Starting as the unfunniest of jokes in 2005 in the arsenic drenched, barren landscapes and history-heavy bar back-rooms of industrial old town Tacoma, Warshington and imbibed on shared no-lifetimes of toxic smelter air and Rosalie ghost stories, the quattro seek to serve up all that smoky sweet raw-packed haunted-city ware in loud, can’t danceable, junk soul form. Never mind the caustic name and the faux-tough airs. Ragged good-timey frug & shug is the totem - cooing with the excellently bedheaded masses to unfold arms, unfurrow brows, get on the feets and fuck out loud right along with as they lame their place in rock’n’roll non-history. The soul-full-of-it and the soul-less, the doo wop and the doo wrong, Brill Building tenant discards, and all manner of clunky rhythm’n lose not-so-originals and shoulda-beens/sorta-weres from a mutant cadre of inspirators: Gino Washington, Kitty Love, Oblivians, The Syndicate, Bobby Long, Chuck Willis, Flat Duo Jets and more we won’t implicate here - all now unwilling recipients of an expertless musical mistreatment and stuffed into the mercilessly contrived and ineptly fuckocted Fucklets’ repeturd.”|- Gaptooth Jukebox, 2005 MIDNIGHT SOUR ~ THE SOPHOMORE FULL LENGTH|Release date: September 1st, 2009 (Gaptooth Jukebox Records)|TFE’s new opus ‘Midnight Sour’ is a loosely conceptualized album diarizing looming cracks in the Tacoma party time continuum and the alcohol infused, misery-guzzling heart-sick bruisings of Tacoma’s thirtynothing set…PARTY DOOM!! But T-Town’s sweatiest party-faithful aren’t looking to clear the room with gloom, but rather rollick in celebratory stride and full drunken-savant embrace of the dooming T-Town social narrative. ‘Sour’ aspires to provide a triumphant hilltop house-party soundtrack not just for the T-Town alcohoi polloi, but all the party worn un-pretty gritty city mutantry hanging on to not hang over across the realm. Continuing on the soulful, raucous trajectory established on their 2007 debut, ‘Sour’ effortlessly weaves appropriately ragged garage totems, pop punk drives, boy/girl group harmonies, beered-up campfire slur-a-longs, and ample nods to the R&B inspirators that informed the band’s conception. The albums’ jangly, jerky, almost gospelic closing offers the parting thought in a massive sing-a-long chorus echoing the group’s seemingly proud sense of self-defeat ‘…fail this well again’. Tacoma on your doorstep people. – Gaptooth Jukebox, 2009 www.myspace.com/ihatthefkingeagles|www.facebook.com/The-F-king-Eagles/131291671985 |
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