Billy Butcher – Penny Dreadful Outlaw Recordings
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Ex-Pretty
Boy Floyd (original, Canuck versh) mainman Billy Butcher
(AKA Pete Parker, and possibly Spiderman, as well) is a
Vancouver based bluesman, all tattoos and bruises and taut skin pulled
tightly over wild-eyes and a rictus grin, who plays his guitar HARD,
like it owes him an explanation. He says stuff like “My balls are big enough
to start World War III”, and “Nobody loves me but my mama/And she could be
jiving too”, and “Lord, I really like my cocaine/and my whiskey, too” which
just goes to prove that ALL bluesmen have the same joneses and
preoccupations, even the ones that sound like they listen to as much
AC/DC as they do Stevie Ray, like Billy here. Ol’ BB
reminds me of scarred, scary (and dead) vampire bluesman John Campbell
on “Penny Dreadful”, an album fulla stripped-down, soul scraping,
tough-as-nails Johnny Winters riffs and grand declarations of
triumph, tragedy, and uncharted heights of disgrace. Same blues-as-bullets
feel, ya know, ‘cept Butcher’s got less hair. And he’s still
breathing. Anyway, I’m not the biggest
blues-dude in the neighborhood, that’s for
sure- you’d be amazed at how seldom ya GET the blues once the whiskey
and cocaine are gone-for-good - but I bet if ‘tasty’ licks and songs ‘bout
killin’ yr woman are up your boozy alley, you’ll love this ‘un, cuz one
thing’s for sure, Butcher plays it like he means, it maaaan.
________________________________________________________
Ex-Pretty
Boy Floyd (original, Canuck versh) mainman Billy Butcher
(AKA Pete Parker, and possibly Spiderman, as well) is a
Vancouver based bluesman, all tattoos and bruises and taut skin pulled
tightly over wild-eyes and a rictus grin, who plays his guitar HARD,
like it owes him an explanation. He says stuff like “My balls are big enough
to start World War III”, and “Nobody loves me but my mama/And she could be
jiving too”, and “Lord, I really like my cocaine/and my whiskey, too” which
just goes to prove that ALL bluesmen have the same joneses and
preoccupations, even the ones that sound like they listen to as much
AC/DC as they do Stevie Ray, like Billy here. Ol’ BB
reminds me of scarred, scary (and dead) vampire bluesman John Campbell
on “Penny Dreadful”, an album fulla stripped-down, soul scraping,
tough-as-nails Johnny Winters riffs and grand declarations of
triumph, tragedy, and uncharted heights of disgrace. Same blues-as-bullets
feel, ya know, ‘cept Butcher’s got less hair. And he’s still
breathing. Anyway, I’m not the biggest
blues-dude in the neighborhood, that’s for
sure- you’d be amazed at how seldom ya GET the blues once the whiskey
and cocaine are gone-for-good - but I bet if ‘tasty’ licks and songs ‘bout
killin’ yr woman are up your boozy alley, you’ll love this ‘un, cuz one
thing’s for sure, Butcher plays it like he means, it maaaan.