Pinball machine theme.
Rip.
Ka-chunk.
Here's the thing. I don't know that the person who psychically designed
this
album will ever hear it.... you see.... he was deaf, dumb, and blind......
BUT... when he powered up a pinball machine.... he... umm.... had a supple
wrist.
yup, this is the music that tommy heard in his head. harder. faster.
badder.
like nothing you ever wanted to hear... but damn is it good.... fucking
nitrous oxide of the mind.... all i can bother to tell you about the band
is
they have paid their dues.... the bassist is hot as fuck.... the
vocalist/guitardude is like trapped in a ted nugent inferiority
complex....
but he surpassed nuge long before.... dude's like out of control... not
just
wang-dang-poontang.... but wangbamalamapoontahmoofungoboogielicious.
now. a note about karen... cuz lord knows i love hot bass players... she's
even hotter then that... like her tongue could launch a thousand screaming
fanboys.
ruyter (blaine's wife) is a cutie too.... but man does that not matter....
these musicians could be an ugly ass bunch of warthogs and their music
would
still smoke.... start this fucker up add a keg of beer and hit the replay
button. I couldn't begin to tell you how much I enjoy it.... the whole
hardrock mantra crap they sent me is fairly decent.... but i just want you
to know.... if i had dwarves' blood guts and pussy and this one to choose
from.... i'd have to think about it a minute...... not that they're as
insane as the dwarves were.... but they rock so fucking hard you forget
that
they aren't fucking nutso.
now. nutso. the ball just dropped out the bottom.... but i got 4 more to
launch.
Rip.
Ka-chunk.
These motherfuckers will keep you entertained for at least a roadtrip to
lake havasu.... daytona... or whereever the fuck else you might decide to
pump them in yer truck. now... while i don't have a truck.... i have an
awfully sweet car stereo and it make my mirrors bump rhythmically.... not
talkin' spasmodically or vibratorily here.... they bump. boom boom boom
shaka boom. better then even my public enemy fave yo! bum rush the show.
how cool are they? cooler then the ed lover dance.
cooler then a giant truckload of milwaukee's best.... now... while that's
a
pretty sick image there.... a full fucking truckload of it would certainly
make up for the fact that it tastes like fucking dogpuke.
they're cooler then that though...
they definitely are part of my modern rock'n'roll cosmos.... they've spent
a
few years onstage tearing up jaded audiences.... and i imagine getting in
a
few fights.... it shows.... fuckers are menacing and lethal....
fuck.
Rip.
Ka-chunk.
All you gotta know for sure about this album is that I wouldn't part with
it
for anything less then a vintage Black Knight William's pinball machine.
You
see... it's a promo copy... and chances of me ever finding another one are
infinitesimal.... i wouldn't loan it out... i wouldn't let you touch
it....
i wouldn't even take it to a party unless i was able to sit by the box for
40:09 minutes and keep anyone from spilling beer on it or dropping it on
some beastie boys dreck. Piss and moan all you want.... you've got to go
buy
your own copy.... i'm not going to let you touch mine. If you don't like
it.... you can choke on a motley crüe lp and go watch nikki sixx attend a
junior college. The songs. should touch upon them a little bit.... titles
like raisin hell again, hate and whisky, good night for a heartattack and
the coolest cover in modern southern rock history...... nutbush city
limits.
fuckin' owns.... lots and lots and lots of backbeat in all of them.... fat
bass licks in the entire thing... lyrics that bludgeon rather then
convince
you of any emotional balance rather then rage, hate and slam...... BUT...
THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT THEY WERE AIMING AT.
heh. extra ball.
Rip.
Ka-chunk.
You'll think... hmmm... should i spend my money on ANOTHER heavy rock
band.... i mean shit... i've got white zombie... fear... dwarves...
pantera... and all the dio black sabbath albums.... why should i
bother.....
here's why... because you'd have to put all of those on at once to
approach
the level of narf that these guys (gals) reach.... they aren't exactly
worried about impressing you with their erudition or lyrical aplomb (the
way
led zeppelin were) nor are they trying to satan you all out like dio
is/was.... they just happen to rock n' roll pretty fucking hard and know
it. humor is one of their characteristics.... some shit about god sending
down a bunch of monkeys and a superchimp to whip their ass (heh.) they
deserve an extra bottle of jack daniels for this album.... maybe even
two...
maybe even three.... not that they need it.
now. me? i almost didn't want to hear them again.... not that i don't love
the hellraisin' aspect that they wear as a soulgarment... but i really had
to lay off the booze for a couple days after discoverin' the wonder of
finlaggan (a sweetass islay scotch that runs fer like 16.99 in my neck of
the woods) it not only is tasty as fuck in itself..... but damn does it
improve the quality of lesser blends when added to them. of course... i
had
to try it with a few... and boyyy did it work. this here album has nothing
to do with finlaggan.... or scotch.... or anything but a rippin' bad
metal/hardrock/pissdrunk southern rock.
k. down to muh fifth ball.
Rip.
Ka-chunk.
what would elvis think? I personally think elvis would probably make a
fried
banana and peanutbutter sandwich to it then bulldoze a neighbor's house
fer
yuks to it.... and that's sayin' a fuck of a lot.
the cover of nutbush city limits is so fucking kind that you have to
wonder
one simple thing.... is ike turner gunna incarnate again? fucker whupped
on
his wife... whupped on his bandmates... probably shot a couple of
people....
used... smoked.... and sold drugs for years... dui'd... maybe a couple hit
n' runs.... maybe even offed a couple hookers..... so.... is ike going to
go
to heaven? doubtful... is he going to go to hell? welp.... probably....
but
the devil might just want him back here to do more damage to the GREAT
NATION OF AMERICA. and if he did.... it's very very likely that he'd come
back to the earth as blaine and ruyter's kid... it'd be the right home
environment... empties everywhere.... huge dickhead neighbors.... bimbos
running around naked whenever ruyter ain't home... pissed off manager
showing up demanding another tour so the taxman won't start lookin' too
close at her books.... and like a 12 foot glass bong to break as soon as
he
hits his terrible twos. I think that while they may not give birth to the
antichrist.... they're at least looking at the reincarnation of ike
turner.
god help us all.
k.... there's one ball left in the game if anyone wants to play it... me?
i'm gunna go whomp me up a fried banana and peanut butter sannich.
cheers!
Doc
