He had a penchant for doing “the stadium intro” (where he yells the name of the upcoming song hoping for applause of recognition) but nobody got into it.
If ever a band was aptly named, it’s Guttermouth. One word. Three syllables. Punk as fuck. They hit the stage with an attitude that barely fit in the room.
Sugar Ray launched into their heavy chugging rap attack and wasted no time getting the crowd fistbanging, headslamming, bodysurfing, and that whoa-whoa thang.
Five kinda white/hispanic guys with mics and bats and lottsa tats. They’re trading their raps and stompin’ around, while the drummer’s chillin’ in the back.