Dreams do come true, baby...finally got to catch my main musical muse as of late, Mr. Nick Watehouse, do it to it at a "secret show" thanks to FADER at Larimer Lounge...just amazin', baby.
...or here I am in the limelight, ha!
photo credit: Scott Fowler
Welp crazy kids, Saturday sure was something else...thanx to y'all fans fer stickin' with and shakin' to a serious achin'...
photo credit: Scott Fowler
The Get Wets have decided to go back to the party shack and bash out a real raucous record before swingin' anymore soirées, but y'all stay wet meanwhile, baby...
Another blast & a half was had at the Cypress Hill house party last nite baby!...hopefully we'll get some snapshots of the shakin' & stompin' action posted fer yer pretty eyes soon but til then a lil flashback of the Get Wets full tilt house party pound-down from the last show at the (sadly defunct) Love Shack earlier this year...it's just the tail end of the frenzied fracus cover of les Sexareenos' sinful song "Put Out"...dig it & make it last til the next Get Wets wail tale, kids...
Ahoy party girls and boys...here's a few snapshots of the Sodden Sultans of Slop in full-tilt fun-fracas mode at el Whig a few Fridays ago:
Sure feel sorry fer ya sad saps that missed this Mondellos hap!...tomorrow we're gonna slap a live Get Wets original up, recorded by Artie Mondello the very same nite as these pics, ya dig...
And if yer in the mood to move and groove tonite, come celebrate the Whig's 6th year of wild times...I'll be there sportin' my white-on-white Columbi-Yeah shirt, so stop on by, say hi, & party til yer cross-eyed
 | Wow, the wildness just keeps whirlin' around fer the Get Wets... If yer hip ya already know that Logan (aka DB) has rejoined the loopy group on the organs and we're gearin' up fer our fourth live, graceless get-down in Cola-town (which also happens to be our second show underground, at el Whig)... & to slop the pops with a cherry on top, we are rarin' & darin' to drop some of our soul magic to the magnetic-tape in July (prepare yer hearin'-pipes, humanity!!) ...Like Wow, indubitably. |
Riled like a rabid bastard, it needs to be said...Dexter Romweber is a living legend...not that I ever had my doubts, but he forever forged his legacy in my mind last nite...
...Dexter, with older sis Sara in perfect tandem, just wailed and weeped fer over an hour at the White Mule...with few in attendance but the diehards for Dex's brand of "hardcore Americana" (to quote Exene Cervenka's glibness), it was fight or fuck time conveyed via his own brand of patented tunes that croon, swoon, & blast-off like a rocket to the moon...
...this is American music goddammit & the Dex Romweber Duo ain't gonna let it die off like some obscure historical fad...Dexter is a trash-rock troubadour, who plays from the soul of all those who influenced him...& Dexter's a big influence on me, continually preachin' his passion in wild shows of emotions and music...& the chain is unbroken, baby...
...& just like Kerouac, the only musicians fer me are the ones "mad to live" and if ya ever doubt Dexter & his ability to communicate those fundamental American desires and dreads, do yerself a favor and catch the 'Duo in action...ya couldn't be disappointed...
Do it to Dex!
What wilder way to wind-up a month than with a third garagepunk get-down at the Whig! ...Mondo Topless pullin' a sneak attack on Cola-town...
& let me say this was a real shocker surprise, kids...the story goes that no shows were to be had fer the intrepid 'Topless boys in the entirety of the state of SC...therefore last Thursday had been chalked up as a rest day fer the Mondo maniacs...but lo, a last ditch power-play of phones calls earned the band a gig at the Whig...all be it an un-payed gig...& as sheer testament to immutable enthusiasm & the triumph of bad taste the restless locals of Cola-town were treated to some terrific tunage...
Mondo Topless wasn't even discouraged by the jerry-rigged PA system or botched last-minute promotion of the show neither...but with a hard row to hoe they put on a raucous show...once again I was glad there's folks that still know how to get with it, turn it all out, & let the band know they dig it with their undulatin'...count yerself lucky if ya were there as I doubt ya ever gonna see another spontaneous garage-freakout like this again at the Whig or anywhere else on this rock fer quite a while, baby...
Addin' to the frantic fire fer me, the boys took my requests even, in addition to a totaled, yet never tired encore fer a sweaty but small crowd...there were sparks in the air, kids...thank the lord no one lit a match! Sam (lead singer and organ-grinder fer the band) commented after the show just how wild it was to have an audience manhandle his Jaguar with so much love and abandon...but in the moment of a great garage show us down South, starved fer sleazy sounds, can't help but get involved in the insanity...'course it also don't hurt to have the spring board of just-fun musical mayhem that Mondo Topless seems to make so effortlessly...in a perfect world playin' a shakey shindig under these conditions, pro bono, should earn these cats from Philly plenty of positive garagepunk golden stars.....I know that I owe 'em some gas money at least
Dig some of the demented sites of Mondo Topless doin' it to it:
What are the odds: Two GaragePunk shows at the Whig in a week?!?
First was Davila 666 (read all about it here), but not to be out-frenzied or forgotten, thee Fine Lines showed up to do the Whig right & up tight with plenty of Sunday nite shakes...
Once we sauntered down the stairs to the depths of Cola-town's hot spot, it smelled of the foul fun had just days earlier...but my garage gland was givin' off the real reek once I noticed that the groop of gentlemen scarfin' pizza were the 'Lines in the flesh...
So yes, I admit, I'm a fuckin' fanboy fer this raunch & racket...and with the G.C.S.P.S. gang providin' a pleasant trashy music backdrop, I plopped down and commenced with talkin' shop...garagepunk prattle at max spazz...Jason Fine Line, being the unfortunate soul closest to me, got the real brunt of my babble...tho over the course of the nite they all humored me...just nice guys who happen to play some of the sweaty sounds....this is dance music, kids!
Once again up front is the place to be...thee Fine Lines lay it out, baby...Before the show I got to squeeze in a few requests and even tho the band hadn't rehearsed any of 'em lately, they just wailed on 'em...Best part to me was at kick-off when durin' "sound check" they performed my fav rave tune, "Got to Get Out of This Town"...and this manic masterpiece just set the tone at full tilt, the way I always want it--wild:
Folks who label the 'Lines as a throw-back groop ain't seen and heard the frenzy live and that's a fuckin' shame, cuz they come to roll ya over...too pop fer punk, too savage fer sixties rock.
...They shook it out and gave a stunnin' encore fer the ragged audience, makin' sure the rocks got out! ...Capped the nite right with a congratulatory round o' shots and an open invite to come back whenever...now that's a garagepunk show!
UPDATE: How the fuck could I forget that I threw my fuckin' back out from this show?!? ...3 days later, still achy, baby ....no can say I don't get down to the garagepunk sound....
