BatShitCrazy

We’re the house band – literally.  My house and my basement.   We can’t seem to get out of the cellar.  Not for lack of trying (in fact we are often very trying).    Someone once said we sounded like just another garageband.  It was meant as an insult, I suppose.   We kept the name anyway.     They got it right.  We are what we are – just another garageband.

And batshitcrazy.  We are and we have to be.  This is a crazy world and Batshitcrazy is the new normal.  It drives our humor and our music.   Our music is just stuff we like.  Garageband rock.   Nothing fancy.  Just rock.  Some would say, just noise.   But mostly our own stuff, with a few covers as well.  Some old drinking songs.  Some folk ditties.   But no disco.   No rap and no hop.   No over-processed teeny bop.    Just rock.    Maybe a bit ragged the way real rock always was.

We keep our day jobs.   Good thing too – we like to eat.     At night we jam.    Sometimes friends drop in and join in the racket.  Attila calls it roof rattling.  Whatever.  It’s loud and we like it that way.  Join us.

 

 

RJ

Raised by wild goats.  Rj has no personal hygiene and no table manners.  Never one to waste words, he usually just barks at passers-by.   A self taught ‘musician’, his instructor is a complete idiot.  His utter lack of talent is stunning.   So he’s an inspiration and model for all of us who proudly flaunt our limitations.  When he gets older he looks forward to just sitting on the curb howling and drooling at all the young ladies.       Plays:  Lead Woodblock  (Uses his head)

 

 

Ralph – aka  “hey, you!”

Our blue-eyed friend can’t be called level-headed because it comes to such a point.   He knows evolution is true because he can trace his ancestory back to monkeys…..about 3 generations ago.  Ralph aspires to be a record exec because “it seems like such a simple job.  All you have to do is find a bunch of fresh-faced morons that sound like every other high-pitched act and herd them into a studio to be processed like raw meat. Then let them go raise hell and create their own publicity. An easy win.”       Plays:  Lead Cowbell  (Also uses his head)

 

 

Fritz

We think he was born black but dipped in bleach at an early age.  At one time he had lots of soul and more than a little edge.  But he lost his mind and now just plays bass.  Fritz hopes to become a music critic, politician or news anchorman because “I really don’t know what I’m talking about but I love to hear myself talk.”    Plays:  “One of them four string guitar thingies – six is too many – I lose track”.

 

 

 

Anton “Attila” Renc – (rhymes with “wrench”)

The ninth incarnation of his famous name-sake, Attila has never really adjusted to modern life.  He can usually be found skulking around back alleys looking for food in the trash.  Attila plays drums because he is tone deaf and, well…. just likes to pound things.  He’s often been heard muttering to himself, but no one has been able to figure out just what he is saying.    We think he’s harmless, but you can never be too sure.    He’s proud that he has learned to count to four.  Plays:  Anything he can hit with sticks – so stay clear.