Ramble On #2: Hammer No More The Fingers

Which is more difficult: writing a song or writing a poem? Beats the heck out of me, I don't write either. But I'll tell you who does. The trio of dudes that's rapidly turning into some of my favorite Carolinians, otherwise known as Hammer No More The Fingers. The 90s college rock-esque rockers Duncan, Jeff, and Joe came up with a mighty fine group effort with the below piece of poetry, all inspired by their latest tour across this great land. So read on, and if you're in the DC metro, I suggest you consider heading to the Rock'n'Roll Hotel tomorrow night for what will surely be a rollicking good rock'n'roll time with the aforementioned Hammer. As you can see from this here poem, they're not too shabby with the poetical stuff, either.

sweet arcade games

mr basketball you have

great mustaches

hair cuts les savy fav

girl drummers play sex cymbals

cheesewhiz meat and bread

cigarette smoke machine

clouds up your head

in sky or on land

its birds, fox japan

blew a superwadzilla in a basement insaneo

the grass is always greener at the foot of a volcano

machete confetti

invisible host

anybody need a beer

chad the bro ghost

mp3: Nobody Knows (Hammer No More The Fingers from Looking For Bruce) (courtesy Sunset In The Rearview Mirror)

Ramble On #1: Walker Howle (Dead Confederate)

When I first met Walker Howle, Dead Confederate's imposingly tall and bountifully bearded axeman, I was told as a preface to have him tell me a story, since few people around can spin a yarn quite like Walker can. So ask for a story I did, of course, and so well-told and fantastic it was that I decided there was none better for this here new feature than Mr. Howle.

And now, without further ado, I hand it over to Walker.

TENDER HELL

The moon cast a glow that was pure hell....Man nor beast could come to terms with such a horrendous episode of visual interlude. Denny ripped not only his own arms off, but also the arms of the beautiful Miss Chaucey. They sat motionless in the horrible moonlight while the wild-eyed prairie hyenas drank from their shoulder holes....Meanwhile, on the other side of earth, Moyikami was getting married for the first time. It was an arranged marriage, and Moyikami felt quite lucky, seeing as how his wife to be was not only beautiful - but also a calm, thoughtful lady as well....Frank Stallone was the Monk that was to do the hitching....and Hitching He Did!.....Boy Howdy!

As an aside, if you're not already aware, the boys of Dead Confederate are currently touring their (amazing) new record, Sugar. They're here in DC Wednesday, so see y'all over at the Hotel for what promises to be a killer evening.

mp3: Run From The Gun (Dead Confederate from Sugar)