(But first…)
Before I begin, I need to tell you that issue #9 of Book Worms Horror Zine is out now. The theme: FOLK HORROR.Limited. Analog only.
Show 1: Shonen Knife — September 27th, Sellersville Theater, Sellersville, PA
Show 2: Castle Rat — October 5th, Music Hall of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NY
Before we get started, let me give you a quick introduction to the two bands.
First, we have Shonen Knife — a Japanese pop-punk band formed in Osaka in 1981 by sisters Naoko and Atsuko Yamano. They’re known for their upbeat, Ramones-style sound mixed with bubblegum pop melodies and lyrics about food, animals, and everyday fun — think songs like “Banana Chips” and “Riding on the Rocket.” Their cheerful, DIY energy stood out in contrast to the darker punk scene of the time. Kurt Cobain was a huge fan — Nirvana even had them open for their 1991 U.S. tour — which helped Shonen Knife gain cult status internationally. They’re basically the most joyful band to ever come out of punk.
Then there’s Castle Rat, a fantasy-themed doom metal band from New York City, formed in 2019. They blend heavy riffs with medieval theatrics and are fronted by The Rat Queen (Riley Pinkerton). The band performs as mythic characters — complete with armor, swords, and ritual battles — creating a world where metal meets myth. Their music channels classic doom and traditional heavy metal in the spirit of Black Sabbath and Judas Priest. A Castle Rat show feels like part concert, part dark fantasy play. They’ve built a cult following, had a viral Kickstarter, and are masters of world-building. Castle Rat isn’t just a band — they’re a full-blown metal saga brought to life.
So there you have it. The common denominator? Fun.
I originally had tickets to see Shonen Knife in Brooklyn, but when I saw they were playing just 45 minutes from home, I sold the Brooklyn ticket and bought one for Sellersville instead. That turned out to be a wise move — especially considering it took me two and a half hours to get to Brooklyn for Castle Rat a week later. Totally my fault. I should’ve left earlier, but life got in the way.
Sellersville is one of those small Pennsylvania towns where you half expect to see an old general store still selling penny candy and raccoon hats. The drive gets more wooded as you go—like you’re entering a Grimm Brothers GPS dead zone. My phone was dying, my charger wasn’t cooperating, and I started mentally preparing for the possibility of living the rest of my life with a family of squirrels.
The Sellersville Theater has just under 300 seats — intimate, cozy, and lovingly restored.
When I walked in, the merch table was to the right. I grabbed an autographed copy of Shonen Knife’s latest album on vinyl for $30 — a steal. The crowd skewed older, which is when I first started feeling my own age creeping up on me. I was 21 when Shonen Knife was opening for Nirvana. I was in a band myself back then. You walk in expecting to feel that youthful energy again — then you see old punks struggling up the aisle with canes. It was more like punk matinee energy.
Still, everyone was polite, seated, and there to have a good time — no moshing, no chaos, just vibes. Except for the people glued to their phones. I’ll never understand that. If you pay to see a live show, watch the show. Don’t scroll through Instagram while a legendary band is right in front of you.
Despite the existential dread creeping in, Shonen Knife’s performance was pure joy. They were energetic, funny, and somehow felt younger than the audience. It was an absolute blast — even if it came with a side of mortality.
I went alone, which I usually prefer. I like being able to move at my own pace — especially in museums or places where I don’t want to rush. But concerts are better with a friend. Still, no regrets.
The opening act, The Pack A.D., was… awkward. They’re a duo — singer/guitarist Becky Black and drummer Maya Miller. The drummer did all the talking, but it felt forced, like they’d just had a fight before walking onstage. The music didn’t help either. Let’s just say, if you’re going to play sloppy punk, it better be fun sloppy. This was not.
Shonen Knife ended their set with “Top of the World” by The Carpenters — a song that hits me right in the nostalgia. Their version was as joyful as ever, and it sent everyone out smiling. I drove home through the dark, tree-lined roads of Bucks County feeling happy — and just a little haunted by the passage of time.
From Quiet Streets to Chainmail and Chaos
Now let’s talk about Castle Rat.
The drive to Brooklyn took 2.5 hours — expected, but still brutal. I listened to Castle Rat’s entire discography on the way, twice through, to get in the mood. I met my friend Jake at the venue — the Music Hall of Williamsburg — where the doors opened at 7. I even found free street parking, which felt like a Brooklyn miracle.
Inside, I scoped out the merch table. They had autographed vinyl for $100. Compared to Shonen Knife’s $30 signed album, that was a hard pass. Jake convinced me to wait on buying anything anyway, and we grabbed a great spot to watch. Standing room only — no seats, no assigned rows. Just a floor and a crowd.
The first opener was GUHTS (yes, with an H). Jake suspected that GUTS was already taken. GUHTS was sludgy — and not in a good way. Their sound was so muddy it felt like wading through a swamp. The singer screamed better than she sang, but the whole thing felt off.
Next up: Heavy Temple, from Philly, was better but uneven. The bassist/vocalist had some cool moments, but the guitar player never stopped soloing long enough to let her breathe. When they got into instrumental jams, though, they were killer.
Then came Castle Rat — and the place exploded. The crowd was young, wild, and fully committed. Some were dressed in chainmail. Some were barely dressed, with a few women going topless. It was some scene.
For the first few songs, I felt young again — until the heat, the crowd, and my lungs reminded me otherwise. Claustrophobia hit fast. I fought my way out, bought an absurdly expensive bottle of water, and watched the rest of the show from the back. Honestly, there wasn’t a bad spot in the small venue, and the sound was even better where I ended up. Bonus: I could breathe.
Castle Rat put on one hell of a show — swords, smoke, and pure theater. They’re young, fearless, and full of ambition. I’m thrilled to have discovered them this early in their career. Their new album is fantastic, and their live show is worth every penny. I’ll take a $25 ticket to a band like Castle Rat over paying $300 to see Sting any day of the week.
Jake ended up in the mosh pit during “Dagger Dragger,” while I stayed in the back nursing my dignity (and my water). We met back up to catch the encore together, and I grabbed the vinyl for $30 on my way out. I am happy to report that it was a quick, smooth drive home.
More shows are coming up — and I’ll write about those soon.
Take it easy,
James