Album of the Week: Well Worn Boot - Fully Torqued


So they just sorta showed up out of nowhere like a year or so ago, I think, and started playing shows and confusing people and getting all weird. I semi-accidentally stumbled into a gig they played at Nietzsche's over the summer and they were wailing out on guitars and wearing costumes and brandishing big phallic props and it was like “Wow this is a complete assault on the senses and the psyche.” And a friend who'd seen them before was, afterward, all like “I think they held back a little tonight,” and I was all like “No I don't think they did? Did they?”

Well Worn Boot is an overall overload of loud rock music and over-the-top stage antics, and watching them that night I kept thinking, “Well all this stuff is certainly well and good, and it's largely visual and psychotic-looking, and I'm not sure precisely what parts of me are aroused right now but some of them are.” But I sort of felt like, “But also, even without the theatrics, the music itself is really awesome and all these guys are real awesome at their instruments, even though they presumably have probably about 750mL of whiskey running around each of their bodies, I bet it would sound super good even if my eyes and convoluted sex bits weren't involved.”

And now the band has a record out. And being a band strapped to their own bizarre mythos/ performance piece (drunk sage journeyman singer/flutist Plainsman, half-human half-cardboard-animal guitarist Horse, B-movie horror monster drummer Billy Klubb, and I-just-don't-even-know masked psycho bassist Baby Buckingham), it of course comes with a comic book. It turns out my initial premonition was correct: the band sounds really awesome on tape. The EP, Fully Torqued, is five tracks of big unapologetic rock that just straight up bleeds Fuck You attitude. Like if Johnny Cash and Captain Beefheart got all gay on each other one night and had a baby that grew up in the post glam metal 80s, and Jethro Tull fluffed that night, because, of course, there's a flute player in the band. It's a blender of American genres, with heavy doses of Blues and Metal and Surf and Country-Western, even hitting some Beach Goth/Sea Chanty notes, for instance, in the verses of “Jack the Ripper.”

“Big Bad Dick” kicks it off with a Dude Ranch snare march and ominous guitar riff, with the verse:

“Now let me tell you a story about my big bad dick/ it's large, in charge, gonna make you sick/ so come on over with that big fat ass and make that body bend/ I done told you once you sonofabitch, I'm the best that's ever been.”

The uber-punchy flute jam “Ballad of Billy Klubb” follows, and the next fifteen or so minutes are a rompous foray, at once straight-forward and challenging, danceable and sexually confounding, and just plain fun. So basically, the Rock and Roll is perfect.

The comic itself tells the band's origin story, and spoiler alert, there's a chase scene and it turns out Plainsman learned how to play the flute by sucking dick. So.

Fully Torqued captures a band that doesn't NEED to go around on stage brandishing huge dildos. But it's awesome that they do. And I guess we didn't need to get this wordy about a band that plays loud riffs and humps each other on stage? Did we? Pick up a copy this Friday and have a good time.


steve gordon

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