The Stranger:
Onstage, the Murder City Devils frontman Spencer Moody is a ball of booze-burning fire, staggering around and screaming about heartache and rotgut and punk rock, while his band tear garage rock ‘n’ roll a new one with equal fury. Offstage, Moody is soft- spoken, articulate, almost mousy—and he’s more than a little ambivalent about the recurring reunion of his R.I.P.’d and revered band. “I get down on the Murder City Devils sometimes,” says Moody from behind his desk at the Anne Bonny, his Capitol Hill antique shop and art gallery. “I just fucking dread the fact—it is a nightmare to me—that I’m going to have to listen to these songs over and over again to try to relearn them. But then, when I actually start listening to the songs that we’ve discussed playing, I like them. I don’t feel particularly nostalgic, but I think it’s a pretty good band, and some of the songs are pretty good.”

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