Pavement. Guided By Voices. The Kinks. Elliot Smith. Big Muff & MXR Distortion + Paintings on velvet. The hope of someday finding a liver donor.
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Sounds Like
Someone got the Kinks shitfaced and gave them all fuzz pedals:
The band was formed when two of their former collaborators quit and the remaining three members decided to drink themselves to death while gathering weekly to cover "Pinkerton" and "The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society".
Since then, things have been going surprisingly well. A record is being made, and is in fact almost finished, though delayed by periodic infighting and bicycle trouble. The members' mutual love of the movie Dragnet has sustained them through times both good and bad; there is no breach of trust that cannot be smoothed over by the thought of Tom Hanks and Dan Akroyd in goat leggings.
Their live shows have acquired a near-legendary status, as their carefully calibrated audience-baiting and verbatim recreations of hoary Catskills comedy routines involving existential despair and ventriloquism grow ever more finely honed. So sit back. Have ten or twelve beers. Take a listen.
Good Touch Bad Touch was fuckin amazing last night at the Beachland! These dude rawked it beautifully last night! Who gives a fuck if the Academy Awards was more popular last night than us!
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