Tight Bros from Way Back When

Runnin’ Thru My Bones (Kill Rock Stars)
by Jon Sarre

From Olympia, base of wimp symp feebrock label K, philosophical, if not actual, headquarters of all bands anti-patriarchal, and the capital of the State of Washington (but that’s another story) comes an outfit that just shuts the fuck up, shuts the lobes down, and gets all goony and déclassé and just rocks for a change. Tight Bro’s From Way Back When have got a clunky-ass moniker, to be sure, but they’ve got a sound as streamlined as any Fireballs of Freedom you may wanna throw up against (or on) ’em (and the songs of the aforementioned Empty Records hellions, Fireballs, I’m talkin’ here – MC5 meet AC/DC meet Jon Spencer and go on the run from the law, for everybody who don’t know what the fuck I’m talkin’ about – sorta just hint at whilst they blow the wax outta yer ears as ya struggle to remain upright in a puddle of Oly swill beer).

“Gimme Luv!” the Bro’s croon in alternate screechy falsetto and pigeon-chested snarls, “Come On!” the rest of the band chimes in encouragement between meaty power chordage boogie struts, and before the song’s over, you dumbass listeners at home are doin’ the same thing and maybe even crankin’ windmill air guitar and guzzlin’ cheap suds. “Are ya ready”s, “Rockin’ ’til the break of days”s and even “Rockin’ like a hurricane” pepper the Bro’s’ lyrics (all songs pretty much end with an exclamation point, which must mean they talk loud or they’re always really excited ’bout somethin’). They seem to understand that if yer gonna have a bonehead party band, y’might as well be up front about it. Lord knows if yer gonna try and be ironic, people may read too much into yer shtick and there goes yer face value charm. Unless that’s an ironic stance, too. See, thinking too much is confusing. Sit up, jump around and enjoy this, okay?
(120 NE State #418 Olympia, WA 98501)