Every once in awhile I love my job. Like when I get to tear to shit bands from small towns. It’s a lot harder for a band in a small town to get attention and I, being a smug asshole jealous of people who get to be in bands, love to kick bands when they’re down.
So…shall we begin?
The pursuit of cash is one of those bands you can’t bring home to meet your mom. This is not because they are rude, or trashy, or just so bad they’re awesome. No…you can’t bring this band home to meet your mom because she’d probably fuck the band. This music is so old and so awful, it will trigger a groupie reflex in her. So for the love of God, do not bring this band home to meet your mom, unless you plan on recording video and sending it to me-in which case, do. I will make a whole new page on this site for that shit.
But enough about your Mom, let’s talk about this band.
One thing I actually do like about this band: The guitar tone sounds like a wet fart. And I gotta tell you, there is nothing gonna make a jackass like me smile as much as wet farts arranged into shitty melodies (See what I did there?). So cheers for making me smile, guys.
And you do have to admit…they rock pretty hard…for Brainerd, Minnesota. Home of PAUL FUCKING BUNYAN. A FUCKING LUMBERJACK. Well, it’s something, I guess.
I think these guys could actually have a future.
A future writing dance tracks for plus-sized strip clubs, that is.
Steve Shagwell started this site because he really loves to hate your band. Don't be bothered, he's just insecure because he doesn't have a band of his own. That loser probably thinks about your band and cries after sex.