Artist description At 6 feet, 1 inch, Eric is a large man, and, in more ways than one, he exhibits these attributes in a positive way, whether it be at the local Drive-In movie theatre, helping Mrs. Susan Parsons with her homework and dealing "lollipops" to the local "teens." As a boy growing up in the Alps, he would often find himself very, very cold, and would need to use a blanket to keep warm. One day, lacking a blanket, he instead dug his father's rusty old Epiphone guitar out of the woodwork, using it to keep festive and cheery for the holiday season. Upon redemption, he found himself drunk, out of a job and constantly discussing professional sports as though they were of actual importance. He eventually graduated magna CUM loudly in his graduation class of 333.4 students. This was a record, especially for a track star of such high moral standards, a man whose appropriations had their own cliches to match, probably to guide themselves through the 30-day-warranty slab of life. A wise man approached me in a park and wanted to discuss theory. Amazed, and aghast, I backed away, afraid of the fact that I was only half as cool as my parents before me, and that wasn't as cool, or rather was 50% less cool than they thought they would be, and I bought one AND got one free. And so, this brings me back to my epilogue, my soliliqouy, if you will, my mona lisa's paradise, my scent of a woman, my waist size, my appetite, my social dysfunction, my space cowboy, my Fred Savage, my Astrodome-drunk in the middle of the winter on a Sunday night at Aunt Betty's house after Cousin Willy just met up with Darlene, the girl who works as a waitress at a local pawn shop called "Cokey's Pawn Shop," and suspiciously so, if I may be so contrived as to add. As the misanthrope walked along the tightrope, he could no longer see the sightline, for the game of life was rendered blind, by a mashed potato of a fellow, barely capable of reading the morning paper without discussing the latest advancements in technology, you know, the kind of guy Dennis Miller makes fun of. I'm almost done describing myself, but, if you've actually read this far, you probably should know that I'm not going to stop anytime soon, and that, above all, is why the divorce isn't finalized! OK Harvey! Ya know what, just call my attorney; you don't deserve me anyway... You see, at the ripe old age of 31, I began to think about yoga. It excited me; what was it? Who was that fellow who did it? and Why on Earth wasn't I using the right punctuation? And what was I talking about? Now, if we begin to understand the place that I was coming from, and I'm not talking about home plate, if ya know what I mean, Cynthia Dixon, we should know that the day that we all die will be the metaphorical disallusionment beyond which all of loneliness fades away to happiness and then back again to copulence. Hell, Welcome to America! And the last thing that the arrogant man left me, was this, "Even the Culture Club knew that Boy George was little more than an acornberry of carthage meat, a spine-tingling cartel of courage, spun from the very same web woven in 1956, the same year that I met Alice. And besides, I DON'T SMOKE!" Scotty Gets Markered. Yea, the whole thing was fucked up last night. It was funny though. I was in my room with a girl. I was real drunk and high last night. So I remember to start having sex with her, but I blacked out in the middle of it. So I don't know how long I went for...but I didn't get off. She said that we just stopped and talked for a while, and then I told her to leave. I don't remember any of this. You might be asking yourself, who blacks out having sex? I didn't think it could be done, but... so this girl sleeps on the couch, and I was clearly passed. So J.D. starts going to town on the upper half of my body. Then he gets some friends, and they walk in and look at his work. I think at this point the girl was awake and giggling. I must have been real fucked up though, cause I was out cold. So now these people are in my room, and then they decide they are going to get my legs. So they pull down the comforter and I am laying there buck naked, lim dick with the condom still on. So at this point everyone is laughing real hard, I imagine. So Turtle goes to work on my crotch area, and even marked my balls and dick. Keep in mind this is all with a Magnum too. That shit doesn't come off. So I guess they all left. Somehow at this point I wake up, and am covered in marker. Keep in mind again that the girl is still in my room. She is getting dressed and about to leave. So I am trying to talk to her real serious to stay, with a dick on my mouth and my whole body covered. Then I hear a wrestling outside my door. And I can hear them fidgeting with the door. So I'm like, (internal monologue) "I'm gonna get these fuckers!" and I am just standing there at the door, with my fist ready for them to open up. And as soon as Turtle opened the door, I started wailing on him. So then I convinced the chick to stay, and she left at 12:30 this afternoon. And I still have marker all over me.

Music Style Alternative Pop-Rock with a little bit of Americana

Musical Influences Ryan Adams, Pete Yorn, Whiskeytown, Dave Matthews Band, Phish, Jack Johnson, Sublime, Everclear, The Beatles, Bob Dylan, The Who, Counting Crows, 2Gether, Spinal Tap, Stillwater

Similar Artists Ryan Adams, Pete Yorn, Matt Nathanson, Steve Poltz, Jack Johnson, Dave Matthews, Bob Dylan, Howie Day, Keller Williams, Counting Crows, Richie Havens

Artist History Important Dates: On May 4th, 1984, Eric was born to two proud parents, neither of which was a huge fan of Janet Reno's. NOTHING HAPPENS AT ALL circa December 2000, Eric practices for the first time with then bandmates Steven DiLeo and Michael Widman (not exactly Showtime at the Apollo, if ya know what I mean.) At the next practice the lineup nearly doubled as reputed moron Michael Fodera signed on ("a mistake from the beginning") along with keyboardist Sean Tendler. Our drummer, or should i say FIRST drummer was Brian Wolfer. Then, Phil Jean joined the group, and the lineup was complete. Eventually, 48 lineup changes later, the band played what appears to be its final show, winning its Battle of the Bands competition, which in and of itself was probably an excuse to pillage the student budget worse than the Reagan administration. On June 9th, 2001, Eric and his fellow hooligans were arrested again for ripping off parking meters again. The lousy vermin were apprehended by Sheriff G. Ranger Davis in Forester's Park in Washingtonvilleland, Missouri. I don't regret having to pull the trigger, not one bit allright, so lay off grandpa!!!!!! On August 21st, 2002, Eric left for what is commonly referred to as college at Washington University in St. Louis. Seven sodomy arrests and six grand theft auto convictions later, he loves school and always likes to go back. Eric has since opened (sorta) for the likes of Busta Rhymes, Talib Kweli and Better than Ezra (Clearly by specific recommendation from those acts.)

Group Members Eric Leventhal

Instruments Eric Leventhal - Guitar and Vocals

Albums The Digression EP - 2002, Untitled January 2004 Release

Press Reviews Siskel and Ebert each gave me a thumb up. When Siskel died, I kept his. (My apologies to the estate of the late Gene Siskel.) "Eric is absolutely brilliant. He's definitely better than the Spice Girls. He might even be, dare I say, better than Los Del Rio..." - Joan Rivers "Eric is witty and inventive, and he doesn't smell as bad as Robert Downey, Jr." - Susan Parsons "I am really hungry." - Mohandas Gandhi "S.T.Dee - Licious" "He's kind of like Yanni with no hair! Haha! Oh - something serious, you wanted something serious? Gee I'm sorry, what did you say his name was again?" - That old guy that works at the carnival "You mutha-f**kas is all crazy" - Mother Theresa "Stop shoving that microphone in my face, I don't know who the hell he is, allright. Just lay off. I'm not your son anymore..." - Billy Dawson "He's really cute, kind of like Dan Fogelberg" - Eric's mom "The boy's a moron. He can't even take out the trash, let alone play a guitar. What you've got here is a case of the Milli Vanilla syndrome, lip-synching with style." - Eric's dad "He's the best singer-songwriter since Steve Urkel!" - Wilma Hawthorne, Music Monthly "He's so good, he's never not gotten a bad review." - Eric's (long-suffering) publicist "Oooh...he was so gooood girl!!!" - Harvey Fierstein "I don't care who whe is. I just don't want to end up like Jesse Camp, Kennedy, Dave Holmes and Pauly Shore." - Carson Daly

Location Jericho, NY - USA

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