In rock's crazy cosmos, some bands are happy to drift in the outer reaches of the galaxy. The Toes, however, (some of whom have day jobs in the music biz) have set their hyperdrive for the heart of the black hole. They sound like an explosion in the punk racks of an NY record shop, and speak the language of the MC5, Ramones, and occasionally Black Sabbath. They look and behave like they belong in a circus.
See, The Toes might just have a solution to the rapidly suffocating Mycoldjjmuseplayvitriol72 sink of emotive, but essentially dull, guitar music. We might have been here before; the stage is packed with men in hats carrying signs and slogans (like, Regular Fries anyone?), but there's nothing intrinsically wrong with that. Outlaw rock's schemers and wheeler-dealers and we'll be one step away from a police state.
The Toes might not take themselves too seriously, but tonight when they play extracts from their forthcoming 'Lung Oyster Blues' EP, they hint at an amazing rock'n'roll carnival. It's a bright and loud ride. As it should be.
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