Artist description The filthy people involved with this band are from the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains and in such have nothing else to do.Meet Richie, Will and Bob. Three all American boys from West Virginia, who will be releasing their second album on Roadrunner Records on May 31st. They like to collect guns and worship Satan. Will (the guitarist) was a male escort who collected stamps. Rick (the bass player) who have described as "incredibly gifted" was President of Pennsylvania. No one knows why Rob (the drummer) quit his job as a van machine for his child molesting uncle. They are well known for writing bad checks and beating smaller people up when their backs are turned. They are always described as much better than asshole flavored cancer cakes. They don't like vocals."Wild Wonderful.. Purgatory" is an instrumental album, born out of the boys' dreams of sex, drugs and rock and roll - and the reality of their drug added lives. Their music is as loud as it should be and as furious as it possibly could be from the world's most laid back rock stars.As you may notice, none of the tracks have song titles. I guess the boys couldn't be bothered. The only reason they named any of the tracks on the last album is because their singer was dyslexic and sucked at numbers, but he's gone now.They did come up with an album title though; "Wild Wonderful Purgatory" (This comes from the Virginia license plates, which read "Wild, Wonderful West Virginia"). The album consists of 8 new songs plus 4 that were only ever released on a 10' EP in the US. Come to think of it, that particular 10' EP was called "Wild, Wonderful and Apocalyptic". Guess the boys cant be bothered to think of a new album title either.But they didn't have to, really. Their music doesn't need to be named, it just needs to be listened to.

Music Style Instrumental Heavy Metal

Musical Influences AC/DC, Queens of the Stoneage

Similar Artists AC/DC, Queens of the Stoneage, Kyuss

Artist History Arrived in New York City, Ave A, four hours late. G greets us in the middle of the street as we attempt to parrallel double park, it was as though he had been watching from a window above. R does a good job of blocking the entire street and we slowly empty the van of our booty and place it in the elevator in the foyer to the background music of a few New York motorists honking and swearing at us in Spanish. Once inside G explains that we needed to get the drums done today. W explains quickly and tersely that we should just record live and see how much we can keep of everything. G agrees, that plan is better. We record all eight tracks by 11 pm. We go to our hotel. None of has slept in two days. Unfortunately the hotel is a couple blocks from one of my favorite places to score drugs. I take a walk and score some cocaine from some thirteen year old Latino on a BMX bike. He takes my money over to an old woman sitting on the corner with a grocery cart full of trash. She pulls a brown paper bag from the midst of the trash and pulls out some triangularly folded papers. One of them is handed to me and I race back to the room not knowing or caring if its real. We discover its real back at the hotel room. W dishes out the lines. W always dishes out the group cocaine lines. When I am in charge I tend to put everything out in three huge lines. I like to watch people vibrate and lick their pasty gums. The only problem with that though is you are high as hell for an hour then bitchy for the next five. I like that ratio but no one else does. The first bar we hit is the last bar we hit. At the bar R explains to me why blonde haired girls' pussies stink. I disagree claiming that stinky pussy is in the eye of the beholder. Disgruntled R leaves me to begin hitting on a blonde playing pinball. I walk over to the bar to order another beer when I notice a woman who looks alot like Yoko Ono sitting by herself. I order a beer and slide into the seat beside Yoko. I told her I was sorry about John's murder and assured her I had nothing to do with it as I was busy helping Jesus remaster some of his old tunes that day. Its tough to shoot when you got your arms around Jesus I chuckled. I told her all about Jesus'es new stuff and how if he could just get some backing he might really take off. I know no radio is interested in instrumental heavy metal but Jesus really has a strong core fan base. Yoko ignores me and continues looking like Yoko sitting next to someone who looks like me. I ask if she has spoken to John since his murder. I sensed that that question aroused her in some way. In fact I think it made her wet. I imagined Yoko and I gettin it on. Would she break up my band too? No fuckin way. Although perhaps my assessment was too quick as I had never fucked an Asian chick, I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. My mind traveled to a dimension where only cocaine can take you. I begin to imagine Yoko lying naked and face down on John's grave, while I snorted line after line of cocaine off of her ninety year old Asian ass. Then turning her over using only her hair I would force her face into my crotch. I imagined her woofing down on my cock like her rent money depended on it. I even imagined that she had not gotten up and left which is what she actually did. That lousy old bitch probably had a stinky pussy is what I immediately suspected, then I realized she was actually a witch that had assumed Yoko's drug addled body in order to read my sexual thoughts. I felt very used. This was certainly no way to treat a Kwizat Hederach like myself. I decided to check on R's progress with the stinky pussy at the pinball machine. I arrived in time to hear him confess to the Jon Benoit Ramsey murder. Apparantly a fan of passion murderers the stinky pussy agreed to a night of naked tickle fighting with him and his share of the cocaine. They immediately left for the hotel. Jealous I walked over to W and feigned disgust at R's choice of cat for the night. W was too busy gnashing his teeth together while simultaneously attempting to lick his lips to answer my moot point. I made a mental note to hold the cocaine next time. Bored and alone I decided to read the thoughts of the sexy Bartender who had electrical tape where her eyebrows should have been. Apparently the electrical tape blocked my psionic advances and all I picked up was a moment of self doubt. Quickly realizing the doubt was mine I reassured myself with several moments of self-indignation and headed for the juke box. The crowd had thinned since we had first arrived some fiteen minutes earlier or was it two hours? In fact the crowd had begun to take on a suspiciously male dominated aura. W approached me and concurred with my fears. The entire crowd had penises and the bartender was obviously a lesbian. The shame of our flight out was that I had already put my two bucks in the juke box and I would not get the satisfaction of playing the perfect songs in an otherwise imperfect shithole. Stupid lesbian with tape for eyebrows my brain murmured as we waddled through the night searching for the hotel. A smell of rancid salmon wafted up to greet us as we opened our hotel door. God was R ever right about that pussy. However I was quickly overcome by bewilderment when I ventured further into the den of stench in a frantic quest to open a window and found R sitting alone on the couch. It was made apparent to W and I that blondy had bailed the minute R had taken his shoes off. Mental note; guys with dreadlocks feet smell like a rotten corpse. We all fell asleep to the blissful hum of our brains on speed sometime after sun up.

Group Members Will - guitar Rob - drums Rich - bass

Instruments Guitar, Bass, Drums.

Albums Wild, Wonderful, Purgatory. Karma to Burn

Press Reviews "KTB are the purest rock band on Earth right now, there is no pretense, no b*llsh*t..." -KERRANG Nov. 99

Additional Info New album coming in winter

Location Morgantown, WV - USA

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