PAINT FUMES "Uck Life" CD
[124CD] Paint Fumes "Uck Life" CD
“Uck Life?” Where the uck does something like this even come from? I can probably clue you in a bit if I mention some gospel truth like CHESS RECORDS’ grimiest sides. Balls out honk made by some hard hittin’ dudes with rib stickin’ names. Or hows about the driving twang and loco-motion of Memphis’ SUN sound? Show biz. Perfect rock’n’roll. Get screwed! But the music that actually lives up to the name has always been there if you looked hard enough. Even if it meant a trip to the sewer. This moment in space, time and drain pipes has brought us to North Carolina, birth place of Charlotte, NC’s PAINT FUMES, and this is the sound of three NOW-minded and irreplaceable disciples of the earthquake shake! Drummer Josh Johnson aka Pinche Gringo (also done hard time with King Khan’s Tandoori Knights) knows every beat in the book, and they are here in spades! Straight out the congo, filtered through American grime and always in the pocket, y’all. Lead guitarist Brett Whittlesey has arrived to demonstrate that one can rock out the real motherfuckin’ blues, not have ANYTHING in common with Stevie Ray Vaughmit or his muse Hack White, and squeeze every last drop of funky assed Satanism out of it. BAT SIGNAL! The Caped Crusader is also getting an exorcism too, but it don’t look good for our hero this week. The Devil is hard to beat. Elijah von Cramon, the rhythm guitar beater and incredible vocal sensation with the screech owl hoot and howl is an infant maniac old soul who was just lucky enough to bounce into his wise new crew. His mangled guitar interplay with Brett’s scatterbrained leads are the shit of legend. Bo met Muddy and the Wolf in a Super Blues Group bomber. Poison Ivy and Brian Gregory’s mutual sonic masterbation sessions dropped ju-ju on the insane. Simultaneously, The Gories advanced experiments in industrial blues collided with Cheater Slicks’ sonic exercises in murder, and Oblivians fucked it all away. It ain’t really all that simple, but here we are again, huffing ghosts from the brown paper bag full of sold souls with an essential thread in this web of sound we call rock’n’roll!
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|Set Product as New from Date||2012-12-11 00:00:00|