State of Shock

"When I can get past the whole fact that I'm a girl and he just wants to fuck me," adds Graves, "when I can actually have a conversation with him, he's really sweet."

"If it wasn't C.C. Deville, I would reach through the phone and kill this guy," finishes Edward. "He's so rock-and-roll. I want him to be our fucking guitar player. He'd fit great on the new CD."

They're creepy and they're kooky: Raimond Scott (from left), Daisy Grave, Charles Edward and Mark Harvey are Seraphim Shock.

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With the Mansfields and Bad Luck City, 8 p.m. Friday, January 9, Ogden Theatre, 935 East Colfax Avenue, $12, 303-830-2525

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More About

• Charles Edward
• Poison (Musical Group)
• C.C. DeVille
• Sex Vegas
• Heavy Metal

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With a rejuvenated roster including drummer Clem Cthulhu -- currently on loan from the popular Wisconsin industrial-trash combo Electric Hellfire Club -- as well as guitarist Raimond Scott and keyboardist Mark Harvey, Seraphim Shock appears to have a stable lineup once again. On Halloween Sex N Vegas, though, Edward played the lion's share of the instruments himself, including guitar, which he only picked up six months ago, out of frustration.

"I still don't know what the fuck I'm doing," Edward admits. "I don't feel like this band has ever reached its potential. Face it: We're a cult act at best. We play toilet tours. That's the reality. There was definitely a period a couple years ago where I wanted to put a gun in someone's face, I was so disillusioned with the band and everything that was going on in my life. But things are back on track now, and I feel good working with these guys.

"Still," he sums up, "I don't really consider myself a musician. I'm a songwriter. And whether it's more punk-influenced or goth or metal or pop or whatever, I'm not really concerned with fitting into anything. I know people have always been, 'Oh, Seraphim Shock is so gothic,' and probably rightly so -- at least back in the day. The whole spooky thing just came out by itself; it's just a part of what I do. Now, though, I just want to write good songs."

But don't think that Edward's professed vocation of songwriter means he's about to start pumping out some toothless, neutered, Sting-type pabulum. "I'm 34, and I'm pissed as hell," he contends. "I'm still breathing fire." And although he's saying this through a stuffy nose and decades of hard-knock-induced humility, he still sounds pretty damned convincing.