NYC BUS TRIP
Sunday Dec 21
These vagabond shooozzzz…are leaving todayeeeee…
That’s right, we’re going to be a part of it, New York, New York!
It’s time for the annual chartered bus trip to NYC. Traditionally on the Sunday right before Christmas, it gives you the chance to see Times Square, NYC’s famous Christmas Tree, the real “Miracle On 34th St” Macy’s, and end the day in the East Village with free live music at the infamous Otto’s Shrunken Head.
The bus picks up in Quakertown at 11 am and Easton at 11:30. It’s a chartered Bieber bus with bathrooms and BYOB is allowed. Tickets are $40 and non-refundable.
Don’t miss this chance to see what Christmas looks like in the most famous city in the world. We’ve done this several times now and it truly is a wonderful memory. I hope you can join us.
R4R Benefit a succes!
Donations still being accepted at
Native I & I
to debut the Ravens Nest Fri Nov 28
to open for Steepwater
at Muach Chunnk Opera House
Past Events & News
tons of great artists,
prizes, raffles, and auctions.
Bobby Messano 8pm
Mike Dugan 7pm
Gary Rissmiller 3pm
UBACE kids presents 2:30pm
What benefit? Where? Why?
“YOU DON’T LOOK SICK …” they say, “…you LOOK pretty healthy.”
Yeah, that’s what I think. I’m not walking all bent over with a crippling disease. I’m not getting all skinny and frail looking. I’m not dead…yet. There’s people all around who look worse than me, and they’re doing fine.
And that’s the deceiving part. I don’t really feel that sick either. Well, not deathly ill…sore and achy…some stomach problems …depressed sometimes…always tired. And sometimes delirious. Flashbacks? Just getting old?
Not quite. I have liver disease and hepatitis C, (genotype 3A,) and I’ve apparently had it since the 80’s. By now it has permanently damaged my liver to the point of cirrhosis, which eventually leads to cancer of the liver, then death. I found this out when I was put in the hospital two years ago, August 2012.
My first hope was a brand new cure coming out that doesn’t even have a name yet, but it turns out it’s only for “genotype 1.” The next cure available for me is a $1,000 a day pill for 6 months, which has milder side effects than the next option…
The cheaper, but still costly, cure that the insurance companies will want me on is a 3 month pill/injection combo with Interferon. (Anybody familiar with hepatitis is familiar with this word. I never was, now I am.)
In the past this method required 6-12 months of weekly injections, and had only a 50% chance of being effective. Now it’s a higher success rate, but the side effects of interferon are debilitating: fatigue, fever, chills, and depression. I’m being warned that I better figure on two days off after every injection.
Lots of people need this cure, in one way or the other. Some get it because they can afford it, others get it free through some poverty program or something. I’m caught in the middle, I pay for my own insurance (do you know how hard that is as a “musician”?) but how much insurance companies are willing to compensate is a big question.
I have thousands of dollars of bills right now just from finding all this out and I haven’t even gotten started. Don’t get me wrong, thank God I have insurance. They’re covering 80% of most of this, but still, after not asking for help for two years, I’m losing this battle. Financial advisors have explained to me that this benefit is to battle existing costs and primarily allow me to not lose the insurance I manage to have.
Thanks to your help I can beat this. I don’t have to let it continue to kill me. This benefit is not for a funeral. It’s a day full of hope and awareness, complimented by great music by great friends all together at once. The response and help I’ve gotten already is mind-blowing, flattering, and emotionally touching. I can hardly wait to celebrate with you.
Thank you for making that a possibility.
Sincerely, and I mean it man,
Circa 1959, reaching for my big brother’s guitar, a 1954 Gibson EC 125.
Happy Independence Day
Well it’s a hot one so far. But in honor of the Holiday, I thought I’d show you a related article that I submitted to the July issue of a new fashion and music oriented ‘zine called STEELNOTES. It may not be on line as of this date (July 2) but here’s the article, and a link. I have articles in the May and June issues too. (http://steelnotesmagazine.com)
MAN! I could hardly wait to get back to America!
When I started my punk rock band The Fux in 1996 I burned an American flag. I didn’t hate America, frankly I didn’t think much about it, and I wasn’t intending it to be disrespectful. I just wanted to create controversy. Actually it was more about burning a guitar than anything, the flag just happened to be handy to cover the back of the guitar I had.
I covered the back of the guitar, added a few modifications, and it was ready. It’s primary purpose was to upstage a friendly rival band at a summer festival. I tried a practice rehearsal with the guys and it worked. It was awesome!
The show went great. The punk rock recklessness of it all and the energy of a guitar on fire… the fact that it was a flag burning added to the anarchy atmosphere.
That was the beginning of our fiery escapades and putting The Fux on the map. I went on to fine tune the act, making it safer, getting it to the point that I could actually play it with my teeth while it was burning. (Jimi would have been so proud.) We started doing sets, then small local tourism then bigger ones, then the North Eastern US, and finally England!
I was still using an American Flag on the guitar for burning which went over well with our new British “mates.” Back in the States there were mixed reviews. Some were naturally offended. Others in the Anarchy scene really dug it. It didn’t bother me either way. The whole purpose in calling ourselves the Fux was to not have to care about being politically correct or following the norms and rules of the radio airplay status quo. I really had no political agenda, it was just fun as hell! Hold that thought…
A band from England, Panic, comes over to the US to go on tour with The Fux. By coincidence, it is the 4th of July. Now first of all, regardless off any special holiday, they are awestruck by America as soon as they land, much like we were upon arriving in the UK. They saw huge bridges, fantastic skyscrapers (NYC) and the music! Station after station of everything! Why, there’s not just one station playing non-stop rock ‘n roll but THREE! (Britain had only BBC 1, 2, & 3, and rock was a 1-2 hour time slot in the course of selected periods throughout the day.) Totally unrelated to this article, I asked them what was the first thing they wanted to buy. They said Converse sneakers (“trainers” they called them. Funny!) and Taco Bell! OK back to the article…
The “Revolution! US vs. UK Tour” was booked in NYC, Buffalo, Chicago, Nashville, Atlanta, etc. (a play on the our 4th of July, celebrating Americans freeing themselves from English rule. “Down with the British!” we were yelling. “Kill the rebels!” was their reply.) But even by our decadent standards the parties were especially obvious due to the 4th of July. They didn’t have anything like it. They had a vandalism night, celebrating that bloke who tried to blow up Parliament. What’s his name? I don’t know. I don’t even care. I’m really don’t know about politics, here or there. And I don’t have to! That’s part of the point of this whole article.
So here’s what our humble UK-punk rockers-on-the-dole were learning about us: It’s a big party!The whole country is in on it! Keggers. Pool parties. Babes with tans in bikinis. Hot rods all over the highways, pulling along side of you. FIREWORKS! Explosions of colors everywhere, all the time! Jesus there was a car in EVERY driveway! TWO of them and more! It was all just like the movies but REAL! When those guys had to leave they practically cried. I felt bad. We really kind of faked them out. Hold that thought. Don’t worry, I tie it all together by the end. You have to keep reading though. It’s your [patriotic duty. Especially if you want to criticize me.
We go to Europe. Land in Germany. The promoter is from the former East Germany, but by now the wall was down. He was lucky, he just made it. He had received higher education and therefore qualified to work for the government. He was rewarded with the privilege of being able to order a car! And he had a choice of TWO to pick from (those ugly Russian boxy-things.) Wow! Of course it was a 4 year waiting list. Then, as he said it, the wall came down and he was just able to go buy one. Any time, anywhere, any kind, like all the other Germans in “the West.”
That’s one example of the communist influence I saw. Being as he was from Eastern Germany most of the place he booked were former Communist Block venues and countries. It was an obvious thrill for him to see ALL of Germany as we all traveled together. I mean, we totally were digging it but I was surprised to see him kind of amazed at so much of his own country that he just never had the opportunity to go to because he WASN’T ALLOWED.
So we land and proceed to the first show. Another band from Spain (actually Portugal, I can’t tell) and one from Sweden are on the bill. The driver from Swedish band is there but not the band itself with the van they are to supply for us. We find out that they weren’t allowed over the border because they only had enough bribe money to get the driver in his car through to come meet us. The band and van turned back to go get more bribe money. Damn.
From the very first show we are asked “is your music Fascist or Ant-fascist?” And we get asked it a lot. And sometimes by little kids. What the? I heard the word “fascist” more times in one night there than I heard my entire life. And when we drove into another country, which you could do in less than a day, we heard the same thing. Yeah, you can just drive straight in any direction and you’re in a different country with different languages and different spellings. These countries seemed so small, yet the governments of each were huge. Everybody knew politics. Even kids.
Europe was indeed wonderful to see. For me, it was new, different and beautiful. But there was something sinister underneath. We’d go to a little town to play and the monument in the center square would be an old Soviet anti-aircraft gun. We saw towns that had been reduced to rubble during the war that were still trying to be rebuilt. In Czech it didn’t seem to matter if they were still communist or not. Nothing really changed for the poorer people in the mountains and stuff. They didn’t have any more or less of anything. They mainly had less, like they were used to.
In Czech we were treated like rock stars. Kids came from miles around to see ANY band play ANYTHING. We were stationed in this huge abandoned building of a venue (that’s what many venues were, bombed out factories that people would take over to squat in.) I swear I didn’t see a kid the whole day in the little village at the bottom of the hill where we were staying. But when it was showtime, up on top of this hill, there were thousands, coming up this hill like ants. I don’t know where they all came form! There was no crowded parking, nobody had cars. There was no radio promotion. Social media consisted of a poster hanging in the town square. These kids had no personal computers, iPods, or cell phones. Nope.
So when a show comes to town EVERYONE went to see it. ALL of the crowd listed to and watched ALL of the acts, no matter what kind of music it was. There was real solidarity (another word I was hearing a lot now.) The support was massive. When a band took a break, everyone left the building to smoke (this is before smoking regulations. It was just too dangerous to smoke in these places.) When the next band came in they re-packed the place. The volume, vibe, and interior heat rose 100%. It was awesome, impressive, and flattering. They really, really appreciated us.
After four dates in Czech we are scheduled to go to Austria and then Italy. We approach the border of Czech/Austria. We are three bands in a van and a car. And a beat -up looking van and car. (The car lead the way with a driver, a co-pilot, and another passenger or two that rotated between the van and car. If you were in the car, you were driving or reading the maps.)
We pull up to the check-point and get stopped. We can’t go through. We see them waving on the nice newer cars, all Mercedes and BMW’s and stuff, and us poor filthy punk rockers are being questioned. “ Papers and ID!” OK, we have them. “Passports!” OK, ok. “Vehicle information!” It goes on and on. They actually weigh the vehicle. We go to get out and they rush us-”Back in the car!”
What’s going on? Well, they just didn’t like us, that’s all. We looked like…gypsies or something. “Cross somewhere else!” they said. Cross somewhere else? That’s thirteen hours away! Why? “We would get in trouble letting you pass. Try somewhere else.”
We turn the vehicles around (happy to get he hell out of there) and go back to the gas station right at the border. It slowly starts sinking in. That’s a former “check-point Charlie.” They can do whatever they want. There’s no rules. We have no rights here. They can just arrest us if they feel like it. And then who would know? Who would even find us? Hell, ten years ago they just SHOT anyone crossing here.
Now pretty, scenic Europe isn’t so fun anymore. We drive thirteen hours through god-forsake Czech, through horse-and-cart towns that are pure dark with no lights at all, just praying we won’t break down. I swore a werewolf or vampire was going to pop out of the woods at any moment. And it did! “Look out! There a ghoul!” Oh crap, it’s just a Czech prostitute trolling for Germans near the border.
Seriously, it was scary. We had to drive back up to Germany because that’s where we had been let in, and even then there was no guarantee that we would definitely be let out of Czech. That’s a scary thought. And it was growing on me. This sucks! And the damn maps…towns with names like Mnzcektzck or Kstvpigtz and whatever. I swore to my bass player that if we ever got out of there I would never fear being lost in Pittsburgh again! When we reached a new border at on ein the morning I called my wife just mentally and physically exhausted. I slept in a fetal position (that’s all the room there was in the back of the car) all the way to Italy, waking up at 7 am at the bottom of the Italian Alps. (Awesome!)
So here’s where I tie at all together…Boy was I glad to be back in America! i never cared about politics (and still don’t) but I thank God I live in a country where I don’t have to. I don’t have to worry about who’s who or what….I don’t even need to know who the President is to have a car in the driveway. Or have a car even. Or a driveway!
And I won’t get shot or imprisoned for having an opinion. Or not having one. And I have “rights” and stuff! I can probably be found if I end up in an accident or a jail somewhere. And I can drive for miles and hours and days and weeks and still be in America with all these privileges. There’s so many different cultures in our own country-the south, the north, the west…all different accents and cultures, but all the same language. And the same map. I can pronounce the damn names of the towns.
I know there’s exceptions to this, and there’s lots of problems with our system. I don’t even know what I’m talking about when go into those topics, but guess what? I DON’T HAVE TO! Ahhhh what a RELIEF!
OK I burned a flag. It was phase. I didn’t go to jail for it. I still burn a guitar for shows and I don’t use a flag but I’m proud to live in a country where I could. I’m grateful to live somewhere that I didn’t need to know politics, be scared to have a religious faith or voice an opinion, and be able to travel to different states without getting a third degree.
I don’t know much about all this stuff but I definitely believe that many of the people I’ve met that having nothing good to say about America just never really had to live anywhere else. Go ahead and try it loudmouth. Go live in a country the size of Kentucky and see how you like your options then.
But until then shut the hell up! It’s time for a party!
The Birthday Deal:
So it’s June 5th one year and I’m celebrating my birthday enjoying my favorite birthday wish for as long as I can remember: just playing guitar in a band.
My wife has made a little party of it at Grumpy’s BBQ for the weekly jam, and people congratulate me and stuff, some even have a little card. But I start hearing comments like this: “It’s my Birthday this Saturday!” or “My Birthday was yesterday!” and I started feeling kind of guilty that I was getting cards. So I gave them one of mine.
Then I began hearing “My Birthday is the day after Christmas” or “It’s the day before” and finally “Mine is on 9/11. It USED to be the greatest day of the year for me, but now everyone hates that date.”
The next year I was celebrating my Birthday Playing at The Perk, but this time I had Xeroxed a bunch of my homemade cards to give to everybody. My thinking was let’s all celebrate together! And half way through the year is perfect-it’s nowhere near Christmas, and it can kick off the summer.
It mad sense. There’s a Black History Month. A Jazz Awareness Month. There’s month celebrating something all the time, I’m not even aware of them all. So why not a month for EVERYONE’S BIRTHDAY?!?
Well, that’s my nomination for the next awareness month. And I’m going to write my Congressman about it as soon as I find my crayons. Meanwhile, join me in June and lets sing Happy Birthday to each other. I have a card for ya!
you missed the
NYC BUS TRIP JUNE 8th
This is simply a BLAST! And it’s SIMPLE!
We pick you up before noon, you get on a bus with your friends, BYOB, we take you to see some great sites and hear some great bands, and drop you back off before midnight!
We did it for the Christmas Holidays, taking everyone to Times Square, Rockefeller Center, Macy’s, and then the infamous Otto’s Shrunken Head for live original NYC music.
This trip we focus on Otto’s scenic surrounding area. All within walking distance are parks, eateries, watering holes, then of course live music and the bus ride home.
The bus is only $35, picks up in Quakertown and Easton. It has a bathroom and BYOB is allowed. There’s no cover at Otto’s but you’ll want to have some spending money.
Some of the stuff you can do just by walking:
and there’s TONS of stuff in between!
Pick up a flyer from me or any of my bandmembers. That serves as your itinerary and deposit receipt. Contact me with questions. All tickets must be cash and are non-refundable.
DON’T DELAY! DO IT TODAY!
Looking forward to seeing you with a souvenir!
The Hard Lickers. OMG, wasn’t “The Fux” bad enough? What sophisticated establishment wants to hire that name? Plenty! Given the option of choosing between “Roman & The Heard” or “The Hard Lickers” it’s a draw: half choose the Hard Lickers. In one venue we went in as The Heard, explained the schizophrenic story and we came out re-booked as The Hard Lickers.
Well the month of March concluded Saturday with a very rainy last Hard Lickers gig in Sellersville (JT Bankers) and we move onto April. There was tragedy (Mad Dog’s passing) and victory (auditions resulting in more work.) We hope to see you, sans snow, in the coming months. Thanks everyone for your support. God Bless, and “keep the dry side up”
3 /12 Requiem for a Blues Brother
On Tuesday March 11 at 4:10 am my friend Rick Mad Dog Moyer died.
At first Rick “Mad Dog” Moyer’s “Mad Dog & Blues Night Out” was a just job for me. I didn’t know him or what he was about. I didn’t understand the band name. That VAN! Yikes! Well,I traveled in worse. He saw me at the Lehigh Valley Blues Network Jam at The Emmaus Fire Co. #1.
I was there right off of a punk rock tour, interested in learning blues, and he was scouting for a replacement guitarist. We jammed and he talked to me and figured he could polish off the rough edges on me.
But he was wrong. I knew nothing about blues, touch, tone, or technique. I was from punk rockers The FUX, smashed and literally burned our gear, listened to the Sex Pistols, Hendrix, fusion, and was now jumping on the Stevie Ray Vaughn Wannabe Blues Band Wagon.
My solos where mush. Distorted rock stuff void of any soul. “What is all that crap!” he’d say after gigs. “Stop trying to copy Stevie Ray Vaughn. Listen to who he was copying” When he found someone doing the more appropriate style, like he’d heard on his Little Walter and Junior Wells records, he fired me.
My replacement could play simple blues “properly” but lacked other important essentials. Couldn’t stand bars. Didn’t like smokers. Couldn’t stay up late. Had a family he needed to be around all the time. When he wouldn’t travel I was back in!
I was better now, but still trying to utilize effects and pedals when all I really needed was my own fingers, style, and soul, a guitar and a good hot tube amp. I was eventually fired again, replaced by one of MD’s past guitar alumni whom I had originally replaced but was now looking for work again.
One day he called me up and said “Roman, I need a road dog.” He had booked out of town jobs and couldn’t find anyone willing to travel. I was used to it. Road work is tough. You live on the road and in a van. On the punk circuit I actually slept on my guitar cases in Germany so I didn’t have to sleep on the broken glass of the pub floor.
And you better get along with everyone. You better be a “people person.” Crunched up in a van doesn’t bring out the best of everybody. If it’s cool with you, it’s great. All you do is play. You play at night, sleep somewhere, wake up, think about playing, practice, and play again.
By this time I was in NYC regularly with my own acts and had met, studied, and played with Bobby Radcliff, a stellar blues guitarist that came from Chicago with the late blues legend Magic Sam. Being with him it finally clicked. No effects, just a guitar, an amp, and feeling. It’s easy to play the blues but really feeling it is different. Expressing it is even harder. In any genre people know when it’s sincere. BB King plays one note. You play the same note, his KILLS, yours is just a note.
We finally had a good musical fit. We recorded his second album “You Gotta Have Some Fun.” I co-wrote the title track. All my tracks are one take, no effects, not even reverb, on just an old strat plugged into a tube amp. They added some ‘verb after the fact, but recording like that, with no sustain at all, nothing to hide behind, not even reverb, is a task. You really better know it and feel it.
By now I had many miles and gigs behind me with Mad Dog. Many gigs and road work lay ahead. My God, the stories! Good, bad, dangerous, hilarious…you’d think we made them up when you hear them. I accumulated great ones, and Rick had so many I never heard one twice. He had a story for practically every STATE in the US!
The Man Behind The Harp. The Harp King. LOUD. No requests! His show, his way! He had a vision in his head and heart that was solid and uncompromising. His idea of the blues was simple, basic, pure and undiluted. I was always trying to incorporate newer sounds, styles and effects, add R&B, some country, jazzy stuff…hell, at least some minor key progressions. He’d agree, which shut me up, try it at practice, but never really dug it. Then at the gigs he wouldn’t do them.
One time he finally agreed to let me have a solo on a country-type thing he did. At rehearsal he’d give me the solo then at the gig he wouldn’t. One night I totally lost it. I was so frustrated I went up and shoved him while packing up and cursed at him. A bunch. When I called the next day to say I’m sorry he informed me that I had broken one of his ribs. Ooops.
Still, he didn’t lose his cool. Even in pain he didn’t even yell at me. He threatened to hit me with a crowbar, but he said it very calmly. I never saw him lose it. Of course I was fired again, but even then it was like, “Roman, I don’t want to fire you. But I have to.” Hey – I agreed with him!
Despite our difference of opinions and influences I learned an awful lot. I worked steady on blues, feeling it, and performing it from the gut. It was no nonsense on the job. Dress code, proper attitudes, long sets. A professional show. Road Dogs together. I still can’t believe there will be no call coming for some gig somewhere…probably far away…long drive, long hours, minimum pay. And that I’ll never be fired by him again. I’m going to miss it.
I knew Rick Mad Dog Moyer. I rode with him and have no complaints.
a.k.a. Matt Roman
3/10 Rick MAD DOG Moyer
Tragedy in the local music scene as a great mentor, friend, and band mate of mine is stricken with liver cancer and lymphoma. The infamous Lehigh Valley Music Awards celebrated 40 professional years of the Dog in the area with a Special Achievement Award yesterday Sunday March 9. His is in critical condition as I speak and I am dreading a phone call with bad news.
I was honored to accept the award for him along with a half dozen Mad Dog Alumni to present to his granddaughter Nikki and say a few words on his behalf. I will elaborate on that when the time comes.
For now I will say he is a great man, and deserves your prayers and blessings. He never hurt anyone physically or verbally, was always cool and never lost his temper, was patient, understanding, and humorous. And I’m just talking about the man, not the musician. As a man he was a model that I will always look up to.
There is to be a benefit for his medical expenses Sunday March 23 at Pitchers in Allentown, PA. GO!
Ahhhh I can’t go on. More, unfortunately, later godammit.
3/1- New News format
Hi everyone! I decided to approach this NEWS page a little differently. I just don’t have the time to keep it current otherwise. If you’ve noticed there’s never really very current news for long, so maybe I can change that.
I’m going to use it more spontaneously and just quickly type what’s on my mind about what’s new without detailing it with connecting hyperlinks, etc. Gonzo journalism if you will. No fancy pictures, links, no spell checks! Get all the details and links in various schedule pages, Reverb Nation sites, etc. Use my front page to get details and links there.
OK so band news is The Hard Lickers. Now it started as a little jokes (the last time I did that was “The FUX” and look how well that worked out) but it turned into actual jobs (just like the last guys did!) It is Dave Hollingsworth on drums, Randy Graser on bass, Yours Truly on guitar. We all try to sing. We’re doing covers, but we like to think we pick a more interesting variety. We go for an unexpected style and arrangement, sometimes changing the time, tempo, key, and even progresion entirely. And just to make sure we’re f***ing you up we’re throwing in some FUX originals too.
I also have Roman & The Heard which I reserved just for the occasional gigs in NYC. (Myself, Joe Mac guitar, Tim Sostak bass, Jean Carno drums.) The thing is The HEARD is a little more serious sounding socially acceptable than The Hard Lickers so you’ll probably see me using The Heard more than the other. Those of you who know and love the NYC line-up need not be disappointed, that’s who will continue to play those jobs.
But I’m going to start combining the two and using The Heard band name everything: for all the press, variuos dates, etc. I have a couple solo gigs in March and I start the month at a favorite of the Hard Lickers, the OBR Hotel, in Quakertown,
So Roman & The Heard (The Hard Lickers/ Heard members) have a few jobs coming up, most notable a quick one-set audition at The Pattenburg House in Asbury (not Asbury Bruce-Springstein Park) NJ. We’d love to see your attendance there for the quick 9-10 one hour set on Wed March 26 to help us get our foot in the door.
Check my schedule for details, and I’ll update the news as it feels good. Meanwhile stay warm and cozy, get my FREE MUSIC APP from Reverbnation for Android, and get to a jam or out to see me.
Get on up. Get into it! GET INVOLVED! HEYYYY!
3/2 – What’s in a name?
So yeah I’m combining all my efforts, bands, band members, and various styles under the basic group name of ROMAN & THE HEARD.
That isn’t to say there’s no more Hard Lickers, Kind Of Blue, or FUX (God forbid) because all those bands and the unique personalities that made them are still requested and available. But at any given show you may have a collaboration of any these acts and of the many great musicians I have had the honor to work with.
It will be a matter of what’s appropriate and who is best for that job. There is a time of place for Kind Of Blue’s smooth jazz, The Hard Lickers unique covers, the irreverent FUX. But they are all a part of my schizophrenic personality…they are all part of The HEARD.
So HAVE YOU HEARD? If not, GET SOME!
Happy New Year
This month Roman Music proudly presents, straight from their debut in NYC,
Yeah man, it’s a new year and I need a new scene! Look at my schedule and catch me playing original rock with GLUE FACTORY!
GLUE FACTORY is a full sounding 5 piece band that writes heavy, mellow, psychedelic, and spacey (a la REM) and rock (Foo Fighters) originals with a cover or two thrown in. We’re working on a show but first we’re working out the bugs. See them NOW cheap!
They’re called WHAT!??! WHO?? It’s
The HARD LICKERS
To fill in spare time I took the notorious GF drummer and bass player Dave Hollingsworth III and Randy Graser and started the 3-piece party band The HARD LICKERS. It’s an alternative choice of covers to bring a taste of the NYC Heard into your favorite drinking holes in PA . Listen for the less overplayed rock, blues, R&B, and reggae favorites and sing or maybe even jam right along with us.
See you soon!
Well we filled the bus to go to NYC, and that will be a blast. But there’s lots of other stuff happening in December 2013:
Glue Factory is making a few more appearances to assess strengths and weakness’s so in the New Year they can be ready for some spring and summer showcases. See them now trying!
The Hard Lickers, an independent rogue trio of Glue Factory employees, are continuing to have some fun frolicking around with covers-twisting and turning them upside down to give you a new appreciation of “original arrangements.” This coming season and New Year they are playing at some new venues. The word must be getting around.
The Jams jam on. Grumpy’s and The Perk’s schedule will remain unaffected by the holidays, but the Washington House Last Tuesday Jam will be replaced by the annual New Years Eve celebration of the Wash House and Sellersville Theater. It gets packed!
Also, Roman Alone continues to play with himself in the most pleasing and politically correct manner, applying smooth jazz instrumental styles to standards and rock covers, from Miles to Hendrix.
And finally there is no FUX news to announce at this point, no fuXmas parties so far. Sob!
Have a great Holiday!