A mixture of Kiss, Ru Paul, and Pansy Division. A bunch of guys in drag playing, you know, rock, with obscene lyrics about felching, fist-fucking, and anal sex.
Their third release (first for Atlantic), and still as coarse and nasty as ever. Selene Vigil screeches like she’s just had a car door slammed on her hand.
New Bomb Turks are everything they’re cracked up to be. Pissing Out The Poison compiles singles, many of which are hard to find, demos, and unreleased tracks.
8 Ball Shifter sounds like the Ventures and Iggy and the Stooges rolling around together in mud. Gritty, lo-fi, garage punk with just a hint of surfabilly.
Pensive and esoteric lyrics coalesce with blaring guitars. The music is melodic, haunting, and heavy, but it tends to get redundant after the first few songs.