Tag: Old 97's

Raw, stinging, and pungent like a freshly-cut onion, The Bobby Lees quickly peel away their layers to share their tender, pearl-white hearts.

The word “party” is right there in the name, as is the word “nude”, and it might be a coincidence, but this is rowdy, horny, let-it-all-hang-out rock and roll music.

The Gaslamp Killer earned his nickname by ruining the vibe of clubs in San Diego’s Gaslamp district with his incongruous DJ sets, so we must conclude those clubs were lame.

Someone threw a key party for a bunch of musical genres, and Americana, Rock, and Punk left together. On the dashboard radio on the way to the motel, the Old 97’s were playing.

Hissing steam and spitting fire, the Old 97s chew up the rails and cross-ties by playing country music with a punk attitude.

The haberdasher heard a light thump and roll, then felt something tap against a shoe. It was a peach pit. Looking up from the stack of brochures, they saw the orthodontist grinning and wiping their mouth with a sleeve, glancing at the gap on the blanket where the fruit was drying in the sun, clearly suggesting that perhaps another one was in order. The tandem moped leaned against the back of the Gate of Hercules, shielded by its bulk from the bright Croatian summer sun. The peaches had hours to go, and they had forgotten to bring a game., having only whatever reading material they had managed to scrape up in the Hotel Pula lobby.