Black Pimp'n Jesus

David Jenkin
Even before the first band started playing for the Battle of the Bands at Roxy’s Rhythm Bar in Melville, there was a heavy atmosphere in the club, and clearly something more than music was at stake ... or so I was told.
“There’s a war going on here tonight!” screamed the lead singer of Zaltara (pictured), a proudly Christian band and the first act of the evening.
Although there were four bands competing, the competition was really between just two of them: Zaltara and Black Pimping Jesus, a proudly non-Christian group. Two vastly different crowds were in attendance, mixing like water and oil. As Zaltara began to play, the dynamics were obvious. In front of the stage was a bright and energetic group, cheering and clapping, and at one point, joining arms and swaying from side to side.
They were watched by a perhaps equally large group who remained static in the shadows, smoking and drinking and passing comments.
Zaltara were neat in appearance, playing music with plenty of energy and good rhythms. The singer frequently reminded his audience what his band was all about, and between songs handed out T-shirts with the words “fock evil” printed on them. Huh?
Later, when Black Pimping Jesus (BPJ) took the stage, there was a complete reversal. One group moved forward while the other retreated. Tattoos and piercings dominated as a band that looked reminiscent of a young Led Zeppelin or Black Sabbath set up their instruments. BPJ, as they are commonly known, had a far stronger stage presence. The lead singer emphasised (amongst a barrage of foul language) that their approach wasn’t about religion – it was about the people and their music, which turned out to be superior.
Their grungy style of rock is infectious, filled with heavy riffs and blistering drums and guitars.
The crowd (their crowd) loved every minute of it. BPJ clearly put a great deal more emphasis on their music than anything else.
Zaltara, on the other hand, used music as a tool for preaching. But, in a music competition, it should be the music that is judged.
As a well-organised event, it was strange that the voting system wasn’t a bit more thought-out. No announcements were made about how or where to vote and it seemed that the judgment was made purely by the relative amount of support.
Everyone was shouting for their favourite, creating a storm of chaotic noise, but it was decided that Zaltara were the winners.
What followed this was an outburst of frustration that threatened to become physical. Abuse was hurled back and forth, but to no avail. The decision was made and the non-believers had been defeated.