LOOK WHAT’S HAPPENED TO MONTY BUCKLES

By Max Dropout

[audio:http://www.youbettershutupandlisten.com/mp3s/lamps_-_rototiller.mp3]

Beyond some awareness of what a wrist watch represents, there is only one pivotal difference between a dog and its owner. If you beat on a dog regularly, the consequence of consistent beatings will eventually shape that animal into a bristling beast of vengeance that salivates with fury over the sight of another human being. Conversely, abuse a man repeatedly for long enough and through his understanding of inevitable and regular occurrence, he will teach himself to lap up every lashing with relative relish and complete abandon.

When deprived of either natural outlet or numbing mechanism, the aura of discontent can swallow a man whole if he’s not careful; negativity and cynicism come in big and natural cupfuls every time you so much as pop your head out a doorframe. However, if you’re fortunate enough to evade falling in line with the mass of commoners out there, with their abortion clinics for minds who consider the atmosphere you breathe merely a dump for their half-formed ideas, then you’ve probably got a sense of emotional awareness and some keen ideas on how to exorcise your evils, or at least on how to cope with them. In the case of the Lamps debut EP, a riotous strain of only the basic essentials, from the highest grade minimalism to concrete-grating vocals, you have an exemplary channel of destructive energy so atomic its brief flash is bound to leave your shadow permanently tattooed on the wall behind you. It staggers toward a clamoring deliverance, just as any sincere blast of displeasure refuses corporeal containment… and this is where the appeal of the Lamps’ punk noir lies, standing as a veritable photonegative depicting the release of mottled ire and discontent. It sounds at times upliftingly menacing enough to render a Small Faces cover more appropriately yelled out the windows of unmarked vans parked in sordid alleyways. Buckles’ spastic moan on the ominous sprawl of “Ron Campbell” stands out like a twisted black silhouette against the burnt oranges of L.A. industrial haze. And yet it’s just upbeat enough to elicit some party stompin’ from audially shell-shocked listeners on tracks like “Rototiller” and “Sores,” moments of retarded joy bursting from the seams like demented pilferings cushioning this sinister Faberge egg of an EP. Because spontaneous frenzy can induce more than just wrath, why wallow in despair when there’s escape elsewhere? Lyrically, the Lamps have struck a match made in God knows where, pairing up a health-hazardous sound with bizarre subject matter ranging from unsightly skin infections to Planet-of-the-Apes-meets-Lord-of-the-Flies simian supremacy.

It should also be noted that pocketed throughout all this are moments of clarity, fleeting sonic havens for the perhaps fainter-of-heart where each crunching, erratic note solidifies into a truly heartrending onslaught– I refer here to the bridge of “M. Malloy,” where following a cathartic count-off, the Lamps’ usual jagged antagonism takes on another, slightly different energy, sounding like a damn-near epic contained within less than twenty seconds. Nai Sammons, former guitarist of the now-sadly-defunct Piranhas, unleashes his own brand of sonic chaos on this track and on “2 Left Legs,” the album’s slide-drenched closer that could better soundtrack a Deep South front porch brawl. Pounding and joyous, the Lamps have generated a sound that is not feigned, not flashy, and certainly not forgettable. Upcoming showcases of their guerilla musical tactics are highly anticipated, but until then, we’ll settle for an interview with singer/guitarist Monty Buckles, where he finally tells us what he’s saying.

You’ve been hanging around the music scene for a while. Why did it take you so long to start a band?
General shyness. The thought of standing up in front of a bunch of people held no appeal and seemed frightening. Also, the Los Angeles “scene” seemed totally unrewarding and unwelcoming. I was happy just seeing music and avoiding any of the other elements, social or otherwise. Other factors include no local friends that were into the same type of music, distaste bordering on pathological social practices, and again, shyness. I also didn’t think I possessed the necessary element that makes the difference between a band that is average versus a band that’s really good. I had a guitar, which I was never really comfortable with, but that I enjoyed sporadically playing around on. I’ve got ears where I cannot for the life of me figure out how to play a song by listening to it. I can’t sit down next to the stereo and find whatever key the song is in by strumming along. Nor did I ever jam around and come up with chord structures or riffs that I thought were good. But I liked playing. Guitars are one of those things, where once you know even a tiny bit about them, are intensely difficult not to pick up when you see one around.

What exactly made you feel like this was the time to do it?
There was no one defining bolt of lightning from the heavens that made me decide to start playing. I had begun playing guitar more in earnest, and my friend Josh started playing drums. We talked more about it and began playing together in my apartment; me plugged into a tiny amp and Josh playing along quietly with his sticks on muffled drums. Since I knew nobody with any aspirations of being a front man or singer, the task fell to me. So, I had to learn how to “sing” and play guitar at the same time, something that took awhile. In addition to being petrified of actually singing into a microphone in front of people, I had problems just strumming and singing at the same time. The thought of singing gave me a pervading fear, which I gradually got over. I don’t know if it was vestigial self confidence, or comfort. I think much of it was the fact that Josh was an excellent drummer, not so much from a technical perspective, but he plays in with really loud simplicity, and it just worked really well with my rudimentary guitar playing. The way his drumming sounded with my guitar was enough encouragement to continue.

What do you all really think of the band?
That’s a very difficult question. I don’t really think of the band from a personal critical perspective, beyond “that sounds good” or “I don’t like that.” I have never done a personal aesthetic in-depth analysis. I can’t really answer for Josh or Tim, but speaking for myself I’m the type of person where if I don’t like something and I have a choice of avoiding it, I will abandon it in a hot minute. There’s stuff about the band I don’t really like, aspects that I can’t really articulate, or ways I wish we sounded, or ways I wish we played. But overall, I am happy with it. But, like I said, I don’t really think about it.

How long have the Lamps been around?
I don’t know… I played in a two-piece band with Josh, and then he stopped. Then it started up again, with Tim and then Josh had to move before our first show, which went okay (he drove in from out of town). We were probably semi-active for a couple years. We are all really lazy. I kind of like bands like that though, where they aren’t really motivated by anything. Does that make sense?

I think when you aren’t motivated by your career, and you’re playing for mere enjoyment, it’s pretty obvious. Success turns that sort of thing into routine. What sucks is that the bands who avoid that are the ones I generally wanna see go somewhere and be successful.

Yeah, but you can be like the Hunches, and rarely play outside of your hometown and it all kind of adds to their mystique. Not that they (or us, for that matter) are that calculating.

You guys definitely have a mystique. Everyone has been going, “Where the fuck did these guys come from?”
Yeah, I’m afraid when we play we’ll suck and blow it.

So, what, is this a lot of pressure?
Sometimes. It’s just kind of stressful, like beyond all the coordination between the various members, there is the headache of getting everyone plus the equipment to the show, then there’s talking to the booker, the other bands, and the bar… the headache of the god damned guest list. Saying hello to all the people you know. It’s really tiring.

Funny you mention all the pressure. I was thinking recently that your band was like a release valve. I sense a lot of frustration from you. You have some really dark pent up emotions, and I guess perhaps that explains why everything on your records sounds so gnarled and vicious. But then again, your record is a total party machine. It’s a really great piece of escapism. It’s not a lot of whining or bitching.
I can be an intolerant, impatient, angry guy. But I like meeting people in other bands that I like and such. I feel more comfortable around those types of folks than most other aspects of life (work, everyday shit, etc). So for me, to bitch too much is gratuitous.

Well, there’s a lot of whimsy on your records. The music seems somewhat cathartic, I guess? But the actual intellectual property, the lyrics and all that are real fun. It’s an odd juxtaposition.
Yeah, I don’t know. It was just kinda, just doing it and seeing what happened. There was no really calculated motivation, other than not wanting to do “oh, baby yeah, wow I got the blues” type lyrics, or ’77 appropriation.

A lot of your lyrics are brilliant in the way the Three Stooges are brilliant, though.
Writing lyrics is my least favorite part of making music.

Really? The opening lines to “Rototiller” are phenomenal. I wanna punch an old lady whenever I hear them. That’s how good they are.
Thanks, that came from Tim, who wanted to call a song “Pushing Idiots Down the Stairs,” so I just kinda filched it.

What are the rest of these songs about? What the hell are you saying on this record?
I think that in general too much importance is placed on lyrics in the wake of Dylan. With the occasional exception, they work best if placed contextually with the instruments, so it just kind of blends together into one whole. But, yeah.

Rototiller: Portions are about a girl I used to know, although some of it is just nonsensical jabbering. To my knowledge, she did not own a rototiller, but I thought the main riff kind of sounded like one.

M. Malloy: True story… Mike Malloy was a drunk who a group of bumbling gangsters, called “the murder trust,” insured and attempted to kill in order to collect the insurance money. Initially, one of the murder trust, a bar owner, gave Malloy all the booze he could drink, thinking that the old rummy would drink himself to death. It didn’t work; Malloy would drink himself comatose and be back for more. When it became apparent that this approach was far too subtle, they began giving him booze laced with turpentine and roast beef sandwiches filled with thumbtacks, which Malloy consumed without any apparent ill effect. Once, after giving him enough turpentine to make him pass out, they rolled him into a winter night’s snowdrift and poured water on him; Malloy survived. One of them even hit Malloy with their car and he wandered back into bar a few days later. Eventually, they shot him, killed him, and got caught. Nai Sammons of the Piranhas contributed some wonderful guitar to this number.

Hot Plate: I was head over heels for a girl, who had completely shit-canned me. Her shit-canning me sent me into a tailspin of depression and self-doubt, and I was already kind of fucked up emotionally and certainly didn’t need anything else to accentuate it. Years later, I ran into her at a supermarket more than three hundred miles away and we had a brief conversation. She gave me her phone number. We were going to catch up on old times, etc. I called her, we talked some, and I was supposed to see her again, but she never returned my next call. I realized that, like an idiot, I intentionally placed myself in a situation that I knew would cause me pain that was otherwise totally avoidable.

Bertha Walt: I had bought the book “Maneaters” by Peter Hathaway Capstick, along with a book on contemporary Japanese sexual practices at a thrift sore. “Maneaters” is a really strange Reagan-era book whose author had a bizarre point of view that encouraged the shooting of any animal capable of killing and/or eating a man. Anyway, the book had some great stuff on famous cats that killed people, like the Panar leopard, as well as cannibals, piranhas, bears, sharks, alligators, carnivorous ants, giant snakes, wolves, pigs, and the sad account of Bertha Walt. She (at least I think it was a she) was a zookeeper who was killed and EATEN by an Indian elephant in Zurich in the 1940s.

Ron Campbell: Josh’s friend, supposedly a king amongst men. I would happily vouch for this, but I have yet to have the pleasure of making Ron’s acquaintance. Do not know if Ron has heard the song yet.

20″ of Monkey: Very straightforward song about getting stuck on a deserted island inhabited only by monkeys, and the monkeys eventually teaming up and killing you.

Hey Girl: Small Faces cover.

Sores: So named after someone I knew, who had a really horrible skin problem all over her arms and would wear sleeveless shirts and/or tank tops which just served to further illustrate her skin problem. I could tell everyone wanted to ask her what had happened, but not being rude, overcame all inquisitiveness.

Whale Hunt: Instrumental… the title probably influenced by reading In the Heart of the Ocean, which is a pretty hilarious book.

2 Left Legs: You’d have to ask Josh. He came up with the lyrics for this one. This song also featured the guest guitar of the talented Mr. Nai Sammons once again.

I find listening to your record a really enjoyable experience. Nobody ever describes music as “fun” or “funny” anymore. Why do you think that is? It that something you’re trying to go for?
Thank you. I am in no way a skilled enough musician to try and evoke a specific reaction. I try to play music that I would like to hear, and if someone finds it fun, I’m really happy. But to answer your question, I don’t know what exactly I was going for. I still think some bands are fun. I think the Black Lips, whom I love dearly, are fun, for example. I even think the Hospitals and the Brainbombs are fun, but I might have a different definition of fun than the average record consumer.

You had Nai on the EP. Anything unique pertaining to this experience?
I had the tremendous fortune of accompanying the Piranhas on their one and only trip to the west coast. I rode up with Larry Hardy from In The Red and filmed every show. I have the mini DV tapes sitting on my record shelf right now.
But… all the stuff I had heard about the Piranhas seemed so mysterious, and I didn’t think I’d ever get to see them. I heard vague word that they were going to tour the west coast, then Brian e-mailed me asking to help him book a show in L.A. We exchanged emails while I tried to find a show (the show I booked was cancelled because the venue was shut down) and I remember talking to Brian on my cell phone while on a layover at an airport bar in Hawaii. All the stories about the Piranhas I had heard involved blood and dead rats and general craziness, and when I talked to Brian he was such a nice, articulate guy that it threw me for a loop. Larry and I met the Piranhas for the first time outside the Comet in Seattle and I was struck by how nice they all were. The first night of the tour was an incredible show with the Piranhas and A-Frames, both of whom were great. The Hunches had come up and we all went to a party after in a multiple-story apartment building with only one unit rented out. I drank too much and kicked down a door and slept in the van with Ryan and Ami, while everyone else slept on a cold Seattle floor sans blankets. The tour itself, despite some setbacks (mainly involving San Francisco) was a success and I went to sleep every night happy as a clam knowing that the next night I would get to see another great show. In a row I got to see, in addition to the Piranhas every night and the aforementioned A-Frames, the Hunches, and the Hospitals. I got to climb to the side of the stage and film everything firsthand. Anyway, we had our overdubs at McHugh’s studio a day or two after the tour was finished, and Nai and his girlfriend were staying an extra few days in L.A. on vacation. Since I knew he had the spare afternoon, I asked him if he wanted to overdub some stuff. He stayed at my apartment, we went out to Mexican food and got some beer, I played him roughs of “M. Malloy” and “2 Left Legs” and picked up a guitar and figured out what he wanted to do immediately. The next day he drove down to the studio and overdubbed his tracks in about half an hour. If memory serves, I don’t think Tim has ever met him.

I heard something happened that delayed the record coming out for a while. If that’s true, what was it?
After Josh and I had been playing, Josh had to leave and stopped playing, and I started playing with Tim for a little while. Then Josh came back and Tim started playing bass and everything began to blend together really nicely. We played for a while, recorded a demo tape on cassette which was a recording of the songs we had on a cassette in a RadioShack tape recorder, which we thought sounded good. We got more ambitious and attempted to record some songs onto an 8-track Tim had, and we weren’t very happy with it. Josh then again had to leave the band; due to fiscal reasons he had to move out into the desert. We played at a party at a friend’s and it went pretty well. Then we got our first show with the Orphans, the Flash Express, and American Death Ray at the sadly departed JUVEE venue in L.A., due principally to the kindness of Brian Waters. We did well enough at this show that we got offered to open for the Deadly Snakes a few weeks later (so for the first half year or so the Lamps worked with Josh living a few hours away with no car, and we would periodically practice and he would get out here to play shows). At this Deadly Snakes show Larry Hardy of In The Red offered to do our record, and we didn’t think it would be the best time, with the band having started only recently and our being incapable of consistent practice. After Josh moved back we began practicing in earnest. It was incredibly difficult to schedule something that would satisfy all parties, with Mike McHugh’s studio, the Distillery, being (rightfully so) in very high demand. After we laid down tracks, it took fucking forever to find an appropriate open day to do mixing and overdubs and all that shit, which stretched it over a long period.

Are you happy with In The Red? I know Stonehouse from the Hospitals recently departed due to some differences in opinions with Larry. How has your experience been thus far?
I couldn’t be happier with the In The Red. Not only am I fan of the label, but I like Larry personally, he’s just a nice guy. I don’t know what exactly happened between the Hospitals – who I also love, I’ve seen them at least six times – and Larry, but I don’t think any real bad blood exists between the two. My experience has been great. I got to meet McHugh once before when I went stopped by with Luis from The Fuse! to see them recording the Hospitals’ first record. Just seeing the way he operated, and I think this word is used far to often and I would only use it to describe three or four other people I have ever met, I thought he was genius. You’ve heard just how harsh the production on the first Hospitals record is, and hearing it for the first time in that studio was insane. So, getting to record in there later was a incomparable treat.

The cover of the EP is one of the best we’ve seen in a while. I’ve seen it elicit a lot of different reactions. I even saw one girl cringe in repulsion and throw it across the room. Can you give us a little back story on the art and artist? Why did you go with that image?
It really just seemed to fit, and it’s not a personal effort to be mysterious on my part, but I’d rather not mention where I got the image from. I’m surprised it elicited enough reaction to have someone throw it across the room; this person seems rather high-strung.

Doesn’t one of you guys work at a funeral home or something?

Josh, drummer extraordinaire, was employed for a while at a mortuary with the aforementioned Ron Campbell, and for a year or so every night, Josh would go pick up bodies all across Southern California in a white van and drive them back to the mortuary. I think he got paid forty bucks per corpse.

Tell me a bit more about your band mates. They’re kind of phantoms in my perception.
Tim is really funny. A friend of mine described Tim as being like an alien from a very smart race that got sent to earth to monitor humanity, so he flies to earth and tries to blend in, but gets everything just a tad off. Tim prefers pinball to the Lamps, but comes along for the company. Josh is one of those people who can be happy doing anything. I don’t know if that makes sense.

We heard you recently helped Tim Warren move. Any funny or interesting shit happen during that whole process?
Probably the most fucked up thing that happened was Tim and I were in separate trucks driving through Utah on the salt flats. There were very high winds buffeting the truck when there was a flash of white in front of the windshield and the truck violently shifted. I got out and climbed up the cab and saw that the wind had torn the entire twenty-two foot long fiberglass roof off of the rear of the truck, and it was wedged in some undergrowth a couple of hundred yards away. I called Budget and they didn’t believe that such a thing was possible, without hitting anything. But the wind had just torn off the entire roof like the proverbial sardine can. Budget had a hard time locating another replacement vehicle, so we spent half a day in Salt Lake City, which was boring as shit. Also, later, due to strange house purchasing legal machinations, Tim, his wife Micha, and their dog Bando had to ride in one truck from Wyoming to western New Jersey in a single thirty-six hour period, while I was allowed the luxury of taking a few days by myself to do this. I had never seen the Midwest or the East Coast, so driving across the expanse I had never seen before was incredible.

I had actually helped Tim move into his place a year or two before that, and upon arrival from the mountains he found that he had this horrible hippy lady in his own house that refused to leave. California has some very good laws protecting the rights of renters, so she was able to weasel her way into squatting through some kind of loophole. A compromise was reached, and she eventually paid me and a friend of mine to move her shit out to her place, where she stiffed us on our check. We also had to move a whole truckload of her shit into an already stuffed storage space she had previously assured us was empty, and I distinctly remember violently throwing old furniture from the 1920s on top of this giant, twisted pile, out of sleep deprivation and annoyance and having to deal with this intolerable, intractable person.

When are we going too see The Lamps on tour, and what can we expect in the way of a live performance? I don’t know anybody who’s seen you guys play yet, so I’m really eager for you guys to get out here. How would you describe your live persona?
It looks like we are going up to the Northwest this summer. We are planning on going out to the Southwest too, and depending on our reception, and more importantly, how much fun we have, we may go do the East Coast and Midwest. But, we haven’t even begun to plan it. We would really like to play Austin, though. As for our shows, we just go out and play and try to do a good job. Tim used to dance quite a bit, but he has hurt his knee. Hopefully by the time we get back on the road, Tim will be healed and up to his former capacity as an excellent dancer.

Are you surprised at all by either the reaction to or the results of what you’re doing at all?
Sometimes, yes, when we get a particularly enthusiastic review, ’cause I don’t think we’re necessarily better then any other good band. I am happy, but it’s strange. It’s like, “SHIT, if I can do this, then anyone can!” So, being in a band perceived as being pretty good is some easy shit to do.

Have you been getting any negative feedback from people?
Not overt. We got some bad press in Arcata, but I think most people if they don’t like it just keep it to themselves, which is fine, I guess. I think they are afraid of saying anything bad about In The Red. I was actually afraid because ITR had been doing so well, I figured they were due for a backlash and we would be the ones to trigger it.

I think the Ponys are getting that.
Yeah, it’s inevitable with that crushing amount of hype. It’s just kind of sickening to me how someone champion a band, and then when they get popular abandon them and change their whole tune.

A whole lot, which surprises me. But then again there are a lot of bands out there that I think are awful which are receiving a lot of underground cookies and gold stars and shit. Why the fuck do you do the band, though? Are you a masochist or something? I am trying to figure out how the gratification measures against the hassles and the pressures for you since it seems like your life is kind of hectic as it is.
It still can be fun. I want to record another record. You do a song, you want it to be recorded so there is a record of it, and I still enjoy meeting people, y’know?

Well, you could still be meeting people outside of the band. Socially, how does your band affect your interactions with other musicians you admire?
I don’t really consciously sit down with a guitar and try and come up with a riff, thinking of all the people I could meet. Most days I feel like I have met more then enough people and would be perfectly content never meeting another one. Then again, I’ve met all sorts of great people through being in the Lamps, both through people who I’ve initially come in contact with through the band, or other bands we’ve played with or people we’ve met through our limited traveling. I think the remark might have come from my thinking that when I was in my formative years, none of my peer group really listened to the same type of music I did, read books (much less the kind I was reading), or was into the same cultural what have you that I enjoyed, so it was a lonely, alienating pursuit. Now, I’m still kind of bowled over when I meet someone who has similar tastes because when I was a kid the possibility seemed too abstract. I had met lots of musicians I had admired before I was in a band. There’s something really egalitarian about enjoying this sort of thing because you can meet someone who is doing really great, incredible stuff, and they are just riding around in van playing bars. But being in band, and getting to play with other bands you like is one of the most rewarding things about being in a band in the first place. It’s fun. I don’t know what difference it makes being in another band or not, because most bands are just happy to see any kind of friendly face, whether they are in a band or a fan.

Are you generally a social person? How do you feel about people in general? And if so, how do you react to the public’s response?
I’m not a very social person. I’ve got my friends and enjoy meeting people to some extent, but usually going out to a bar or a party makes me want to want to live in a sewer and eat rats rather then continuing to interact with the outside world. Even crowded shows give me the jitters. In general I try my best to be polite and friendly, but I’ve got a short temper and, as anyone unfortunate enough to know me personally can attest, am subject to drastic mood swings for no reason whatsoever, which isn’t a manner conducive to making good first impressions. More often then not I am content being by myself or with my circle of friends. Overall, I think people (with a few notable exceptions, such as Mike Lucas) are a horrible ignorant selfish scourge on the face of the earth, myself included.

I’m happy people seem to like the record, though.

What’s the L.A. scene’s response? I have no comprehension of what’s going on out there now.
The L.A. scene’s response seems to be pretty positive after our initial reaction of thorough ambivalence. L.A. has some good bands, the Starvations, the Flash Express, the Guilty Hearts are all friends of ours, and it seems like anytime we play a show one of those familiar and welcome faces are on the bill. The Lamps probably would have dissolved and never played a show in the first place if it wasn’t for my friend, Brian Waters from the Flash Express, who got us our first show without ever hearing us, just because he is that type of guy. Edgar from the Guilty Hearts is doing an exemplary job here, booking shows and finding venues and in general just giving the local ‘scene’ as such a shot in the arm by making it a desirable place to play.

I was reading through some weird contract thing for people who perform at our venue, and it refers to the performers in the bands as characters. In fact, there are certain things that you can’t legally do in public but you CAN do on stage as a performer if it were germane to the “character” of the band… describe you and your band mates as “characters” for me.
I don’t know. This probably sounds terrible, but when we play a show we just try to play the best we possibly can. I don’t assume some kind of persona like James Chance or something (not that there is anything wrong with that), we just go out and play. Tim has done two “Cowboy” shows, where he becomes a mean-spirited, homophobic, racist cowboy while playing, shooting at the audience, abusing them verbally, etc. – which was great the first time but I think I ruined the second one because we were playing so poorly and I was in such a disenchanted, low mood that I think I ruined Tim’s cowboy show enthusiasm forever.

We hear that you’re a big record collector. What kind of stuff do you look for in a band? Do you incorporate any of that same line of thinking in what you do? Is there stuff you listen to that you would never EVER want to play?

I don’t know what I really look for in a band, I think just in general you are always searching for something that’ll knock your socks off. And since I only listen to stuff I like, there isn’t much I wouldn’t attempt to play. I think one of the things the Lamps do is that, by musical incompetence more then design, whatever we try and play just ends up sounding like the Lamps. I wish we could do a proper ballad though. I love ballads but my only attempts and writing one have turned out dreadfully.

What level of importance do you place on your band in terms of career? Most people are very “career”-minded. Very serious. You at times seem self-deprecating about the whole operation. Where are you taking this?
The Lamps aren’t a career at all. If I was self-delusional enough to be serious about the Lamps as a career, I had better buckle down and get used to eating garbage and living on the street. We’re not especially commercial, we have a poor work ethic, and our ambitions have pretty much been completely realized already. I am tremendously lucky that I am fortunate enough to get to make records in my spare time, and I’m happy to leave it at that, rather then any aspirations/pretensions of a long-haul career.

I honestly don’t know where we’re taking it. Hopefully to Europe.

Tell me something I don’t know, Monty.
Did you know Rosey Grier tackled Sirhan Sirhan after he shot RFK? That Lars Finberg’s (from the Intelligence and the A-Frames) uncle went to high school with Captain Beefheart? That I got in a fist fight in elementary school with the son of the lead singer of the band AMERICA? That Josh’s grandparents tried to get him expelled from the Mormon Church because he lived with a girl? I’ve got some more, but I cannot think of anything else at the moment.

What’s the problem with Monty Buckles?
There’s a whole shit-load, let me tell you. Ask around, they’ll tell you. Keep your distance folks, because I’m one shit-bucket human being.

Thanks for your time… we really enjoy the record, and hope you come to Texas soon.
You’re welcome, glad you like the record, and I hope to see you in Texas soon, too.

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