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COSMIC BALLROOM |
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Of course, only the purest stuff from Sweden will do. I’m talking the
trashy, snot-nosed, shout-a-long motherfuckery that hits you harder than a
bag o’ nails and thumbs at your brain like it’s a broken Zippo kind of
stuff. And Cosmic Ballroom is the new fix, man. It’s two parts Backyard
Babies, one part United Enemies, and one part Hardcore Superstar, laced to
perfection with a twinge of Social Distortion for some homegrown flavor.
Listen, it’s a hell of a ride, so get hip to this shit now before the
whole dead generation of scrappy punk n’ rollers and naughty midnight
teasers buy it all up. Take too much, though, and you’ll probably end up
either wrestling stray dogs or slam dancing pinball machines in hell’s
arcade, but I mean, right on…right? See you in detox. |
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- Jeff Warren |
My drug of choice? Well, it depends on my mood, Jack, but you can bet it’s
either a shot of gin, a fistful of apathy, a barely legal rock n’ roll
teen queen, or some fresh ink. Sometimes, though, if I’m feeling stupidly
immortal, I’ll take the phone off the hook and mix and match until my
heart can’t take any more. Those are the real good times, ya know?
Unfortunately, I’ve got to keep these death parties to a minimum if I want
to see the revolution unfold, so I’ll often throw on an ultra bitchin’
sleaze rock record instead to help me reach that ultimate high my strange
vices normally provide.