A long time ago, in a small mining town on the planet Twang, Nashville Country met his beautiful bride, Punk Rock, in a dirty little honky-tonk barroom. She was makin' eyes at him (you know how some girls are), and before they knew it, they were in each other's arms, long lost in the throes of furious, whiskey-fueled love-making.
By the time the night was over Nashville C knew that he was gonna be a daddy, so he packed up his Martin six-string and a bottle of Dickel into his 1959 Ford Galaxy and put his pretty little bride in the seat beside him and drove all the way to Baltimore, where she gave birth to the best alt-country band Northeastern Harm City has ever seen -- four earnest young men and two pretty young fillies full of pain and love and booze, who care about music almost as much as they care about sour mash whiskey.
