The Jim Jones Revue
Burning Your House Down
Punk Rock Blues

The congregation is sweatin’ and moanin’, children, for Jim Jones, the white man, has come to claim the bastard blues. Oh Lord, yes! One for the money, two for the show, like Jerry Lee and Elvis before him, Mr. Jones rattles every single one of your bones. His midnight Revue, leather-faced retinue, a real pack of cool, shakes shacks with the best of ‘em, and only the loudest, fuzziest, hip socket rock will do. The former Thee Hypnotics and Black Moses front man is on a mission and completely out of his mind, his greasy-haired head down, and three albums in three years (including 2008′s self-titled album and 2009′s Here to Save Your Soul) is a real heavy load, but not even a great ball of fire is gonna stop his screamin’ train from rollin’ on. Garage funk, Motown soul — it’s all kinds of righteous rock n’ roll, doused in gasoline, with a sonic swagger that would make Scott Morgan proud. Goodness gracious!

Check out the video for “High Horse” from Burning Your House Down!

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
Beat the Devil’s Tattoo
Abstract Dragon/Vagrant

Friends and I used to have discussions about who we would let into our cool club (the adult kind, not the school boy kind) if we ever owned one. The kind of place where only the hippest cats on planet earth would be allowed to drink, fuck, and create. Not that excluding people is necessarily cool, but we considered it more of a human dress code, if you will. And to be alive certainly wasn’t a prerequisite. In fact, it always turned out that the guest list created during any given discussion included mostly dead heroes. Somehow, death made you cooler. So, who would be allowed into such an exclusive club? Well, people like Neal Cassady, Pierre Trudeau, Marlon Brando, Jack Nicholson, Joe Strummer, Charles Bukowski, Sailor Jerry, Janis Joplin, and Tom Waits, that’s who. There was always an argument over whether Johnny Cash should make it in or not. Being tagged as a bible thumper has its drawbacks. Anyway, I always used to, and still do, imagine the ever-evolving line-up of house bands that would play this club. Thee Hypnotics every once in awhile. The Stooges once a week. And Black Rebel Motorcycle Club as often as possible.

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