From its earliest days, a band like The Queeves could do nothing but Just. Plain. Rock.
Oh, to be sure, there were plenty of naysayers; there were those who said, “No, no, please! For the love of God, please don’t rock so incredibly hard!” Yet while they listened to The Queeves, almost invariably, to a man, those people would have strokes and lose control of their bowels.
Chances are, you’ve never heard of The Queeves. Which is a tragedy. These two guys are so goddamned punkrock, that if you used the phrase “punkrock” to describe their music, they’d punch you right square in your stupid face. They’ve been thrilling crowds of eight, and perhaps even ten people with their blistering live shows, playing now-classic barnburners like “The Old Man’s Boner” and “Iraqi Balboa”. I defy you to find a song of theirs with more than, like, three or four chords.
And if you like your rock to be socially or politically relevant, don’t you dare count on these two assholes! These fellas are young and dumb, emotionally retarded, psychologically stunted; the type of kids who would burn ants using a magnifying glass. They spent their teenage years huffing rubber cement, and still don’t quite know (or care) how to properly tune a guitar.
At this very moment, they are either at work on their forthcoming debut album or, far more likely, throwing rocks at cats and smoking old cigarette butts in an alley. Nevertheless, Jet Black Records will be ever-so-delighted to release whatever ear-assaulting atrocity they end up concocting. Expect this in late 2018.