by Kevin Deweber
When I was in my early teens, I was trying to figure out my personal tastes and interests. I made it as far as: “I don’t like beans in my chili, and I REALLY like boobies.” But I was beginning to form an understanding of what I liked culturally as well. It was around that time, that late one night, as I laid in bed listening to 94.5, something…weird came through my speakers. It wasn’t the music of another Seattle Sounder, or the death rattle of an 80’s band trying desperately to remain relevant. It was angst, and passion, blues, and punk rock. It was like the love child of Lynyrd Skynyrd and the Ramones made sweet, sweet love to Reverend Horton Heat. It hit all notes, musically, and emotionally. A wild man piped out sounds I didn’t know a person could make. He mispronounced things, he twanged and howled through choruses, the bass and drum being omnipresent, hypnotic, and relentless. The guitar riffs, piercing and visceral. That was the first time I heard “Possum Kingdom” by The Toadies. I was hooked. Continue reading
