Love like a son-of-a-bitch
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Scrobble from Spotify? Connect to Spotify Dismiss. Search Search. Dismiss Internet Explorer is no longer supported on Last. Play album. Length Related Tags hardcore metalcore post-hardcore screamo Add tags View all tags. From The Album Play album. Pass The Flask The Bled 87, listeners. We can't show you this lyrics snippet right now.
Play track. Artist images 23 more. The Bled , listeners Related Tags post-hardcore metalcore hardcore The Bled was an American post-hardcore band from Tucson, Arizona formed in The Bled was an American post-hardcore band from Tucson, Arizona formed in Final lineup: Jeremy Ray Tal… read more.
Similar Artists Play all. Trending Tracks 1. Wednesday 22 May Thursday 23 May Monday 3 June Tuesday 4 June Wednesday 5 June Thursday 6 June Friday 7 June Saturday 8 June Sunday 9 June Monday 10 June Tuesday 11 June Wednesday 12 June Monday 17 June Tuesday 18 June Wednesday 19 June Thursday 20 June Saturday 22 June Sunday 23 June Monday 24 June Tuesday 25 June Wednesday 26 June Thursday 27 June Friday 28 June Saturday 29 June Sunday 30 June Monday 1 July Tuesday 2 July Wednesday 3 July Thursday 4 July Friday 5 July Saturday 6 July Sunday 7 July Monday 8 July Tuesday 9 July Wednesday 10 July Friday 12 July Sunday 14 July Monday 15 July Tuesday 16 July Wednesday 17 July Thursday 18 July Friday 19 July Saturday 20 July Sunday 21 July Monday 22 July Tuesday 23 July Wednesday 24 July Thursday 25 July Friday 26 July Saturday 27 July Sunday 28 July Monday 29 July Tuesday 30 July Wednesday 31 July Thursday 1 August Friday 2 August Saturday 3 August Sunday 4 August Monday 5 August Tuesday 6 August Wednesday 7 August Thursday 8 August Friday 9 August Saturday 10 August Sunday 11 August Monday 12 August Tuesday 13 August Wednesday 14 August Thursday 15 August Friday 16 August Saturday 17 August Sunday 18 August Monday 19 August Tuesday 20 August Wednesday 21 August Thursday 22 August Friday 23 August Saturday 24 August Sunday 25 August Monday 26 August Tuesday 27 August Wednesday 28 August Thursday 29 August No matter how out of tune it might sound, Mike D.
Of course, I can hear Damron's "think I give a fuck? So there you have it. Basically, Damron likes Southern rock and political heat, even though he's more Neil Young-left than Lynyrd Skynrd-right; he likes bluegrass, mud, Johnny Cash, Social Distortion, buck-toothed guitar wails, blues and solid, warm production. He's assembled a top-notch band with Portland, Oregon regulars Flapjack TX on drums, Mole Harris on bass, "Handsome" Jon Burbank on guitar and, most notably, David Lipkind on harmonica -- not a skinny kid with a penchant for blowing, but a real master of the instrument whose powerful, almost abrasive style adds gasoline to the fire on tracks like "Twerp" and "American Fuck Machine".
Damron's whiskey-and-smoke-fed voice consistently fits his mood -- backwards-looking, devastatingly cynical, but staunchly independent and alive and kicking at the same time -- and the music follows suit, always in step but never lacking variety. In "In the Mud" and "Hayward, Ca '76", Damron gets relatively sentimental about times, fathers and grandfathers past; the first breaks out the fiddle and the banjo to celebrate the happy memories, and the second mourns their loss with a drunken blues stomp reminiscent of Jack White's early work.
Heston" and "The Ballad of Courtney Taylor", besides naming names, work themselves into a steaming fury over issues other hip priests won't touch; the first romps along to a spitting NRA indictment while the second attacks celebrity cred in a letter addressed to the Dandy Warhols' Courtney Taylor. But maybe "Things That Fail" expresses Damron's worldview best: after a list of semi-spoken failing things and a hopeful conclusion that "love is the key", all set to distilled blues riffing and minimal drumming, Damron lets out in a blood-curdling wail -- "love it failed!
The results are at once refreshing and classic. Heavy on that classic blues and rock sound with scruffy vocals and a harmonica addition that balances the rawness with ease. This album is fierce and crisp all the way through and is an excellent attempt at taking rock back to the forefront of popular music. Lyrics lean towards the tragic in "Dear Mr. Heston" about vocalist Mike D's brother shooting his other brother and then the government on "The Ballad Of Courtney Taylor" and "American Fuck Machine" which are about the corruption and inequality from those in power.
The tight sound wound between these guys fit in with late night drinking bashes.
Their shit is for real! Heston," a harrowing tale by band leader Mike D of how one of his brothers shot the other, opens, "If you ever saw a year-old boy's brains splattered on a kitchen wall, well, you'd hang your head in shame you rifle totin' whore, cold-blooded, old-blooded, sick-ass man. I would gladly give my life for a righteous cause. However, making Dick Cheney and Halliburton richer doesn't make me feel any freer or safer!
We are the greatest nation on earth. This is what I tell the rednecks that tell me to 'love it or leave it. I hate fucking bullies. Put Here To Bleed is, without a doubt, one of those records that has renewed my faith in rock. There are those who do alt. He also finds the wherewithal to roll his characters around in the mire of self-loathing in "Hayward, CA '76," "Sixsixfive" and "La," all of which are unnervingly affecting despite a complete lack of sentimentality.
Speaking of gravel, D. This is one songwriter who sings what he means and means what he sings, and this is a band as long on honesty as it is on talent. Put Here to Bleed was put here to wail. But whatever the flavor, it's really only a different hue of the same shit. The fatal flaw is always in the music itself, which becomes an afterthought that survives only in its current climate with no reverence for the music of the past and no room for expansion into the future.
So what makes Put Here to Bleed refreshing is the grafting of rustic folk and blues flavors onto a core of punkish angst that manages to elude becoming mired in cliches.
Search results for 'son of a bitch'
Leadoff track "Twerp" starts quietly, kicking into a raw blues romp with wailing harp, dominating drums and frontman Mike D's scratchy howling. Heston" is as angry as you might guess from the title, with a quick two-step beat and accusatory lyrics railing against gun nuts and, funny enough, reminds me of John Mellencamp. The flair for politically charged lyrical commentary is a thread that runs through Bleed , providing a lineage back to the likes of Woody Guthrie and Bob Dylan.
The abrasive "American Fuck Machine" revolves around a gutbucket roadhouse riff, staccato vocal breaks and machine-gun drumming to deliver its spite for the ideal Republican America, complete with perfect tits, religious predominance and blind patriotism. Scathingly character-assailing, though very simple, is "The Ballad of Courtney Taylor," which takes aim at the dramatic frontman for fellow Portland natives the Dandy Warhols.
A heady mix of punk, blues, folk and sharp witticisms, the songs deliver a strong punch for a band on its way up.
sonofabitch, n. — Green’s Dictionary of Slang
Its dirty. Its lo-fi. And its ass kicking. The drums groove, the guitars rage and the harmonica which normally I would veto makes the song in many cases. This is SOB's second album, and lyrically takes on many hot political topics. Dear Mr.
Hear Desert-Rock Act High Tone Son of a Bitch's Triumphant New Song
Heston tackles gun control. The song's lyrics pack emotional punch along side the friskiness of the music. Hot stuff currently, especially with the attention Michael Moore's Bowling For Columbine documentary has been receiving.
- son of a bitch.
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This song is the musical equivalent. Some much needed shots at that. The Worhals came up out of the local music scene and since signing to a major label, have been, well, rock stars. A great song for its trashy breaks. I can't imagine many women not shaking their asses to this. Despite pointing out the grievances, he ends with "Its all in the words we sing.
The Friday Cover
Love is the key," That's a nice touch. I love the album cover art. This time the "boxer" is going to lick the grinning specter of death who is wielding stars and stripes boxing gloves. Punch em Rocky. And make sure to play it loud. They didn't make this disc to fall asleep to. And anyone familiar with them should already own this disc. OK Ladies. Hit the showers. But don't let the alt country tag send you packing: Put Here to Bleed leaks buckets of smarts, distortion and pure punk soul.
In the album's anti-gun hootenanny "Dear Mr.