rest of the set becomes a syrupy blend of industrial beats and wails, except for a revamped version of ‘After the Flesh’, which I didn’t dig as much as the original, and ‘Sex on Wheels’. I have a strong sense that the back up vocals are being lip synched, and Pepper is just there for eye candy.

The goths mosh in their own way, balancing somewhere in between not too brutal and not wimpy. The girls get knocked around in their strange, constricting outfits.

Groovie wears sunglasses. A few times he slides them down his nose or lifts them up, and he looks like he’s been punched in the eyes by two bottles of everclear. Make that absinthe. I can deal with the old manish tummy peeking through the torn leotard fishnet thing- Iggy Pop broke me in on that one- but the eyes I cannot handle. Superglue the Oakleys to your face, and let’s pretend that 15 hard years haven’t passed.

They play a fairly long set for coming on in the thirteenth hour on a Sunday, and we emerge from the dungeon close to 2. The dawn of the week and real life are fast approaching, and I remember that it is not the ’90s anymore.

The Crow performance:

OVERALL: 8.5/10
TKK performance: 8/10
venue (DNA Lounge): 7.5/10
crowd/scene: 8.5/10
value ($13.00/ticket): 9/10
memorable: 8/10