REVEREND HORTON HEAT + NASHVILLE PUSSY

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REVEREND HORTON HEAT

Loaded guns, space heaters, and big skies. Welcome to the lethal littered landscape of Jim Heath’s imagination. True to his high evan- gelical calling, Jim is a Revelator, both revealing & reinterpreting the country-blues-rock roots of Ameri- can music. He’s a time-travelling space-cowboy on a endless inter- stellar musical tour, and we are all the richer & “psychobillier” for get- ting to tag along.
Seeing REVEREND HORTON HEAT live is a transformative ex- perience. Flames come off the gui- tars. Heat singes your skin. There’s nothing like the primal tribal rock & roll transfiguration of a Rever- end Horton Heat show. Jim be- comes a slicked-back 1950′s rock & roll shaman channeling Screamin’ Jay Hawkins through Buddy Holly, while Jimbo incinerates the Stand- Up Bass. And then there are the “Heatettes”. Those foxy rockabilly chicks dressed in poodle-skirts and cowboy boots slamming the
night away. It’s like being magically transported into a Teen Exploita- tion picture from the 1950′s that’s currently taking place in the future.
Listening to the REVEREND HOR- TON HEAT is tantamount to injecting pure musical nitrous into the hot-rod engine of your heart. The Reverend’s commandants are simple.
ROCK HARD,
DRIVE FAST,
AND LIVE TRUE.
And no band on this, or any other, planet rocks harder, drives faster, or lives truer than the Reverend Horton Heat. These “itinerant preachers” actually practice what they preach. They live their lives by the Gospel of Rock & Roll.
From the High-Octane Spaghet- ti-Western Wall of Sound in “Big Sky” — to the dark driving frenetic paranoia of “400 Bucks” – to the brain-melting Western Psyche- delic Garage purity of “Psychobilly
Freakout” — The Rev’s music is the perfect soundtrack to the Drive-In Movie of your life.
Jim Heath & Jimbo Wallace have chewed up more road than the Google Maps drivers. For twenty- five Psychobilly years, they have blazed an indelible, unforgettable, and meteoric trail across the globe with their unique blend of musical virtuosity, legendary showman- ship, and mythic imagery.
“Okay it’s time for me to put this loaded gun down, jump in my Five- Oh Ford, and nurture my pig on the outskirts of Houston. I’ll be bring- ing my love whip. See y’all later.” – Carty Talkington Writer/Director
Rev your engines and catch the ser- mon on the road as it’s preached by everybody’s favorite Reverend. Don’t forget to keep an eye out for the 11th studio album from REV- EREND HORTON HEAT, boldly ti- tled Rev, due out January 21st.

 

NASHVILLE PUSSY
Lemmy personally blessed Nashville Pussy calling them “America’s last great Rock and Roll band”.
…and Lemmy should know. Over the past couple of decades, Nashville Pussy preached its sleazy gospel alongside Motörhead in every rock outpost from Asia to Europe and back again.
Raised on a diet of Marshall stacks, Gibson Guitars, Jack Daniels and weed, Nashville Pussy is the bastard offspring of foul mouthed demented hillbilly ice-cream man Blaine Cartwright and tractor driving, nude art school model guitar prodigy Ruyter Suys. Born deep in the Baptist Bible Belt of Kentucky – Blaine Cartwright used the Ramones and The New York Dolls to maintain
sanity – meanwhile in Vancouver Canada, 8 year old hippie kid Ruyter Suys picked up her father’s guitar playing along with Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix.
“We got married on a dare after dropping acid, Nashville Pussy is our baby,” says Suys.
Blaine and Ruyter left their Nashville home when their house burned to the ground. “We were forced to tour incessantly or face the fact that we were homeless” Eventually choosing Atlanta as home, “Because the bars stayed open later.” Nashville Pussy quickly gained a reputation for being like “AC/DC with a female Angus” in Ruyter’s blues meets punk frenzied guitar solos and Blaine’s hilarious “jailhouse nursery rhyme” lyrics. Rowdy and unpretentious; Nashville Pussy got voted ‘best local band’ in opposite ends of the country their first year of touring.
Their debut album “Let Them Eat Pussy” was recorded and mixed in 5 days for $3,000, picked up by Mercury records for a million dollar contract during a signing freeze and Grammy nominated for “Fried Chicken And Coffee” for Best Metal Performance.
The band has also found fans with the Mob; The Sopranos featured “Drive” in one episode and their songs have also been in Entourage, SuperTroopers, Cartoon Network, Jackass The Game. They have performed at Wacken Open Air, HELLFEST, Dynamo Festival, Roskilde, Leeds and Redding, multiple appearances on Canal Plus Television and even done voices and cameos in movies.
After the whiskey bottles emptied, Nashville Pussy rocked. Six studio albums later, the band has now played in front of hundreds of thousands of fans in nearly forty countries, sharing stages with some of the biggest bands on the planet, including ZZTOP, Marilyn Manson, SLAYER, Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath and LYNYRD SKYNYRD. “We’ve played everywhere from little shit kick joints in bum fuck towns to topping the bill at 20,000 seater festivals in Sweden,” adds Suys. It doesn’t matter to us how many people are in front of us. We always kick ass and rock like it’s the last show on earth.”

Where do Nashville Pussy find inspiration for their outrageous lyrics? “We farm our own adventures for fuel. Tragedy becomes comedy as soon as Blaine writes about it,” says Suys. “Our old bassist got carried out of New York’s exclusive Spy Bar kicking and screaming, so we just wrote a song about it, ‘You Give Drugs A Bad Name’. Most of our songs start with a big dose of truth.”
This badass lifestyle takes its toll. But instead of resorting to Keith Richards infamous blood transfusions to rejuvenate themselves
Nashville Pussy found themselves new blood. Spicy Colombian/Californian Bonnie ‘Bon’ Buitrago began as a teenage fan of the band sneaking into shows, determined to make the leap from audience member to member of the band by mastering her craft on Bass.
Atlanta native and ex-landscaper Ben Thomas on drums has quickly become known for his showmanship, precision and all around sensuality behind the kit. “Everyone is always looking for the next John Bonham, we found him mowing our lawn!”
Many now believe the band has assembled the classic Nashville Pussy lineup. This rhythm section is the foundation on which Blaine and Ruyter – who still regularly tops polls of ‘world’s best female guitarist’ – build their ferocious growling sound. “We are Rock n Roll’s dirty little secret, blissfully outliving musical trends we never knew existed,” says Suys. “More than ever, everyone needs to escape to a place where they can pretend they don’t give a shit, let their hair down and get loud, sweaty and dirty. Nashville Pussy provides that unpretentious refuge. Everyone is welcome – just don’t dress up ‘cause it’s gonna get messy.”
“If there’s been a better band than Nashville Pussy to open for Motörhead, I’ve never heard them” – Lemmy
NASHVILLE PUSSY:
Blaine Cartwright; Rhythm Guitar, Vocals
Ruyter Suys; Lead Guitar, Background Vocals Bonnie ‘Bon’ Buitrago; Bass, Background Vocals Ben Thomas; Drums