Anyway here's our soulful video of the week. ENJOY!!
-Re-Pete
Friday, October 23, 2009
High Speed Ballard Car Chase
So I change lanes right.
And the mother fucker 50 yards behind me wanted to go faster than me so he veers around on my right, flips me the bird and... were off!
This is pre-Ballard Bridge headed north on 15th
This is also pre-Tractor Tavern gig
So i think me and douche bag are all cool because although I honked at his peacock, i didnt flash him or tailgate him or anything all from Queen Anne up until we were on the Ballard Bridge. Thats when shit got REAL!
I turn on my right turn signal 100 feet prior to my intended turning spot in order to overcompensate for my peoples' stereotypically bad driving behavior. That whole 100ft was actually bull shit used to make the funny Asian joke. I actually turned the signal on like 5 seconds ahead of the Leary exit. Curiously enough, when I so, Buddy Guy Douchy Mofo quicky did the same and cut me off on the offramp. Then he takes up both lanes and 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... SLAMS ON HIS DAMN BRAKES! So Im only going about 15mph on this ramp, but either thats not slow enough or im not fast enough on the brakes and booty tap this mother fucker with my trusty ole' '86 626. Im pissed and pretty damn confused about this guy being so mad he had to make me rear end him.
*note: this is the point where rationality has left the building. shit you not, i no longer had control over my shit
So the dude pulls off to the right and I honestly figure, he did his deed and since his car was a POS also, I kept on my way, took a left on leary, and started heading towards Ballard Ave. when I see the guys lights fast approaching (reference aforementioned note). I immediately go into flight mode and start running away from this guy. First im going North on Ballard, then I take a quick left on 21st, a right on Shoshol (or however the hell that damned street is spelled), and back up 22nd, left on Ballard, back down toward Shitshow (damnit) and am stopped in my tracks by a car that doesnt know how to turn right when i want it to because im being chased by a damn lunatic!
So the bird flippin douche dippin crazy trippin dude cuts me off before i can turn right onto Shamebow, flips me the cockatoo again and yells at me reminding me that i rear ended him. So i start playing Sherrades (Charrades? Cher? Chaka Khan?) and do that circular arm motion that might signal to your bff of all bffs that you want his window to be rolled down. Motherfucker aint good at petting Sharpees.
So we pull over pretty much a block away from the Tractor's ass to "talk shit over." Now take note, I'm a pussy. I don't ever wanna get in a fight really. I don't like threatening shit, I dont like war, I don't like the Saw movies, or clips of Sarah Pailin talking about Cowboys and Indians in front of a turkey slaughter. That being said, I turn my car off and walk up to the guys car making sure i have my hands in the air in what I'm guessing one would do to let a crazy piece of chest grade shit know that youre not looking for no trouble. So the guy again reminds me that i rear ended him, and i remind him that that argument might fly in 1st grade, but in the real world, he intentionally put both of us in danger by the shit he was doing with his car.
And so i say, so i says to him, I says, "What do you want from me [expletive] you [expletive] [expletive-ing] flamingo! I gotta get somewhere (knitting class with the girls). What do you want from me?!" He looks at me, looks down at his steering wheel, looks at me again, and without ever stepping otu of his car or even turning the darn thing off says, "Go get where you gotta get."
...
...
...
And that was it. From there i got lost around Ballard and looped around the same blocks that i was just 5 minutes ago racing down for my life, and finally ended up at the Tractor's pearly gates for load in. Pete hugged and consoled me, and then we pranced around stage for ya'lls pleasure, while honest to god, singing leave me alone, a lone tear trickled down my jaundiced cheek whilst i thoguht in my head "why would he (whimper) just (whimper) leave me alone..."
True. God Damned. Story.
Safely and Soundly Blogging at 4 am,
Nascar Champ Jason
And the mother fucker 50 yards behind me wanted to go faster than me so he veers around on my right, flips me the bird and... were off!
This is pre-Ballard Bridge headed north on 15th
This is also pre-Tractor Tavern gig
So i think me and douche bag are all cool because although I honked at his peacock, i didnt flash him or tailgate him or anything all from Queen Anne up until we were on the Ballard Bridge. Thats when shit got REAL!
I turn on my right turn signal 100 feet prior to my intended turning spot in order to overcompensate for my peoples' stereotypically bad driving behavior. That whole 100ft was actually bull shit used to make the funny Asian joke. I actually turned the signal on like 5 seconds ahead of the Leary exit. Curiously enough, when I so, Buddy Guy Douchy Mofo quicky did the same and cut me off on the offramp. Then he takes up both lanes and 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... SLAMS ON HIS DAMN BRAKES! So Im only going about 15mph on this ramp, but either thats not slow enough or im not fast enough on the brakes and booty tap this mother fucker with my trusty ole' '86 626. Im pissed and pretty damn confused about this guy being so mad he had to make me rear end him.
*note: this is the point where rationality has left the building. shit you not, i no longer had control over my shit
So the dude pulls off to the right and I honestly figure, he did his deed and since his car was a POS also, I kept on my way, took a left on leary, and started heading towards Ballard Ave. when I see the guys lights fast approaching (reference aforementioned note). I immediately go into flight mode and start running away from this guy. First im going North on Ballard, then I take a quick left on 21st, a right on Shoshol (or however the hell that damned street is spelled), and back up 22nd, left on Ballard, back down toward Shitshow (damnit) and am stopped in my tracks by a car that doesnt know how to turn right when i want it to because im being chased by a damn lunatic!
So the bird flippin douche dippin crazy trippin dude cuts me off before i can turn right onto Shamebow, flips me the cockatoo again and yells at me reminding me that i rear ended him. So i start playing Sherrades (Charrades? Cher? Chaka Khan?) and do that circular arm motion that might signal to your bff of all bffs that you want his window to be rolled down. Motherfucker aint good at petting Sharpees.
So we pull over pretty much a block away from the Tractor's ass to "talk shit over." Now take note, I'm a pussy. I don't ever wanna get in a fight really. I don't like threatening shit, I dont like war, I don't like the Saw movies, or clips of Sarah Pailin talking about Cowboys and Indians in front of a turkey slaughter. That being said, I turn my car off and walk up to the guys car making sure i have my hands in the air in what I'm guessing one would do to let a crazy piece of chest grade shit know that youre not looking for no trouble. So the guy again reminds me that i rear ended him, and i remind him that that argument might fly in 1st grade, but in the real world, he intentionally put both of us in danger by the shit he was doing with his car.
And so i say, so i says to him, I says, "What do you want from me [expletive] you [expletive] [expletive-ing] flamingo! I gotta get somewhere (knitting class with the girls). What do you want from me?!" He looks at me, looks down at his steering wheel, looks at me again, and without ever stepping otu of his car or even turning the darn thing off says, "Go get where you gotta get."
...
...
...
And that was it. From there i got lost around Ballard and looped around the same blocks that i was just 5 minutes ago racing down for my life, and finally ended up at the Tractor's pearly gates for load in. Pete hugged and consoled me, and then we pranced around stage for ya'lls pleasure, while honest to god, singing leave me alone, a lone tear trickled down my jaundiced cheek whilst i thoguht in my head "why would he (whimper) just (whimper) leave me alone..."
True. God Damned. Story.
Safely and Soundly Blogging at 4 am,
Nascar Champ Jason
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The Tractor Tavern and a High Speed Ballard Car Chase
First of all. Holler holler to all of you sexy fellas and felines who came out to the Tractor show last night. I had a hell of a time in them tight ass pants (don't worry Juggs, we'll discuss their elasticity)! Fucking fantastic that so many of you cool cats stayed and had a good time on such a groovy Tuesday night. Special thanks to the Horde and the Harem for booking the gig and for filling my soul with such sweet sweet harmonies, and the Tractor Tavern itself for being such a kick ass venue. Also, it was a treat as tasty as a slice of the most heavenly white chocolate chocolate cake to play with Elba, and the spicy ladies of Another Perfect Crime. Its a damn pleasure to play at such an esteemed place where such rockin sockin non-teeny boppin bands have played. Last time i got to check out a show at the tavern, I got to shake my hips to these guys, like i was back down south in New Orleans!
Shoutouts:
Juggsie Howerton
Emiree
Jimbo Soy Latte
Dr. Guy & Special Guest Claire
626 friends
The Minnesota Twins: Melanie and Laura
Betty and the Dancin Devils
Weston, weston, weston, Sara and crew
of course Bob bob bob
Dave the Brave Albertson
Philana the love of my life Goodrich
and (Insert your name here) because sometimes heroin makes you forget...
The world will reward you for your sexy asses (because i sure cant afford to)
Shit, gotta get to the coffee shop. The Ballard Car Chase episode will have to happen tomorrow morning. Till then, check out Sweet Pete's link to the "Ballard Driving School" on his last post.
Much love,
J-Money
Shoutouts:
Juggsie Howerton
Emiree
Jimbo Soy Latte
Dr. Guy & Special Guest Claire
626 friends
The Minnesota Twins: Melanie and Laura
Betty and the Dancin Devils
Weston, weston, weston, Sara and crew
of course Bob bob bob
Dave the Brave Albertson
Philana the love of my life Goodrich
and (Insert your name here) because sometimes heroin makes you forget...
The world will reward you for your sexy asses (because i sure cant afford to)
Shit, gotta get to the coffee shop. The Ballard Car Chase episode will have to happen tomorrow morning. Till then, check out Sweet Pete's link to the "Ballard Driving School" on his last post.
Much love,
J-Money
Friday, October 16, 2009
Tractor Tavern?!
Hey folks,
If you actually read this blog, you've probably been to one of our nights at the Redline. But next Tuesday there's an opportunity to see something special. We're playing at the one and only Tractor Tavern! For those who have never been, the Tractor is known for putting on great acts - local and national - in the style of blues/folk/jazz/etc. I, myself, have seen a few great shows there including Stanton Moore, Rebirth Brass Band, and the Dusty 45's.
So not only are we lucky enough to be playing there but we got our name/picture in the TT ad in the Stranger! It might not seem like a big deal to you guys but we're pretty stoked about it. Someday when we're a bigger act and play shows like this all the time having our name and picture in the paper will be no big deal but today, this is a big deal.
You know what else is a big deal? People who come to watch us perform (you). Seriously, Jason and I talk at length after every show about who came and how awesome it was to see them at our show. And occasionally we laugh at their dance moves/drunkenness but mostly we share our appreciation.
And it's not just us performing Tuesday. Also seen that evening will be The Horde & The Harem, Another Perfect Crime, and Elba.
So here's our top ten list of reasons why you should pay $6 to see us at the Tractor next Tuesday even though you can see us for free at the Redline:
1. Ballard is way closer to where you live.
2. The sound system at the TT is stellar and will make us sound even more awesome than we normally do.
3. You can hang out at King's before and down a few $2 Rainiers.
4. It's a Tuesday so you'll actually find a place to park on Ballard Ave!
5. The lights are a little dimmer so Jason's bad haircut and my skin rash are slightly less noticeable.
6. WE GOT OUR FRICKIN' PICTURE IN THE PAPER!
7. More people in Ballard are going to appreciate/get your ironic t-shirt than the weirdoes hanging out at the bus stop outside the Redline.
8. You can brag to all your coworkers on Wednesday about staying up late and drinking on a Tuesday after being drunk all of last weekend at Goldie's on 45th.
9. Your roommate will finally understand that the West Seattle Pleasure Club is a band, not a sketchy club on Delridge Way because he/she has actually heard of the Tractor.
10. We've got a special cover we're starting our set with dedicated to all the Seattle hipsters . . .
Mr. Pete
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Riff Rock. All. Day. Long.
Album Review No. 2 of 1
Artist: Earl Greyhound
Album: Soft Targets
I'm not sure what I like more about this band, the music or their super-cool 1970's style. It's like the Jimi Hendrix Experience only backwards. Awesome frontman/guitarist Matt Whyte (who happens to be white) will you bring you to tears with his shredding. Meanwhile he's got a great drummer who looks like a cross between Mr. T and Lenny Kravitz. The bass player, well, let's just say her value to the band has little to do with actually playing the bass.
I've never seen them live but I want to. They look and sound like a party. Not to mention they're on tour with JJ Grey & Mofro, one of my favs.
Is Soft Targets an accurate representation of what they sound like live? Probably not but that’s not a bad thing. In fact it rarely is. They recognize the difference between albums and gigs and in my humble opinion have mastered the recorded side.
My only question is: after 5 years on a label and 3 years since releasing their album, why are they still relatively obscure?
Now c’mon Jason. Let’s pile into the ‘69 Camaro and go for a ride! This album makes me want to be the (soft?) target of a police chase.
Artist: Earl Greyhound
Album: Soft Targets
Wednesday October 7th, 12:16pm
I'm not sure what I like more about this band, the music or their super-cool 1970's style. It's like the Jimi Hendrix Experience only backwards. Awesome frontman/guitarist Matt Whyte (who happens to be white) will you bring you to tears with his shredding. Meanwhile he's got a great drummer who looks like a cross between Mr. T and Lenny Kravitz. The bass player, well, let's just say her value to the band has little to do with actually playing the bass.
I've never seen them live but I want to. They look and sound like a party. Not to mention they're on tour with JJ Grey & Mofro, one of my favs.
Is Soft Targets an accurate representation of what they sound like live? Probably not but that’s not a bad thing. In fact it rarely is. They recognize the difference between albums and gigs and in my humble opinion have mastered the recorded side.
My only question is: after 5 years on a label and 3 years since releasing their album, why are they still relatively obscure?
Now c’mon Jason. Let’s pile into the ‘69 Camaro and go for a ride! This album makes me want to be the (soft?) target of a police chase.
1:14pm
Hey hey hey now, she may be a foxey lady
but her bass riffin aint all that shady
though id love for her to be akin a-skin a-mybed-in to miss woods
this albums too wicked for shoulda woulda buddha coulds
Gotta say for my favorite tune
listenin took from dawn till noon till the rise of the moon
eight minutes forty seconds...
r.kelly bein trapped in the closet is the next step i reckon
but like my soul mate my room mate my play mate states
aint no room for riff raff when riff rocks waitin at the gates
But wait, it aint all just notes matin rhythm hittin chords hatin schisms
Between the rock and the roll and the have mercy and the umph
When you thought you coldn't take it no more
"It got all better now." "Its over." check the score. triumph,
For the poppity rock, rockitty pop
"Two weeks" got my head like a plastic ichiro, Bobbidy bop.
Eat a turkey sandwich, drink coke in a glass
put on your headphones and enjoy your ass
Cause its shapely and round like the "good" soothing sounds
of john paul ringo and george find their way into the tunes of the hounds
and exiting stage right and as she came back in through the window
i feelt like im bowin down like a shinto at a temp-o
lest i diverge. its beautiful how earl gray poochies converge
the dirty dirty and the singing birds.
you're groovin downstairs senor pedro de gringo
and like the album before us, got hints of ringo
on spot sweet pete
proses too weak, wont do the trick
soft targets got me high on this floetic poetic kick
but too much tea, too much coffee, too much water, i gotta tinko
to wrap it up, i love this album as good as ocho cinco love ocho cinco.
pedro...
but her bass riffin aint all that shady
though id love for her to be akin a-skin a-mybed-in to miss woods
this albums too wicked for shoulda woulda buddha coulds
Gotta say for my favorite tune
listenin took from dawn till noon till the rise of the moon
eight minutes forty seconds...
r.kelly bein trapped in the closet is the next step i reckon
but like my soul mate my room mate my play mate states
aint no room for riff raff when riff rocks waitin at the gates
But wait, it aint all just notes matin rhythm hittin chords hatin schisms
Between the rock and the roll and the have mercy and the umph
When you thought you coldn't take it no more
"It got all better now." "Its over." check the score. triumph,
For the poppity rock, rockitty pop
"Two weeks" got my head like a plastic ichiro, Bobbidy bop.
Eat a turkey sandwich, drink coke in a glass
put on your headphones and enjoy your ass
Cause its shapely and round like the "good" soothing sounds
of john paul ringo and george find their way into the tunes of the hounds
and exiting stage right and as she came back in through the window
i feelt like im bowin down like a shinto at a temp-o
lest i diverge. its beautiful how earl gray poochies converge
the dirty dirty and the singing birds.
you're groovin downstairs senor pedro de gringo
and like the album before us, got hints of ringo
on spot sweet pete
proses too weak, wont do the trick
soft targets got me high on this floetic poetic kick
but too much tea, too much coffee, too much water, i gotta tinko
to wrap it up, i love this album as good as ocho cinco love ocho cinco.
pedro...
2.48pm
How the hell am I supposed to respond to that?
Best song: “Two Weeks”
For those who like to rock . . . this album is for you. Don’t worry, it’s clean and accessible – studded belts and leather jackets are optional. But bring your can of Sparks ‘cause this album is not for casual listening. It’s fun, loud, and heavy. Like a mix between Mr. T and Lenny Kravitz.
And if Earl Greyhound is coming to play your town with JJ Grey & Mofro, don’t miss it. For anything.
Go ahead, J. You can have the last word. Or should I say stanza?
Sincerely,
Pete Marley
Best song: “Two Weeks”
For those who like to rock . . . this album is for you. Don’t worry, it’s clean and accessible – studded belts and leather jackets are optional. But bring your can of Sparks ‘cause this album is not for casual listening. It’s fun, loud, and heavy. Like a mix between Mr. T and Lenny Kravitz.
And if Earl Greyhound is coming to play your town with JJ Grey & Mofro, don’t miss it. For anything.
Go ahead, J. You can have the last word. Or should I say stanza?
Sincerely,
Pete Marley
Thursday October 8th, 1.53am
Stanza Bonanaza
Im gonna eat some Chyuna in a Cananza.
Soft Target is definitely one of the most fun albums i've listened to in a good while. Up there with Raphael Saadiq's 'The Way I See It,' JJ Grey and MoFro's 'Orange Blossoms,' and Jamie Lidell's 'Multiply.'
From a songwriting perspective, Los Greyhounds have mucho grande juevos, in presenting such a variety of song styles and structure. They make it work...HARD.
Any takers on the Word Sculpture Play Contest? How about the Whipped Seattleite Pansy Crack? Or the White Scarved Puppy Cupcake? Wet Shat Poop Chalupa?
Teacher Jason OUT.
Hope you enjoyed the rant. Go check out the album yourself and tell us what you think in the "Comments" Section. Sometimes talking shit to each other gets boring. Itd be great to let out some steam on you.
xoxoxo,
The Pleasure Club
Im gonna eat some Chyuna in a Cananza.
Soft Target is definitely one of the most fun albums i've listened to in a good while. Up there with Raphael Saadiq's 'The Way I See It,' JJ Grey and MoFro's 'Orange Blossoms,' and Jamie Lidell's 'Multiply.'
From a songwriting perspective, Los Greyhounds have mucho grande juevos, in presenting such a variety of song styles and structure. They make it work...HARD.
Any takers on the Word Sculpture Play Contest? How about the Whipped Seattleite Pansy Crack? Or the White Scarved Puppy Cupcake? Wet Shat Poop Chalupa?
Teacher Jason OUT.
Hope you enjoyed the rant. Go check out the album yourself and tell us what you think in the "Comments" Section. Sometimes talking shit to each other gets boring. Itd be great to let out some steam on you.
xoxoxo,
The Pleasure Club
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
A few matters of business...
First off...
Shoutout to Jessica "Juggsie" Howerton! Thanks for reading the Most Soulful/Bluesy Rock Blog to ever grace this planet. Theres a free West Seattle Pleasure Club T-Shirt in it for you if you post a comment in the next 48 hours. You got till 2:35am Thursday morning missy!
On that note...
West Seattle Pleasure Club T-Shirts are on sale! While we work on the Online Store @ the official WSPC website (legal note: that link is a joke and we cannot be sued for you lacking a sense of humor). So in the meantime, you can buy one at one of our funtastic live shows. Click here to take a gander at our calendar for shirt buying, hip/ass/head shaking opportunities.
Thirdly...
A huge holler and thank you to all the awesome folks who came out, drank till they stank, and got down and dirty at the Redline this Saturday. Can't say this enough, but we are only as good as our fans are funky. And you guys got stank for days, so I'll be a damn fool but if my math is correct, thanks to you guys, we kick ass!
Lastly...
Stay tuned for more opportunities like Juggsies' to win free shit and/or useless crap if/when occasionally useful tips but/until freaky memorabilia (#5 is my fav). The more you comment, the better your chances! For starters...
WSPC can stand for this or this, sometimes that, and every other saturday, para este. All lame, except for the one you come up with! Come up with an original meaning for "WSPC," the band will vote on it, and if yours is our favorite, you can pick anything... anything at all out of HomeFry's "for when im feeling naughty" lingerie drawer.
Submit your entries as comments to this blog.
Over and out,
Teacher Jason
Shoutout to Jessica "Juggsie" Howerton! Thanks for reading the Most Soulful/Bluesy Rock Blog to ever grace this planet. Theres a free West Seattle Pleasure Club T-Shirt in it for you if you post a comment in the next 48 hours. You got till 2:35am Thursday morning missy!
On that note...
West Seattle Pleasure Club T-Shirts are on sale! While we work on the Online Store @ the official WSPC website (legal note: that link is a joke and we cannot be sued for you lacking a sense of humor). So in the meantime, you can buy one at one of our funtastic live shows. Click here to take a gander at our calendar for shirt buying, hip/ass/head shaking opportunities.
Thirdly...
A huge holler and thank you to all the awesome folks who came out, drank till they stank, and got down and dirty at the Redline this Saturday. Can't say this enough, but we are only as good as our fans are funky. And you guys got stank for days, so I'll be a damn fool but if my math is correct, thanks to you guys, we kick ass!
Lastly...
Stay tuned for more opportunities like Juggsies' to win free shit and/or useless crap if/when occasionally useful tips but/until freaky memorabilia (#5 is my fav). The more you comment, the better your chances! For starters...
WSPC can stand for this or this, sometimes that, and every other saturday, para este. All lame, except for the one you come up with! Come up with an original meaning for "WSPC," the band will vote on it, and if yours is our favorite, you can pick anything... anything at all out of HomeFry's "for when im feeling naughty" lingerie drawer.
Submit your entries as comments to this blog.
Over and out,
Teacher Jason
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Album Review: 1st of 10,003
Album: Howl by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
Reviewers: Teacher Jason and Sweet Pete Albertson
Thursday, October 1, 2009 12:38 PM
"Ain't No Easy Way" is obviously the best song on this album. If anyone says elsewise... well god has an even worse punishment for kittens (and fairys?) than when you yank the tank. Wicked simple guitar riff and lyrics with mucho mucho soul is exactly what im talkin bout. I really dig at the end of the first verse when the second guitar pops in with some high end sweet action. And who cant get off to some good ole' slide gee-tar that takes you right back to that rickety wood front porch where grandpa Rufus would sit and play guitar to you, Ella Mae, Emma Bee and Auntie Ceecee while mama was making sweet tea (oh wait, you're not a black child living in Mississippi in the 30s?). Now to be honest, I couldn't understand a word Peter Hayes (lead vocals) is saying 60% of the time... all the time. So i looked up the lyrics and i gotta say, im glad im not a huge dylan fan. In the second verse:
"It's easy to fall in love
When you're on your luck you know you're done
and the last kiss had a foolish cause
now your tired eyes could only haunt"
That third line is wicked good, but most of the time im just trying to figure out what drugs were being taken during the writing process, where i can get them, and how much do they cost.
Pete...
Thursday, October 1, 2009 1:47 PM
Wait, wait, wait. Your last line (“what drugs were being taken during the writing process . . .”) exactly describes how I feel when I read, well, just about any prose you write. So if you are NOT already on drugs as I assumed, I should probably cancel that intervention we had scheduled for this weekend . . .
On to the review!
“Time won’t save our souls.” This very dramatic opening definitely caught my attention. Usually anything involving the word “soul” does. Unfortunately BRMC lost me shortly thereafter. Why, you ask? Simply put, there is no soul in BRMC. It’s a collection of songs dedicated to melancholy – not blues, despair – not hope, and it sounds British – not southern. For some people, these characteristics are pluses. Not so for me.
The only track worth it’s time is “Weight of the World”. Don’t ask me for the marquee line or anything. I couldn’t understand what the dude was saying either. It’s just a well put together tune for them. But if you want to know what I really think it needs, I’d give it a shot of espresso. Better yet, how about a Mountain Dew . . . shot gunned. Fuck it. The whole album needs a 5-hour Energy and a shot of Cabo Wabo!
It’s just too damn cloudy and rainy on this album.
What say you, Teacher Jason, lover of all Black Rebelious Motorcyclists?
Thursday, October 1, 2009 2:22 PM
Advice received... dopio (double) shot of espresso dumped into my beverage of choice, which after listening to "Weight of the World," happens to be... a cool glass of Jonestown's famous fatal Kool-aid. (Pan cameras down for view of black and white Nike Cortez). Figured the caffeine would speed up the whole shooting up towards god in a spaceship journey. I understand that the song is one well put together, but in terms of its soul, energy, and Souff-ernness, the scoreboard reads "Dead cult followers 1, Weight of the World nill." Its true, I'm tapping my foot while drooling at the Uptown Espresso barista... I'll give you (and the Creepin' Peepin' Toms of West Seattle Association - CPTWSA for short) that, but I believe the papers noted a few post-mortem twitching Nikes as well. You know a well composed tune when you hear one Senor Fuego, pero, good ole' down home folk/blues tunes like the opening "Shuffle Your Feet" is the stuff that gets Uni-testicled bicyclists ahead of the Parisian Pack. Save the Yellow-5 for the live shows you motor-boatin son of a bitch!
So we agree... done with this review? Onto whatevers clever in your books Pedro.
Full stop.
Thursday, October 1, 2009 2:58 PM
Kool-Aid? Really? You are the one, my friend, who has drunk the Kool-Aid. I’m not sure what it is you like so much. This ain’t no down-home-bluesy-soul band. Wait . . . I get it. You think these Black Rebels are actually black. Well I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this but they won’t be opening for Earth, Wind, and Fire anytime soon. Or do you like them because of the fact that they share with us the word “Club” in their name? Trust me Teach, that is where the commonalities end. Have you seen the interviews?! The other bands they play with? Mississippi is not the home of shoegaze/nu-gaze. Ask Wikipedia.
My opinion of this album ought be taken with a grain of salt because I cant stand much of the indie/noise rock/shoegaze genre. For those who need more than a depressing rainy weather driving soundtrack: don’t waste your time illegally downloading Howl. But if you need some tunes at the start of your day while pouring yourself into your skinny sagging black jeans , by all means, ENJOY!
Album: Howl by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
Reviewers: Teacher Jason and Sweet Pete Albertson
Thursday, October 1, 2009 12:38 PM
"Ain't No Easy Way" is obviously the best song on this album. If anyone says elsewise... well god has an even worse punishment for kittens (and fairys?) than when you yank the tank. Wicked simple guitar riff and lyrics with mucho mucho soul is exactly what im talkin bout. I really dig at the end of the first verse when the second guitar pops in with some high end sweet action. And who cant get off to some good ole' slide gee-tar that takes you right back to that rickety wood front porch where grandpa Rufus would sit and play guitar to you, Ella Mae, Emma Bee and Auntie Ceecee while mama was making sweet tea (oh wait, you're not a black child living in Mississippi in the 30s?). Now to be honest, I couldn't understand a word Peter Hayes (lead vocals) is saying 60% of the time... all the time. So i looked up the lyrics and i gotta say, im glad im not a huge dylan fan. In the second verse:
"It's easy to fall in love
When you're on your luck you know you're done
and the last kiss had a foolish cause
now your tired eyes could only haunt"
That third line is wicked good, but most of the time im just trying to figure out what drugs were being taken during the writing process, where i can get them, and how much do they cost.
Pete...
Thursday, October 1, 2009 1:47 PM
Wait, wait, wait. Your last line (“what drugs were being taken during the writing process . . .”) exactly describes how I feel when I read, well, just about any prose you write. So if you are NOT already on drugs as I assumed, I should probably cancel that intervention we had scheduled for this weekend . . .
On to the review!
“Time won’t save our souls.” This very dramatic opening definitely caught my attention. Usually anything involving the word “soul” does. Unfortunately BRMC lost me shortly thereafter. Why, you ask? Simply put, there is no soul in BRMC. It’s a collection of songs dedicated to melancholy – not blues, despair – not hope, and it sounds British – not southern. For some people, these characteristics are pluses. Not so for me.
The only track worth it’s time is “Weight of the World”. Don’t ask me for the marquee line or anything. I couldn’t understand what the dude was saying either. It’s just a well put together tune for them. But if you want to know what I really think it needs, I’d give it a shot of espresso. Better yet, how about a Mountain Dew . . . shot gunned. Fuck it. The whole album needs a 5-hour Energy and a shot of Cabo Wabo!
It’s just too damn cloudy and rainy on this album.
What say you, Teacher Jason, lover of all Black Rebelious Motorcyclists?
Thursday, October 1, 2009 2:22 PM
Advice received... dopio (double) shot of espresso dumped into my beverage of choice, which after listening to "Weight of the World," happens to be... a cool glass of Jonestown's famous fatal Kool-aid. (Pan cameras down for view of black and white Nike Cortez). Figured the caffeine would speed up the whole shooting up towards god in a spaceship journey. I understand that the song is one well put together, but in terms of its soul, energy, and Souff-ernness, the scoreboard reads "Dead cult followers 1, Weight of the World nill." Its true, I'm tapping my foot while drooling at the Uptown Espresso barista... I'll give you (and the Creepin' Peepin' Toms of West Seattle Association - CPTWSA for short) that, but I believe the papers noted a few post-mortem twitching Nikes as well. You know a well composed tune when you hear one Senor Fuego, pero, good ole' down home folk/blues tunes like the opening "Shuffle Your Feet" is the stuff that gets Uni-testicled bicyclists ahead of the Parisian Pack. Save the Yellow-5 for the live shows you motor-boatin son of a bitch!
So we agree... done with this review? Onto whatevers clever in your books Pedro.
Full stop.
Thursday, October 1, 2009 2:58 PM
Kool-Aid? Really? You are the one, my friend, who has drunk the Kool-Aid. I’m not sure what it is you like so much. This ain’t no down-home-bluesy-soul band. Wait . . . I get it. You think these Black Rebels are actually black. Well I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this but they won’t be opening for Earth, Wind, and Fire anytime soon. Or do you like them because of the fact that they share with us the word “Club” in their name? Trust me Teach, that is where the commonalities end. Have you seen the interviews?! The other bands they play with? Mississippi is not the home of shoegaze/nu-gaze. Ask Wikipedia.
My opinion of this album ought be taken with a grain of salt because I cant stand much of the indie/noise rock/shoegaze genre. For those who need more than a depressing rainy weather driving soundtrack: don’t waste your time illegally downloading Howl. But if you need some tunes at the start of your day while pouring yourself into your skinny sagging black jeans , by all means, ENJOY!
I’m sorry this co-review turned into a bludgeoning much like the one your fantasy football team is going to take this weekend but learning and growing can sometimes be painful. I bet our fans didn’t think Teacher Jason would be the one getting schooled.
Over and out.
Over and out.
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