This'll be the first of many band name posts to be added to this site. Feel free to use any of them for your band, or for any album, joke, conversation, art piece, or booger you might have in your life. All these names are unused, so far as I know, and if they are used, I commend those bands for good taste, or at least for their ability to name things.
(Comments as to genre, sound, or something else in parentheses.)
Tar Babies (possibly a more mainstream Immortal Technique, but also could be a punk group, though I prefer it weren't) Shit!!! this is actually already a band (a very white band) from Madison -- and shit!!! they ARE "punk-funk" -- possibly the worst genre ever, but just as I suspected -- why can't their be a good band with a good sociopolihistoric name?
The Actuary Friends (math rock, of course!)
Sandwiches! (credit to Cush for this one: he said Jam Band, but more and more I'm thinking faux-glam, ala Diamond Nights or The Darkness, with the lead singer to call himself The Earl of Sandwich -- the medieval British nobleman from whom sandwiches derive their name)
If We Don't Jewish, Who Will? (overhyped indie pop ala Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, but they sing in Yiddish, possibly to tour with Maneshevitz, but definitely not on JagJaguar Records)
Major League Buttkicking (buttkicking rock'n'roll -- a good band, but not groundbreaking -- stuff to bang your head to, to move your ass, but nothing to make you say "shit: fuck my eyeballs"
That's all for today. More soon . . .
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3 comments:
I think I'll take credit for "major league buttkicking" as well, thank you very much.
Here's another one to blow your mind out with: "Famous Potatoes", which is the license plate slogan for the state of Idaho. Jam Band. Natch.
Breaking news: If We Don't Jewish, Who Will? was just signed to Absolutely Kosher.
I think that Major League Buttkicking was a mutual effort, Cush. One of us said it, quoting Ninja Turtles, and I think we simultaneously shouted "Band Name!"
By the way: Band Name! will surely be used sometime in the near future by some indifferent hacks who will never release an album and play at college pubs for a few months, maybe getting a handjob in the coatroom, a story that they will tell fifty years later to their lameass grandkids who will either not care, or listen politely in anticipation of their measley inheritance.
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