SATURDAY JAN 25, 2020
New Junk City
Princesss
Alan Rainwater awoke with a start one brittle Wednesday morning, sweat racing down the small of his back. The taste of vinegar from the previous night's frivolities was still fresh on his lips. With a screech of panic he hastened from his dimly lit boudoir and into his private pickle atrium, uncertain of what he may find there. Alas, in a fit of depravity he had devoured his entire pickle collection! Cursing the heavens with slimy vitriol he summoned the only man he knew who could aid him in this cursed state. Taylor Blun was a pickle aficionado himself and would know what to do. Alan was sure of it.
"Try to stay calm sweet pecan blossom" Taylor crooned reassuringly.
"But how? The pickles were the very definition of my tortured existence! Nothing can fill the void of pickle that now burns from my being" Alan simpered mournfully.
"There is but one solution..." Quoth Taylor, a touch of mischief in his timbre.
"I already know of what you speak" Alan's tone thusly altered to a somber state. "We must start a band"!
"No Alan, that's not what I'm saying at all."
"There's no time for second guessing now faithful Taylor! Destiny has summoned us and her name is pickles! Let us away on merry flight to finish what we've started!"
Taylor's protests being drowned out at this point by Alan's display of gusto, Alan dragged Taylor through the streets until they first found Christian hypnotizing some hipster college kids at a Starbucks with his synthesizer powers in order to steal their coffee. He apparently didn't have anything better to do so he came along. Then came Jerry. They say he sprang fully formed from a discarded sheep's bladder during the first blood moon of the winter solstice already proficient on the bass. Alan asked him to join the band. Jerry said nothing. Instead he just played the bass and it was a done deal. Just then, the heavens darkened... The earth quaked... Something was upon them. Something powerful. Something dark. Something beautiful.
"HEY YOU GUYS!" Colin burst forth from a local volcanic eruption with the boisterous bluster of forty year old black woman who has just received mustard on her cheeseburger when she wanted it on the side. The rest of our heroes tried to run but it was no use. Colin tackled each of them to the ground and beat them savagely with an old shoehorn.
"What can I do for you sir?" Alan asked timidly.
"I PLAY THE DRUMS CAN I JOIN YOUR BAND CUZ I REALLY WANNA JOIN A BAND AND PLAYING SOME TUNES IN A BAND WOULD BE PRETTY COOL AND NOYCE AT THE SAME TIME CUZ I REALLY LIKE PLAYING THE DRUMS AND THAT'S JUST WHAT I LIKE TO DO YA KNOW? I THINK WE SHOULD JU- " Colin was cut off by nearly posthumous shouts of joy and glee. A drummer of his calibre was exactly what they'd been seeking. The final ingredient. The final solution. Their quest had just begun. Princesss was born.
Alan Rainwater awoke with a start one brittle Wednesday morning, sweat racing down the small of his back. The taste of vinegar from the previous night's frivolities was still fresh on his lips. With a screech of panic he hastened from his dimly lit boudoir and into his private pickle atrium, uncertain of what he may find there. Alas, in a fit of depravity he had devoured his entire pickle collection! Cursing the heavens with slimy vitriol he summoned the only man he knew who could aid him in this cursed state. Taylor Blun was a pickle aficionado himself and would know what to do. Alan was sure of it.
"Try to stay calm sweet pecan blossom" Taylor crooned reassuringly.
"But how? The pickles were the very definition of my tortured existence! Nothing can fill the void of pickle that now burns from my being" Alan simpered mournfully.
"There is but one solution..." Quoth Taylor, a touch of mischief in his timbre.
"I already know of what you speak" Alan's tone thusly altered to a somber state. "We must start a band"!
"No Alan, that's not what I'm saying at all."
"There's no time for second guessing now faithful Taylor! Destiny has summoned us and her name is pickles! Let us away on merry flight to finish what we've started!"
Taylor's protests being drowned out at this point by Alan's display of gusto, Alan dragged Taylor through the streets until they first found Christian hypnotizing some hipster college kids at a Starbucks with his synthesizer powers in order to steal their coffee. He apparently didn't have anything better to do so he came along. Then came Jerry. They say he sprang fully formed from a discarded sheep's bladder during the first blood moon of the winter solstice already proficient on the bass. Alan asked him to join the band. Jerry said nothing. Instead he just played the bass and it was a done deal. Just then, the heavens darkened... The earth quaked... Something was upon them. Something powerful. Something dark. Something beautiful.
"HEY YOU GUYS!" Colin burst forth from a local volcanic eruption with the boisterous bluster of forty year old black woman who has just received mustard on her cheeseburger when she wanted it on the side. The rest of our heroes tried to run but it was no use. Colin tackled each of them to the ground and beat them savagely with an old shoehorn.
"What can I do for you sir?" Alan asked timidly.
"I PLAY THE DRUMS CAN I JOIN YOUR BAND CUZ I REALLY WANNA JOIN A BAND AND PLAYING SOME TUNES IN A BAND WOULD BE PRETTY COOL AND NOYCE AT THE SAME TIME CUZ I REALLY LIKE PLAYING THE DRUMS AND THAT'S JUST WHAT I LIKE TO DO YA KNOW? I THINK WE SHOULD JU- " Colin was cut off by nearly posthumous shouts of joy and glee. A drummer of his calibre was exactly what they'd been seeking. The final ingredient. The final solution. Their quest had just begun. Princesss was born.
Rough Dreams
Taking their name from Otis Redding's gut-wrenching "I've Got Dreams to Remember," Rough Dreams deliver a powerful blend of Emo, Punk, and Indie rock, channeling the raw emotion laid bare by the King of Soul.
After a short six-month incubation period, Rough Dreams have emerged with an energetic live show and a forthcoming 3 Song 7" E.P. to be released on upstart vinyl-only Knoxville, TN imprint, Coffin Curse Records. Recorded jointly in Knoxville by Zach Householder (Whitechapel) and Miah Lajeunesse (The Sound Lair) as well as in Saginaw, MI with Nick Diener (The Swellers) at Oneder Studios, the release shows the genesis of a band who is poised to use their combined decades of experience in the underground punk scene to catapult them into the orbit of the greater music world.
Taking their name from Otis Redding's gut-wrenching "I've Got Dreams to Remember," Rough Dreams deliver a powerful blend of Emo, Punk, and Indie rock, channeling the raw emotion laid bare by the King of Soul.
After a short six-month incubation period, Rough Dreams have emerged with an energetic live show and a forthcoming 3 Song 7" E.P. to be released on upstart vinyl-only Knoxville, TN imprint, Coffin Curse Records. Recorded jointly in Knoxville by Zach Householder (Whitechapel) and Miah Lajeunesse (The Sound Lair) as well as in Saginaw, MI with Nick Diener (The Swellers) at Oneder Studios, the release shows the genesis of a band who is poised to use their combined decades of experience in the underground punk scene to catapult them into the orbit of the greater music world.