Artist description Swampy Junkabilly Bluegrass Rock played on home made Instruments

Music Style Swampy Rockabilly Lo Fi Junkabilly Bluegrass

Musical Influences BoDeco, Wall Of Voodoo, Hasil Adkins, Flaming Lips, Hank Williams, Beck, KISS, Ralph Stanley, Presidents of the United States of America, Louvin Brothers, The Cramps, 16 Horse Power, Freak Water, Weezer, King Kong, Johnny Cash, The Cars, Dead Milkmen, Modern Lovers

Similar Artists The Cramps, Beck, Johnny Cash, 16 Horse Power, Hasil Adkins, Flaming Lips, Bodeco, Wall of Voodoo

Artist History Scott Scarboro has been creating music under the name Monkey Boy for the past ten or so years. Monkey Boy mixes traditional jaw harps, slide guitar, dulcimer, stomp boxes, fiddle and drums with an odd assortment of contraptions made from electronic toys, coffee cans and other what-nots. He sometimes wears head dresses and eats tomatoes in one bite. His songs are mostly childhood memories or things he's read in the newspaper. Scarboro is often accompanied by other musicians that have learned how to pluck, pick, bow, beat, and tweak lovely sounds from his home-spun instruments.

Group Members Scott Scarboro Karen Welch Butch Celani Alan Canon

Instruments Jeeter-Tone(supped up Silvertone), Mutant Fiddle, Electric Jaw Harp, popcorn Barrel beagle bass (up right Bass made from tin popcorn can), Junky rat trap drum set, Stomp boxes, toys, see website for more...

Albums "Monkey Bumpkin Fever", "Pap-Paw", "When Monkeys Fly"

Press Reviews No one expected the fetus to gestate successfulIy inside the new host. "Homosimian" was a top-secret project conducted in the Sixties by Nazi eugenicists. It was concealed and funded by the Freemasons. Attempts were made to surgically implant a fertilized human egg inside the womb of a chimpanzee. Twelve months later, an ape concubine gave birth to a half-human/half-chimp freak child, with super-normal abilities and no practical application whatsoever. The human donors were criminals, lunatics, derelicts, addicts, prostitutes, and bartenders. The chimpstresses were cute, furry, and generally pleasant. There was one successful birthing but the mutation and Its mother escaped. Through a series of dubious events, the creature was found by an Indian shaman/junk peddler in the swamps of Louisiana. There the ape-boy learned the magic and wonderment of alcoholism, the ancient craft of sticking pieces of junk together to create even junkier pieces of junk, and why his penis suddenly enlarged whenever he thought about girls (and what to do about it). But most importantly, he learned the blues. Years passed and Dame Fortune suckled the beast-lad to her ample bosom. He was adopted by an unassuming barber in Louisville, Kentucky. Once here, the boy was defanged, his tail was cut, and his hairy ass was shaved. He was named "Scott Scarboro", an archaic Celtic expression meaning "that place where puss doth fester". He was made to appear and act reasonably human. He may look like one of us, but he is not one of us. He is the Monkey Boy So much for rumor... and for speculation... and for rumors of speculation... and for gossip of theories of hearsay of rumors of speculation. What now follows is a chilling, actual account of what I saw, what I heard and what I smelled. A Monkey Boy stage looks like a collision of "Mr Science" meets "Sanford and Son," with few survivors. Coffee cans, planks, and buzzing, blinking boxes, all with wires running between them, populate the stage. There were enough homemade musical instruments to make Eugene Chadborne orgasm all over his electric rake. Don't ask me how, but from this plethora of whatchamacallits and thingamajigs, therarose music. One musician plucked something that remotely resembled a bass. The other Monkey minion provided percussion (by beating on abunch of"stuff"). The Monkey Boy himself whipped out a series of catchy licks and riffs on a "modified" slide guitar/microphone. The sound was brutal and jagged, but infectious. The blitzkrieg of rhythm would have sent General Rommel's jack-booted toes a 'tappin'. In a short time the audience was hooting along to the chorus of "Crank is coming to Kentucky," a raucous homage to this under-appreciated and excellent narcotic. From there, the Monkey Boy strummed into the ballad-esque "Potato." a tribute to nature's ugliest produce. Showman-like, the maestro donned a pair of self-made, monstrous potato shoes and then proceeded to strut and flounce his footwear about the stage, flailing away on the Jew's harp. The pace hurried again for such rambunctious ditties as "Helen Kraft," "My Daddy's a Barber," and "Polar Bear," with the classic image "snow-white Leslie Nielsen hair." Still, one song, "Chick-a-Dee may have the best lines: "My chicken ain't got no tail feathers/when she stands up, it looks like she's sittin' down." All the while, a slide-show behind and over the band displayed pictures of some anonymous families doing routine and silly things; which, in a way. is kind ot appropriate. Monkey Boy songs are matter-of-fact stories with touches and turns of perversity, cleverness, morbidity and humor. "Codpiece", for example, concerns the saga of a young man whos dreams of rock stardom are foiled because Monkey Boy never makes the guy a damn codpiece. How many times have we heard that tragic tale? Despite the humor and oddity of the songs and the instruments upon which they're played, it would be wrong to dismiss Monkey Boy as a novelty act. The songs are as strong melodically as they are rhythmically, and delivered with fun and passion. Make no mistake, Monkey Boy has the chops to take this forceful, unique, scorching sound and make it all work. It's a bit like a runaway beer truck-very scary, a lot awkward; but, with a load of good stuff inside, and unstoppable with a head of steam. --a review from "the Official Burt the Cat Fanclub Newsletter" #16 October '97 p.22, William Chad Nunn

Additional Info many Live tapes and other Projects

Location Louisville, Kentucky - USA

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