Doc Martian's Lounge: September 2005

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Nashville Pussy - Get Some!
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