Here's the latest from Suck Cock City, UT courtesy of SLUG Magazine:
The Yuppie Pricks may be a gimmick band, but their gimmick works so well and they rock so hard you won’t even care. Posing as conservative millionaire douchebags, the Pricks deliver ironic, scathing and often hilarious indictments against the ruling class. Vocalist Trevor Middleton sounds like Jello Biafra at his snottiest, and the rest of the band takes more than a few cues from the Dead Kennedys and other early-80s punk rockers. "Greed is Good" and "Fraternity Days" are funny, if a bit predictable, but one of the best tracks is "Collars Up." Who ever would’ve thought there would be a punk rock song that advocates the ever-so douchey practice of collar-popping? Protest songs are all over the place these days, but they’re rarely as clever or effective as the 10 tunes found on Balls. –Ricky Vigil
Monday, October 6, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
More Proof God Hates Poor People
Galveston wiped out by a hurricane? Who cares??? Let's talk about something REALLY important, such as Travis Barker and DJ AM's latest 'mash-up' admist the burning wreckage of what was formerly their private lear-jet. Now maybe you're saying to yourself, 'That's NOT hot, dude' - but we beg to differ. Did you hear what happened to the other four passengers? That's right - they're all dead. And we bet you don't even remember the first thing about them. Why? Because they're penniless, no-name, talentless hacks who couldn't get a photo op if they were on fire - which they were, literally. Meanwhile, two of American's biggest douchebags are kicking back in the finest burn unit money can buy, hooked up to a primo IV drip of morphine, and pissing themselves over all the sweet Florence Nightingale poonanny being shoved in their slightly toasted faces. Plus, they get to finally have all that plastic surgery they'd been planning for months done in one go. And lest we forget, a good plane crash never hurt anyone's record sales. Buddy Holly, Lynyrd Skynrd, Ozzy... the list goes on. Fly a plane into the side of a mountain, bus, whatever, and boom - instant multi-platinum status. Our advice - fire your travel agent. Then hire him as your new business manager - that guy's a GENIUS!!!
Sunday, September 14, 2008
For Once, Left Is Right
Looks like the liberal media is finally coming around to our way of thinking... check out our latest review courtesy of our slightly-less-misguided-than-we-thought-friends at Left Of The Dial Magazine:
Yuppie Pricks/Balls: Chicken Ranch - "Former clean cut, vest-wearing honchos from Alternative Tentacles, these Austin punk ramblers stab out an approach that is more like the Fleshies than their fellow citizens Complete Control, producing rambunctious hybrids like “G.O.P.” which actually sounds like Jello Biafra singing for the late period Buzzcocks (actually the tune hijacks the ‘Cocks’ “E.S.P.”). To keep things grounded in blatant localism and Texas fun punk pride, they also unhook a hell raising, big guitar swagger version of the Big Boy’s “Frat Cars,” just to expose their relished roots. “Male Models” strikes a match that burns like Southern California punk, sing-along slobbers and all, though it’s actually a butch version of the Undertones song (and not the Sleater Kinney song of the same name!). Their own swan song of pride and punctiliousness, “Loser,” unloads lines about guys pumping gas, empty pockets too big and blank to pay for cocaine, while the yuppies like the band fill the nation with a portfolio of white lies of proper world order. The irony drips like bacon fat, even flooding back into the song “Greed is Good,” which reads like a rampant and raging treatise by Adam Smith, cataloging how we should “squeeze every dollar from ever deal,” squeeze the hell outta lemons for lemonade, and avoid the wasted work of lunch time. “Prick4Life” could even make a fan of the Supersuckers bang their dirty hair across the floor in Budweiser bellows. Lastly, note how they really churn the machismo sex sauce and steal the swagger from the Black Crowes on the album cover. Get your Izod collars up and prepare the naked girl sushi, the time is ripe for raking in the fortune!"
Yuppie Pricks/Balls: Chicken Ranch - "Former clean cut, vest-wearing honchos from Alternative Tentacles, these Austin punk ramblers stab out an approach that is more like the Fleshies than their fellow citizens Complete Control, producing rambunctious hybrids like “G.O.P.” which actually sounds like Jello Biafra singing for the late period Buzzcocks (actually the tune hijacks the ‘Cocks’ “E.S.P.”). To keep things grounded in blatant localism and Texas fun punk pride, they also unhook a hell raising, big guitar swagger version of the Big Boy’s “Frat Cars,” just to expose their relished roots. “Male Models” strikes a match that burns like Southern California punk, sing-along slobbers and all, though it’s actually a butch version of the Undertones song (and not the Sleater Kinney song of the same name!). Their own swan song of pride and punctiliousness, “Loser,” unloads lines about guys pumping gas, empty pockets too big and blank to pay for cocaine, while the yuppies like the band fill the nation with a portfolio of white lies of proper world order. The irony drips like bacon fat, even flooding back into the song “Greed is Good,” which reads like a rampant and raging treatise by Adam Smith, cataloging how we should “squeeze every dollar from ever deal,” squeeze the hell outta lemons for lemonade, and avoid the wasted work of lunch time. “Prick4Life” could even make a fan of the Supersuckers bang their dirty hair across the floor in Budweiser bellows. Lastly, note how they really churn the machismo sex sauce and steal the swagger from the Black Crowes on the album cover. Get your Izod collars up and prepare the naked girl sushi, the time is ripe for raking in the fortune!"
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Thou Shalt Covet Thy Neighbor's Balls
From YuppiePunk.org:
Check out “Balls,” the new record from the Yuppie Pricks, which we’d be remiss not to link to since their name so close to ours. Great album cover too — an homage to the Black Crowes’ banned cover for “Amorica.”
Check out “Balls,” the new record from the Yuppie Pricks, which we’d be remiss not to link to since their name so close to ours. Great album cover too — an homage to the Black Crowes’ banned cover for “Amorica.”
Sunday, September 7, 2008
A Critic's Guide To The Yuppie Pricks
Recently we came across another example of classic liberal media bias courtesy of the San Francisco Foghorn. San Francisco - home of the red-diaper doper baby... who'd have guessed they wouldn't get it?
But what's particularly brilliant about this gem of journalistic gerrymandering is that after spending three and half paragraphs praising our genius - mostly through plagarized quotes from our bio and existing press - they have a sudden attack of white, liberal guilt, and slam us in the final few sentences.
And we were getting along so well. Pity.
But since some people seem genuinely confused when presented with an album as intellectually challenging as Balls, please - allow us to simplify what is apparently an overly complex process for some of you:
Step 1 - Open The Friggin' CD.
We know this is a tough one for most of you so-called 'critics' - esp. with your dick in your hand. But if we can chop out a line on the dashboard of our M3 while doing 120 MPH with two fingers in a super-model's snatch and a bluetooth in both ears, then we think you should be able to open a little plastic case, take out the bright, shiny object inside, insert it into the appropriate slot, and press 'play'. Do we really have to draw you a diagram?
Step 2 - Listen To The CD.
Just a reminder for our good friends at Blender/Maxim (see previous post), as well as our gal-pals over at the 'Horn - it doesn't count as a 'review' if all you did was read the song titles on the back, regurgitate a few quotes from our publicist, and call it a day. Although we will give you credit for proving that you can actually read and write at a 6th grade level, and aren't just a high-gloss version of Highlights Magazine. Sometimes we have our doubts. Blender did just run a feature on the Pussycat Dolls talking about 'reincarnation'. FAIL.
Step 3 - Absorb The Message.
We understand that not everyone is blessed with the intellectual cajones to fully grasp our message - but we think we can dumb it down enough for even you. So here goes: We have wealth. And wealth is awesome. Therefore, through the transitive properties of wealth, we are awesome. This is why we make all your money, drive all your cars, and bang all your bitches. Simple.
Step 4 - Embrace The Lifestyle.
A lot of bands talk about being successful, but very few tell you how to actually BECOME successful. But we can't help those who don't want to help themselves. Go get a tattoo that says 'Prick4Life' - then maybe we can talk.
Step 5 - Don't Puss Out.
Sure, we've heard it all. From the 'novelty' band tag, to the DK's comparisons, to the simple refusal to acknowledge our status as the single greatest thing to ever happen to punk rock. But if you think you're ready to step up to the plate and levy some ACTUAL criticism, then prove it by doing something other than recycling the same tired, old rock critic cliches. We need a good laugh with our morning cup of joe. You know - the one your mom pours for us everyday? Someone's gotta' pay the bills while you're still living out of your parents' basement, holmes. Out.
But what's particularly brilliant about this gem of journalistic gerrymandering is that after spending three and half paragraphs praising our genius - mostly through plagarized quotes from our bio and existing press - they have a sudden attack of white, liberal guilt, and slam us in the final few sentences.
And we were getting along so well. Pity.
But since some people seem genuinely confused when presented with an album as intellectually challenging as Balls, please - allow us to simplify what is apparently an overly complex process for some of you:
Step 1 - Open The Friggin' CD.
We know this is a tough one for most of you so-called 'critics' - esp. with your dick in your hand. But if we can chop out a line on the dashboard of our M3 while doing 120 MPH with two fingers in a super-model's snatch and a bluetooth in both ears, then we think you should be able to open a little plastic case, take out the bright, shiny object inside, insert it into the appropriate slot, and press 'play'. Do we really have to draw you a diagram?
Step 2 - Listen To The CD.
Just a reminder for our good friends at Blender/Maxim (see previous post), as well as our gal-pals over at the 'Horn - it doesn't count as a 'review' if all you did was read the song titles on the back, regurgitate a few quotes from our publicist, and call it a day. Although we will give you credit for proving that you can actually read and write at a 6th grade level, and aren't just a high-gloss version of Highlights Magazine. Sometimes we have our doubts. Blender did just run a feature on the Pussycat Dolls talking about 'reincarnation'. FAIL.
Step 3 - Absorb The Message.
We understand that not everyone is blessed with the intellectual cajones to fully grasp our message - but we think we can dumb it down enough for even you. So here goes: We have wealth. And wealth is awesome. Therefore, through the transitive properties of wealth, we are awesome. This is why we make all your money, drive all your cars, and bang all your bitches. Simple.
Step 4 - Embrace The Lifestyle.
A lot of bands talk about being successful, but very few tell you how to actually BECOME successful. But we can't help those who don't want to help themselves. Go get a tattoo that says 'Prick4Life' - then maybe we can talk.
Step 5 - Don't Puss Out.
Sure, we've heard it all. From the 'novelty' band tag, to the DK's comparisons, to the simple refusal to acknowledge our status as the single greatest thing to ever happen to punk rock. But if you think you're ready to step up to the plate and levy some ACTUAL criticism, then prove it by doing something other than recycling the same tired, old rock critic cliches. We need a good laugh with our morning cup of joe. You know - the one your mom pours for us everyday? Someone's gotta' pay the bills while you're still living out of your parents' basement, holmes. Out.
Apology Accepted
Recent word came in at Yuppie Pricks H.Q. that this month's Blender Magazine - which features perrenial Sunset Stripper skanks The Pussycat Dolls on the cover - gives the Pricks their props with a picture of Balls along with the accompanying headline 'CD we didn't even crack open'.
No offense guys - but your journalistic 'integrity' makes Jason Blair and James Frey look like Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein.
Memo to Blender: "P.U.S.S.Why"?
But in all seriousness - kudos to Blender for at least manning-up and admitting they didn't open the CD. Unlike their recent gaff over at sister magazine, Maxim involving the Black Crowes, they at least owned up to the fact that they're either illiterate, lazy, or just plain retarded.
Maybe the Pussycat Dolls can show you how to operate a CD player next time, guys. 'Til then, apology accepted.
No offense guys - but your journalistic 'integrity' makes Jason Blair and James Frey look like Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein.
Memo to Blender: "P.U.S.S.Why"?
But in all seriousness - kudos to Blender for at least manning-up and admitting they didn't open the CD. Unlike their recent gaff over at sister magazine, Maxim involving the Black Crowes, they at least owned up to the fact that they're either illiterate, lazy, or just plain retarded.
Maybe the Pussycat Dolls can show you how to operate a CD player next time, guys. 'Til then, apology accepted.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Exiles On Wall Street
PartyEnds - Balls To The RNC
"In honor of the RNC ending last night, let’s listen to the Yuppie Pricks. Can someone please get these guys on The Colbert Report as the house band for a week?! Please? I think the heroes of America would really enjoy the astounding satire, and hell, even the huge crotch shot on the cover of their new album Balls.
If enough people buy this record, Sarah Palin will drop out of the vice presidential race and be replaced by Jeb Bush who will then take office after McCain dies giving the country another 4 years with a Bush in office. Nothing would make the Yuppie Pricks happier. Get your polo collars up, start buying low and selling high with these starter tracks. Once you are hooked, pick up Balls on Austin imprint Chicken Ranch Records."
Radio Exile - Yuppie Pricks Kick Ass
"I can’t be sure if I am supposed to take the following seriously, so I will put it out there for you all to decide instead. These guys rock pretty hard, so we wanted to posted the tasty tunes that accompanied what turned out to be the first ever “double you tee eff” moment this week!
Oh man, this is sorta sweet, but this is coming from the guy who thought Quit Your Dayjob were pretty rad. In hindsight, what I said there was right, however, I am prone to random moments of “badger the wife with silly song lyrics,” so this sort of works, you know?"
"In honor of the RNC ending last night, let’s listen to the Yuppie Pricks. Can someone please get these guys on The Colbert Report as the house band for a week?! Please? I think the heroes of America would really enjoy the astounding satire, and hell, even the huge crotch shot on the cover of their new album Balls.
If enough people buy this record, Sarah Palin will drop out of the vice presidential race and be replaced by Jeb Bush who will then take office after McCain dies giving the country another 4 years with a Bush in office. Nothing would make the Yuppie Pricks happier. Get your polo collars up, start buying low and selling high with these starter tracks. Once you are hooked, pick up Balls on Austin imprint Chicken Ranch Records."
Radio Exile - Yuppie Pricks Kick Ass
"I can’t be sure if I am supposed to take the following seriously, so I will put it out there for you all to decide instead. These guys rock pretty hard, so we wanted to posted the tasty tunes that accompanied what turned out to be the first ever “double you tee eff” moment this week!
Oh man, this is sorta sweet, but this is coming from the guy who thought Quit Your Dayjob were pretty rad. In hindsight, what I said there was right, however, I am prone to random moments of “badger the wife with silly song lyrics,” so this sort of works, you know?"
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Ooops, We Did It Again
The Devil Has The Best Tuna
"You may think that punk rock is the music of the poor, the music of the dispossessed angry at their exclusion from the fruits of rampant global capitalism. Well here are the superbly monickered Yuppie Pricks to negate everything you ever thought about punk.
They claim to have parents in the upper tax bracket, have songs called 'Greed Is Good', 'F**k You, I'm Rich' and 'Frat Cars' and the band allegedly includes a multimillionaire stockbroker who lists among his hobbies “hunting endangered species”, a pharmaceutical business magnate and a third-generation divorce lawyer. I'm not sure how much of this is real and how much is mere media myth making but they certainly make a punked up racket laced with enough humour to make a US customs officer laugh.
Their last album was released on Jello Biafra's Alternative Tentacles album and unsurprisingly they're a unique blend of The Dead Kennedys punk rock fury and Harry Enfield's satire on late 80's greedy young nouveau riche Loadsamoney.
Punk's not dead it's just been away misappropriating pension funds and now it's back to scare the butler."
"You may think that punk rock is the music of the poor, the music of the dispossessed angry at their exclusion from the fruits of rampant global capitalism. Well here are the superbly monickered Yuppie Pricks to negate everything you ever thought about punk.
They claim to have parents in the upper tax bracket, have songs called 'Greed Is Good', 'F**k You, I'm Rich' and 'Frat Cars' and the band allegedly includes a multimillionaire stockbroker who lists among his hobbies “hunting endangered species”, a pharmaceutical business magnate and a third-generation divorce lawyer. I'm not sure how much of this is real and how much is mere media myth making but they certainly make a punked up racket laced with enough humour to make a US customs officer laugh.
Their last album was released on Jello Biafra's Alternative Tentacles album and unsurprisingly they're a unique blend of The Dead Kennedys punk rock fury and Harry Enfield's satire on late 80's greedy young nouveau riche Loadsamoney.
Punk's not dead it's just been away misappropriating pension funds and now it's back to scare the butler."
Things We Like About McCain's VP Pick
We won't get into how we're voting in '08, other than to say the answer my friend, is 'blowing' on the hood of our Benz. Sniff, sniff.
But that said, McCain's latest 'stroke' of 'genius' in picking self-proclaimed 'hockey mom' and former beauty pagent runner-up, Sarah Palin does have a lot of potential upside. Don't strain yourself - we'll explain.
1) Pro-Rape Platform.
Palin supports banning all abortions - even in instances of rape and incest. Now maybe this isn't a problem in Alaska, where I'm sure there's fewer sexual predators on the loose than handicap-accessible toilets, but for us, we're just thrilled to see someone who finally recognizes that the spermatazoa of a soon-to-be-convicted felon ranks higher than the rights of the rape victim in the eyes of the law. And with no rape-related abortions, pretty soon we'll have a bunch of little inbred, rapist-offspring running around, leading to higher crime rates, and more Republican landslide victories in November! Brilliant.
2) Higher Teenage Pregnancy Rates.
Along with Palin's evangelical, pro-life, abstinence-oriented stance on reproductive issues, we can look forward to a lot more unwanted white babies being put up for adoption - and just in the nick of time. Let's face it - there's simply not enough to go around as it is, and with Brangelina and TomKat snapping up all the cute little third-world kiddies, something's got to give. It's simple supply and demand, holmes.
3) Northern Exposure.
Man, that TV show rocked. Maggie was hot. And this Palin chick was the mayor of a town just like the one in the show. TV, good. Change, bad.
4) Invading Canada.
Now that our VP-to-be's foreign policy credentials hinge on Alaska's precarious geo-political positioning between Russia and Canada, we can all look forward to finally KICKING A LITTLE CANADIAN ASS. My guess is a routine border crossing will go 'awry', thanks to the Mounties inability to correctly pronounce 'ou'. Hope you don't mind a little blood in your maple syrup, America - it could get messy up there once we start dropping bombs.
5) March of the Hill-o-crats.
Of course, we all know McCain's real goal in picking Palin as his VP - stealing votes from the Dems via the defection of disgruntled Hillary-supporters to the RNC. See, McCain figures they'll chase anything with a skirt - and he's right. Nothing like the dangling carrot of female empowerment to get the ol' nags moving your way.
You've come a long way, baby!
But that said, McCain's latest 'stroke' of 'genius' in picking self-proclaimed 'hockey mom' and former beauty pagent runner-up, Sarah Palin does have a lot of potential upside. Don't strain yourself - we'll explain.
1) Pro-Rape Platform.
Palin supports banning all abortions - even in instances of rape and incest. Now maybe this isn't a problem in Alaska, where I'm sure there's fewer sexual predators on the loose than handicap-accessible toilets, but for us, we're just thrilled to see someone who finally recognizes that the spermatazoa of a soon-to-be-convicted felon ranks higher than the rights of the rape victim in the eyes of the law. And with no rape-related abortions, pretty soon we'll have a bunch of little inbred, rapist-offspring running around, leading to higher crime rates, and more Republican landslide victories in November! Brilliant.
2) Higher Teenage Pregnancy Rates.
Along with Palin's evangelical, pro-life, abstinence-oriented stance on reproductive issues, we can look forward to a lot more unwanted white babies being put up for adoption - and just in the nick of time. Let's face it - there's simply not enough to go around as it is, and with Brangelina and TomKat snapping up all the cute little third-world kiddies, something's got to give. It's simple supply and demand, holmes.
3) Northern Exposure.
Man, that TV show rocked. Maggie was hot. And this Palin chick was the mayor of a town just like the one in the show. TV, good. Change, bad.
4) Invading Canada.
Now that our VP-to-be's foreign policy credentials hinge on Alaska's precarious geo-political positioning between Russia and Canada, we can all look forward to finally KICKING A LITTLE CANADIAN ASS. My guess is a routine border crossing will go 'awry', thanks to the Mounties inability to correctly pronounce 'ou'. Hope you don't mind a little blood in your maple syrup, America - it could get messy up there once we start dropping bombs.
5) March of the Hill-o-crats.
Of course, we all know McCain's real goal in picking Palin as his VP - stealing votes from the Dems via the defection of disgruntled Hillary-supporters to the RNC. See, McCain figures they'll chase anything with a skirt - and he's right. Nothing like the dangling carrot of female empowerment to get the ol' nags moving your way.
You've come a long way, baby!
Norway - 1, Denmark - 0
We don't like to take sides - but Norway kicks Denmark's ass.
First off, Norway is HUGE compared to Denmark. Grow a penninsula, Denmark.
Second, Norway has fjords - and fjords are cool. What's Denmark got? A friggin' pastry? What is this - Dunkin Donuts????
Third, the 'weige flag is red, white AND blue - not just red and white. Get with the program Denmark - you're not the Red Cross. Show a little pride.
Oh, and who can forget the Muhammad cartoon controversy? Thanks, Denmark. Warn us the next time you decide to put your 'Bad Idea' jeans on, and set off the worst international crisis in your history since WWII.
And did we metion Norway has the second highest per capital GDP in the world? Meanwhile, Denmark ranked as the second 'most peaceful' country after Iceland, according to the Global Peace Index. G.A.Y.
Oh yeah - and the Pricks are on Norway's state-sponsored NRK radio.
Props to us. Denmark, you just don't get it.
First off, Norway is HUGE compared to Denmark. Grow a penninsula, Denmark.
Second, Norway has fjords - and fjords are cool. What's Denmark got? A friggin' pastry? What is this - Dunkin Donuts????
Third, the 'weige flag is red, white AND blue - not just red and white. Get with the program Denmark - you're not the Red Cross. Show a little pride.
Oh, and who can forget the Muhammad cartoon controversy? Thanks, Denmark. Warn us the next time you decide to put your 'Bad Idea' jeans on, and set off the worst international crisis in your history since WWII.
And did we metion Norway has the second highest per capital GDP in the world? Meanwhile, Denmark ranked as the second 'most peaceful' country after Iceland, according to the Global Peace Index. G.A.Y.
Oh yeah - and the Pricks are on Norway's state-sponsored NRK radio.
Props to us. Denmark, you just don't get it.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Saving The Best For Last
Last Days of Man on Earth 2.0
"Yuppie Pricks - Balls (Chicken Ranch Records) 2008. It had to be more than just coincidence that caused the new album by Yuppie Pricks to arrive at the Last Days of Man on Earth World HQ. Had to be. I mean, I had just finished writing about the underlying conservatism of hardcore and I get this thing in the mail? An album with songs entitiled “G.O.P.” and “Fraternity Days”? With lyrics that explore the neverending joys of being rich, white, republican males from TexASS? HAD to be more than coincidence. Right?
Well, no. Ascribing anything more than coincidence to this would mean that I believe in fate and Stumble has no time for fatalism. The boys in Yuppie Pricks? They do. They believe they were fated to be the “haves” while you dear readers are “have-nots”. Like they say they are “model guys, fraternity links with national ties”. Who the fuck are you? Just some punk loser flipping burgers. This is not me talking. This is where Yuppie Pricks are coming from. Can you get next to that?
Sure the album is a novelty record in the same sense that a Gwar album is. Sure the novelty can wear thin at times. I mean, you’re gonna ask me to listen to a song with the title “G.O.P.” after eight fuckin’ years of GW Dipshit? When the mere mention of McCain and his traveling Hockey Mom sideshow is enough to throw me into homicidal paroxisms of rage and distemper? And the song is actually good enough that I find myself singing along and laughing at how offensively stupid the whole thing is? I find myself enjoying the whole album?
Well, that takes balls, mi amigo. Balls indeed."
"Yuppie Pricks - Balls (Chicken Ranch Records) 2008. It had to be more than just coincidence that caused the new album by Yuppie Pricks to arrive at the Last Days of Man on Earth World HQ. Had to be. I mean, I had just finished writing about the underlying conservatism of hardcore and I get this thing in the mail? An album with songs entitiled “G.O.P.” and “Fraternity Days”? With lyrics that explore the neverending joys of being rich, white, republican males from TexASS? HAD to be more than coincidence. Right?
Well, no. Ascribing anything more than coincidence to this would mean that I believe in fate and Stumble has no time for fatalism. The boys in Yuppie Pricks? They do. They believe they were fated to be the “haves” while you dear readers are “have-nots”. Like they say they are “model guys, fraternity links with national ties”. Who the fuck are you? Just some punk loser flipping burgers. This is not me talking. This is where Yuppie Pricks are coming from. Can you get next to that?
Sure the album is a novelty record in the same sense that a Gwar album is. Sure the novelty can wear thin at times. I mean, you’re gonna ask me to listen to a song with the title “G.O.P.” after eight fuckin’ years of GW Dipshit? When the mere mention of McCain and his traveling Hockey Mom sideshow is enough to throw me into homicidal paroxisms of rage and distemper? And the song is actually good enough that I find myself singing along and laughing at how offensively stupid the whole thing is? I find myself enjoying the whole album?
Well, that takes balls, mi amigo. Balls indeed."
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Bananarama
From our new best friends over at BANANASPAM:
The Yuppie Pricks give it the old college try!
"In my humble opinion the death of any music form is when it loses its sense of humor, and there are ample occurrences of this down through the rock n roll age. From progressive rock in the early ‘70s to jazzy house and trip hop in the late ‘90s the history of popular music is strewn with the detritus (god I love that word) jettisoned from opuses (did you know that another plural form of opus is opera, hmmm) of an earnest nature. So when I got an email from those highly attractive, driven, astonishingly good looking yet humble and kind folks at Fanatic Promotion (sycophantic moi?) about a band from Texas called The Yuppie Pricks I had to investigate.
Today I have their CD resting in my shweaty little mitt. It is touchingly (fnar fnar) called Balls and is ten tracks of break neck speed, melodic, driving and fun filled punk rock. The band comprised of pharmaceutical business magnate,Trevor Middleton (vocals), tgird generation divorce lawyer, Deuce Hollingsworth (guitar), Preston Hetherington (guitar), Ricky the Intern (bass) and Nigel Smythen-Wesson (drums) are based in Austin, Texas and are signed to the delightful Chicken Ranch Records label, which is also home to kick ass, Nashville, garage rockers The Clutters (check out their Don’t Believe A Word CD from last year).
Yuppie Pricks deal in reserve psychology punk by ironically celebrating the materialist excesses of the upwardly mobile in songs like “Greed Is Good,” “Fraternity Days,” and my personal favorite, “”Fuck You, I’m Rich,” which are tinged with old school UK punk, Black Flag and Dead Kennedys touches. And they get further love from me by covering a song by my one of my all time cherished bands, a tearing remake of “Male Model” by Derry’s finest, The Undertones, my local band when I was growing up and purveyors of top notch, total fun, pop punk. The choice of this tune by Yuppie Pricks is a testament to their fine choice in influences, which no doubt accompanies their fine choices in Brooks Brothers button down collar shirts and Bass Weejun loafers. This is punk rock with a message that you can laugh along to as well. Seems timely."
The Yuppie Pricks give it the old college try!
"In my humble opinion the death of any music form is when it loses its sense of humor, and there are ample occurrences of this down through the rock n roll age. From progressive rock in the early ‘70s to jazzy house and trip hop in the late ‘90s the history of popular music is strewn with the detritus (god I love that word) jettisoned from opuses (did you know that another plural form of opus is opera, hmmm) of an earnest nature. So when I got an email from those highly attractive, driven, astonishingly good looking yet humble and kind folks at Fanatic Promotion (sycophantic moi?) about a band from Texas called The Yuppie Pricks I had to investigate.
Today I have their CD resting in my shweaty little mitt. It is touchingly (fnar fnar) called Balls and is ten tracks of break neck speed, melodic, driving and fun filled punk rock. The band comprised of pharmaceutical business magnate,Trevor Middleton (vocals), tgird generation divorce lawyer, Deuce Hollingsworth (guitar), Preston Hetherington (guitar), Ricky the Intern (bass) and Nigel Smythen-Wesson (drums) are based in Austin, Texas and are signed to the delightful Chicken Ranch Records label, which is also home to kick ass, Nashville, garage rockers The Clutters (check out their Don’t Believe A Word CD from last year).
Yuppie Pricks deal in reserve psychology punk by ironically celebrating the materialist excesses of the upwardly mobile in songs like “Greed Is Good,” “Fraternity Days,” and my personal favorite, “”Fuck You, I’m Rich,” which are tinged with old school UK punk, Black Flag and Dead Kennedys touches. And they get further love from me by covering a song by my one of my all time cherished bands, a tearing remake of “Male Model” by Derry’s finest, The Undertones, my local band when I was growing up and purveyors of top notch, total fun, pop punk. The choice of this tune by Yuppie Pricks is a testament to their fine choice in influences, which no doubt accompanies their fine choices in Brooks Brothers button down collar shirts and Bass Weejun loafers. This is punk rock with a message that you can laugh along to as well. Seems timely."
Welcome to the Cultcha Club
Another stellar review, courtesy of Subba-Cultcha:
Yuppie Pricks - Balls: A lively enough flurry of punk rock cooked in America’s traditional sauces
"According to their press release The Yuppie Pricks are ‘reminiscent of bands such as The Sex Pistols, Black Flag and The Dead Kennedys’. Rather an ambitious announcement to make I think. I failed to uncover the slightest trace of Sex Pistols similarities. I shall allow them the Dead Kennedys one but based more on the Jello Biafra vocal delivery rather than any real musical likeness. And Black Flag are such a parcel of everything that I’m sure there may exist bits of that in their somewhere too. Regardless though of what’s there and what’s not The Yuppie Pricks are quite a good band and this is a rather decent album.
The opening track ‘Collars Up’ is the one that contains the vocal likeness of Jello Biafra. The song itself is a very rapid, short lived attack lasting all of 59 seconds but it does a good job as opener with the speed being beneficial to its purpose, almost like a very quick and simple introduction to the band that doesn’t need to be fussed over. ‘Greed Is Good’ is noticeably slower but the momentum remains steadfast enough ensuring a smooth hand over to the meaty intro of ‘Donkey Show’. ‘Frat Cars’ is a twitching volley and my favourite song on the album. It ups the pace noticeably and opens up the whole record brilliantly. Following on is ‘Fraternity Days’ and ‘Fuck You, I’m Rich’ There isn’t any obvious weaknesses anywhere and the catchy ‘Male Model’ followed by ‘G.O.P’ then ‘Loser’ was a great way to spend 6 minutes. Final track ‘Prick 4 Life’ is an inspired closer to a record that rarely drops a stitch from start to finish."
Yuppie Pricks - Balls: A lively enough flurry of punk rock cooked in America’s traditional sauces
"According to their press release The Yuppie Pricks are ‘reminiscent of bands such as The Sex Pistols, Black Flag and The Dead Kennedys’. Rather an ambitious announcement to make I think. I failed to uncover the slightest trace of Sex Pistols similarities. I shall allow them the Dead Kennedys one but based more on the Jello Biafra vocal delivery rather than any real musical likeness. And Black Flag are such a parcel of everything that I’m sure there may exist bits of that in their somewhere too. Regardless though of what’s there and what’s not The Yuppie Pricks are quite a good band and this is a rather decent album.
The opening track ‘Collars Up’ is the one that contains the vocal likeness of Jello Biafra. The song itself is a very rapid, short lived attack lasting all of 59 seconds but it does a good job as opener with the speed being beneficial to its purpose, almost like a very quick and simple introduction to the band that doesn’t need to be fussed over. ‘Greed Is Good’ is noticeably slower but the momentum remains steadfast enough ensuring a smooth hand over to the meaty intro of ‘Donkey Show’. ‘Frat Cars’ is a twitching volley and my favourite song on the album. It ups the pace noticeably and opens up the whole record brilliantly. Following on is ‘Fraternity Days’ and ‘Fuck You, I’m Rich’ There isn’t any obvious weaknesses anywhere and the catchy ‘Male Model’ followed by ‘G.O.P’ then ‘Loser’ was a great way to spend 6 minutes. Final track ‘Prick 4 Life’ is an inspired closer to a record that rarely drops a stitch from start to finish."
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Sometimes We Impress Even Ourselves
Here Comes The Flood: "Balls is album to be played at top volume to scare the shit out of the dorks down the hall. Housed in a sleeve that is a belated answer to the Black Crowes' Amorica it deserves top billing on this year's list of best punk albums. Punk is not dead, it just changed its wardrobe."
Left Hip Magazine: "A bizarre 180˚ spin on classic punk rock values, the Yuppie Pricks apparently are very rich – one member alone is worth 30 million dollars courtesy of the pharmaceutical industry. Within the confines of a cookie-cutter classic punk/hardcore sound they sing about being rich and all the trappings that lie therein. With snide songs like “Greed Is Good”, “Fraternity Days” and “Fuck You, I'm Rich” the band ostensibly aims to wrong all that is right with the world in typical Republican fashion. There is something highly amusing going on here, perhaps a bit of Brechtian alienation effect. My suggestion is that you steal this record. Do we really want to put any more money in these bastards pockets?"
Hard Rock Chick, Myspace Find: "Yes, it’s crass, but that’s what punk is supposed to be, it’s the Yuppie Pricks. It starts with the album cover, a banana hammock of patriotic proportions, to the album name: ‘Balls’, to the song titles- 'Fuck You I’m Rich'. This is exactly the kind of bizarro concoction of a band that I miss from Austin."
Riverfront Times, MP3 Monday: "Delightfully rude, snotty, loud, fast punk rock. RIYL Riverboat Gamblers and its ilk."
Parasites and Sychophants: "If nothing else, Yuppie Pricks new album Balls, merits some attention for having such an odd approach of embracing decadence, selling out, and whatever else is supposedly banned by the consciousness police.
The music blasts out like some forgotten eighties west coast punk, capped off by a nasally snarl somewhere in line with Jello Biafra, who once courted the band. No doubt, one should also expect a little laughter while listening to talk of frat boys doing their brothers over the fence, Al Gore inventing the internet before he became a climatologist, portfolio scores, and the GOP.
Fun times to enjoy and call home, while pondering how full of shit most of us are anyway with our highfalutin ideas."
Left Hip Magazine: "A bizarre 180˚ spin on classic punk rock values, the Yuppie Pricks apparently are very rich – one member alone is worth 30 million dollars courtesy of the pharmaceutical industry. Within the confines of a cookie-cutter classic punk/hardcore sound they sing about being rich and all the trappings that lie therein. With snide songs like “Greed Is Good”, “Fraternity Days” and “Fuck You, I'm Rich” the band ostensibly aims to wrong all that is right with the world in typical Republican fashion. There is something highly amusing going on here, perhaps a bit of Brechtian alienation effect. My suggestion is that you steal this record. Do we really want to put any more money in these bastards pockets?"
Hard Rock Chick, Myspace Find: "Yes, it’s crass, but that’s what punk is supposed to be, it’s the Yuppie Pricks. It starts with the album cover, a banana hammock of patriotic proportions, to the album name: ‘Balls’, to the song titles- 'Fuck You I’m Rich'. This is exactly the kind of bizarro concoction of a band that I miss from Austin."
Riverfront Times, MP3 Monday: "Delightfully rude, snotty, loud, fast punk rock. RIYL Riverboat Gamblers and its ilk."
Parasites and Sychophants: "If nothing else, Yuppie Pricks new album Balls, merits some attention for having such an odd approach of embracing decadence, selling out, and whatever else is supposedly banned by the consciousness police.
The music blasts out like some forgotten eighties west coast punk, capped off by a nasally snarl somewhere in line with Jello Biafra, who once courted the band. No doubt, one should also expect a little laughter while listening to talk of frat boys doing their brothers over the fence, Al Gore inventing the internet before he became a climatologist, portfolio scores, and the GOP.
Fun times to enjoy and call home, while pondering how full of shit most of us are anyway with our highfalutin ideas."
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Hueylicious
One of our interns recently hand-delivered this masterpiece of modern art from our CD release show last month. Best part is, Huey's hair - underarms included - are made of purple velvet. Just like we imagined in real life.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Wisdom From The Trev
"Talking's for board rooms. Fucking's for sorority girls."
For more nuggets of truth from the Trev, or to check out our latest online stalker, visit our profile on myspace.
For more nuggets of truth from the Trev, or to check out our latest online stalker, visit our profile on myspace.
Friday, August 15, 2008
For Us, It's Always 'A Good Year'
Ever wonder what it's like to be rich, good-looking and just not give a sh*t? Of course - who doesn't. But how can mere words illustrate the wonderousness that it is being US? Well, we feel your pain poor persons - so that's why we've made A Good Year, starring Russell Crowe and Albert Finney, recommended viewing for all students of the YP lifestyle.
Don't confuse this movie with the typical rom-com fare your girlfriend fills your Netflix queue with when you're not looking - this one is strictly for the lads.
First off, there's more tasty tail per frame in this flick than a Pussycat Dolls ob/gyn exam film. If they packed anymore beaver on this set, they'd have to call in animal control.
Second, it stars Russell Crowe - who may not be able to sing for sh*t, but who knows how to keep the hired help in place with a well-thrown phone receiver. RESPECT.
Third, it's directed by Ridley Scott - who we all know kicks TOTAL ASS from such classics as The Duellists, Alien, Blade Runner, Gladiator, Black Hawk Down and... Thelma and Louise?!?? Ok, whatever - we'll let that one go.
And last - but certainly not least - it's all about money. Sure, it's also about screwing your rivals, nailing the hot chick in the office, and swilling crappy french wine - but that said, it's mostly about the money.
A Good Year - a movie that will make you cry like a little bitch when you see how awesome our life is compared to yours. Classic.
Who Are We To Argue?
Yuppie Pricks - They are so fucking better than us
"What’s more infuriating: tales of woebegotten hard-working middle class people who get screwed over by big business and the government, or images of people flaunting their lavish, high-rolling, decadent lifestyle in perfect knowledge that most of us will never be able to afford it? What gets you riled up more: news pieces on human indignities, or the drunken antics of the latest starlet on TMZ?
Fact is, we’re more involved with the rich and powerful and their dealings and doings than we are with actual, tangible events happening to everyday, normal people. Tales of human suffering seem to get lost in the shuffle of Sean Penn selling his home and Mini-Me having sex. And that’s exactly where the Yuppie Pricks become more punk than punk.
If punk music was the ultimate tool of musical subversion, it’s hard to imagine being more inflammatory than a group of musicians clothed in pristine power suits with lit Cubans tucked between their teeth, powering through the most searing and ferocious guitar chords this side of a Black Flag concert, cufflinks glistening along in the light. With champagne towers and naked sushi girls accessorizing their exaltation of capitalism, the NRA, and the bombing of Arab countries, Yuppie Pricks may actually the perfect combination of tongue-in-cheek and in-your-face to forecefully slap us back down to earth for a much needed reality re-evaluation."
"What’s more infuriating: tales of woebegotten hard-working middle class people who get screwed over by big business and the government, or images of people flaunting their lavish, high-rolling, decadent lifestyle in perfect knowledge that most of us will never be able to afford it? What gets you riled up more: news pieces on human indignities, or the drunken antics of the latest starlet on TMZ?
Fact is, we’re more involved with the rich and powerful and their dealings and doings than we are with actual, tangible events happening to everyday, normal people. Tales of human suffering seem to get lost in the shuffle of Sean Penn selling his home and Mini-Me having sex. And that’s exactly where the Yuppie Pricks become more punk than punk.
If punk music was the ultimate tool of musical subversion, it’s hard to imagine being more inflammatory than a group of musicians clothed in pristine power suits with lit Cubans tucked between their teeth, powering through the most searing and ferocious guitar chords this side of a Black Flag concert, cufflinks glistening along in the light. With champagne towers and naked sushi girls accessorizing their exaltation of capitalism, the NRA, and the bombing of Arab countries, Yuppie Pricks may actually the perfect combination of tongue-in-cheek and in-your-face to forecefully slap us back down to earth for a much needed reality re-evaluation."
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Even Better Than The Real Thing
Sometimes you gotta' break a few eggs, to make an omlette.
Take for instance this douche's commentary on Collars Up:
"Yuppie Pricks - 'Collars Up'; The press release for this band kind of sickened me and may be skewing my views on the music a bit, but I really don't think it matters all that much. This band is made up of a couple of millionaires who wanted to create punk music for their capitalist brethren. As if that contradiction in terms weren't enough they flat out copy the millions of punk bands that toured around in stinky vans bringing music to the kids that weren't well off enough to escape the middle or lower classes. It's absolutely revolting to me that something like this could be considered punk just because of it's short, hard driven sound, especially when you consider all the bands that they are ripping off in doing so. This shit sucks. Grade: F"
Ok - we get it. You're 'sickened' and 'revolted' that we play punk rock better than the so-called 'original' bands (Blink 182, anyone?), we get paid for what we do, and we don't stink.
Sounds like it's YP - 1, You - 0.
Take for instance this douche's commentary on Collars Up:
"Yuppie Pricks - 'Collars Up'; The press release for this band kind of sickened me and may be skewing my views on the music a bit, but I really don't think it matters all that much. This band is made up of a couple of millionaires who wanted to create punk music for their capitalist brethren. As if that contradiction in terms weren't enough they flat out copy the millions of punk bands that toured around in stinky vans bringing music to the kids that weren't well off enough to escape the middle or lower classes. It's absolutely revolting to me that something like this could be considered punk just because of it's short, hard driven sound, especially when you consider all the bands that they are ripping off in doing so. This shit sucks. Grade: F"
Ok - we get it. You're 'sickened' and 'revolted' that we play punk rock better than the so-called 'original' bands (Blink 182, anyone?), we get paid for what we do, and we don't stink.
Sounds like it's YP - 1, You - 0.
Hip to be Punk
These guys love us because we pay them to:
Yuppie Pricks prove you don't have to be poor to be punk...
Yuppie Pricks prove you don't have to be poor to be punk...
a review even e e cummings would approve of
this one comes to us from there’s nothing funnier than pride in an utterly confident stride:
"one can safely assume that with song titles like “fuck you, i’m rich,” “donkey show” and “fraternity days” that the yuppie pricks have a certain social class and their much maligned lifestyle directly in their crosshairs. clocking in at a whopping minute and a few seconds, “collars up” is as punk as it comes and in the classic sense, and not in the recent crop of mtv styled pussies sense. their new record balls is out now"
- Gregor
"one can safely assume that with song titles like “fuck you, i’m rich,” “donkey show” and “fraternity days” that the yuppie pricks have a certain social class and their much maligned lifestyle directly in their crosshairs. clocking in at a whopping minute and a few seconds, “collars up” is as punk as it comes and in the classic sense, and not in the recent crop of mtv styled pussies sense. their new record balls is out now"
- Gregor
Aversion Therapy
From the latest Aversion.com:
Balls
The Yuppie Pricks
Chicken Ranch Records
"Punk rock -- or a casual approximation of it -- turned up in a lot of weird places lately: Blaring in the background of luxury car commercials, pumping from SUVs driven by snotty rich kids, auto-loading on the MySpace page of every sniveling, future Republican scenester in America. Yeah, it's really disconcerting, isn't it?
The Yuppie Pricks are here to take punk rock back for the punks. Launching an over-the-top offensive at everything that was, long ago, anathema to the punk spirit -- rich guys, Republicans, fashionistas, frat boys -- Balls aims to burn every bridge punk's built with the mainstream over the past two decades. If it doesn't immediately sound like a wonderful idea, you probably have no business buying punk records in the first place. Try moving on to Coldplay.
As divisive as possible, The Yuppie Pricks make that abrasive, snotty and defiant punk album that's been on the endangered species list for eight or nine years. Guitars sound like they're being crushed by falling cinder blocks as much as they're being played, the rhythm section is an earthquake in a scrap yard and singer Trevor Middleton learned his trade by singing along to Dead Kennedys albums. It's the sort of album you can play for your own enjoyment, or play at your stuffy neighbors, coworkers or sister for your own amusement.
The Yuppie Pricks hate all the right things, and use their amalgam of '80s California punk, hardcore and metal as a vehicle for that hate. "Collars Up" blasts the popped-collar status symbol that's swept the nation again, "Fraternity Days" takes an easy pot-shot at the Greek sector of campus, "Fuck You, I'm Rich" spares no words satirizing upper-class values. "G.O.P." retools Buzzcocks' classic "ESP," to piss off the red states. In the spirit of bipartisanship, "Donkey Show" swoops in to disgust the Democrats. The pro-suicide "Loser" is there just to piss off anyone The Yuppie Pricks might have overlooked.
It's all done with a snide smile -- there's as much Guttermouth and Vandals in Balls as there are Dead Kennedys and Crass -- so the Pricks are flicking authority's nose rather than aiming a gun at it in the name of the proletariat. Smile all you want, though: Balls is the sort of album punk's needed for a while -- let's pray it finds its way into the ears of the pop-punk scene."
- Matt Schild
Balls
The Yuppie Pricks
Chicken Ranch Records
"Punk rock -- or a casual approximation of it -- turned up in a lot of weird places lately: Blaring in the background of luxury car commercials, pumping from SUVs driven by snotty rich kids, auto-loading on the MySpace page of every sniveling, future Republican scenester in America. Yeah, it's really disconcerting, isn't it?
The Yuppie Pricks are here to take punk rock back for the punks. Launching an over-the-top offensive at everything that was, long ago, anathema to the punk spirit -- rich guys, Republicans, fashionistas, frat boys -- Balls aims to burn every bridge punk's built with the mainstream over the past two decades. If it doesn't immediately sound like a wonderful idea, you probably have no business buying punk records in the first place. Try moving on to Coldplay.
As divisive as possible, The Yuppie Pricks make that abrasive, snotty and defiant punk album that's been on the endangered species list for eight or nine years. Guitars sound like they're being crushed by falling cinder blocks as much as they're being played, the rhythm section is an earthquake in a scrap yard and singer Trevor Middleton learned his trade by singing along to Dead Kennedys albums. It's the sort of album you can play for your own enjoyment, or play at your stuffy neighbors, coworkers or sister for your own amusement.
The Yuppie Pricks hate all the right things, and use their amalgam of '80s California punk, hardcore and metal as a vehicle for that hate. "Collars Up" blasts the popped-collar status symbol that's swept the nation again, "Fraternity Days" takes an easy pot-shot at the Greek sector of campus, "Fuck You, I'm Rich" spares no words satirizing upper-class values. "G.O.P." retools Buzzcocks' classic "ESP," to piss off the red states. In the spirit of bipartisanship, "Donkey Show" swoops in to disgust the Democrats. The pro-suicide "Loser" is there just to piss off anyone The Yuppie Pricks might have overlooked.
It's all done with a snide smile -- there's as much Guttermouth and Vandals in Balls as there are Dead Kennedys and Crass -- so the Pricks are flicking authority's nose rather than aiming a gun at it in the name of the proletariat. Smile all you want, though: Balls is the sort of album punk's needed for a while -- let's pray it finds its way into the ears of the pop-punk scene."
- Matt Schild
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Kill Switch, Engage
Fresh off the presses from Yahoo! News, courtesy of newsfactor.com:
"Jobs' statement reveals Apple hasn't used the kill switch yet, but the company did remove an application from the App Store last week.
Apple removed the $999 "I Am Rich" application, which had the sole purpose of showing people the owner has money. The program creates a red icon that sits on the iPhone deck with a the words "I Am Rich" underneath. After the user activates the application, it glows on the handset like a ruby.
Apple initially approved the application, which bumps up against the pricing limit for applications sold on its App Store. The company was not immediately available for comment on why it decided to pull the plug."
Awesome.
"Jobs' statement reveals Apple hasn't used the kill switch yet, but the company did remove an application from the App Store last week.
Apple removed the $999 "I Am Rich" application, which had the sole purpose of showing people the owner has money. The program creates a red icon that sits on the iPhone deck with a the words "I Am Rich" underneath. After the user activates the application, it glows on the handset like a ruby.
Apple initially approved the application, which bumps up against the pricing limit for applications sold on its App Store. The company was not immediately available for comment on why it decided to pull the plug."
Awesome.
Parade of Pricks
From the latest Parade of Flesh:
"YUPPIE PRICKS – balls. (chicken ranch) – Balls. is an aggressive and humorous punk album that clocks-in right at 22 minutes. There is so many songs involving Donkeys and Juggs that one can listen to in a sitting and they knew just when to cut it off. I can see people at Bar of Soap enjoying this band live. "
"YUPPIE PRICKS – balls. (chicken ranch) – Balls. is an aggressive and humorous punk album that clocks-in right at 22 minutes. There is so many songs involving Donkeys and Juggs that one can listen to in a sitting and they knew just when to cut it off. I can see people at Bar of Soap enjoying this band live. "
Monday, August 11, 2008
Hi there, Country Music - Why So Gay?
Don't get us wrong - we love the gays. Not literally of course - but if Johnny McGovern made his own mayonnaise, we'd probably still buy it. Gay culture is everywhere - so why not gay it up with the gastronomy while you're it? Plus, the girls need something to rub on each other to soothe that third-degree deck-burn after spending all day out on our yacht - and they're for damn sure not using our Black Sea caviar. We may be rich - but we don't waste grade-A fish eggs on grade-B burnt beaver. But nothing's quite as fascinating as the homo-erotic undercurrent that seems to run through virtually everything that comes out of Nashville these days.
Take for example Garth Brooks - before he took to looking like Kevin Costner on donuts, he wasn't a bad-looking guy, in a 'Midnight Cowboy' sort of male-hustler way. Perhaps you've heard the Pansy Divison song, 'Cowboys Are Secretly Frequently Fond of Each Other'? Yeah, our point exactly.
Then there's the strange case of Keith Urban. On the one hand, he has all the hallmarks of the traditional alt-rock douche - bacon-strip facial hair motif, Hollywood actress wife, stint in rehab... but a country music sensation from the land of Crocodile Dundee? Clearly, something doesn't add up here. You do the math: Keith Urban + (Nicole Kidman - Tom Cruise) = one serious country and western closet-case.
But perhaps the biggest display of country's La Cage aux Folles tendencies comes to us in the form of the televised talent-show abortion, Nashville Star. Never has a bigger or better collection of downhome amateur drag kings and queens pranced about the stage under the guise of all-American 'straight' culture. Pure flaming, over-the-top genius.
That said, our all-time favorite farm-hand-turned-dandy fop still has to be the one, the only - Toby Keith. From his ridiculously butch public persona, to his verbal bitch-slapping of those grammy-winning trannys in the Dixie Chicks, TK is either so patriotic he pisses red, white and blue - or he's over-compensating for some not-so latent likes and dislikes. By which we mean, he likes other dude's junk in his trunk. Nice leather wristband, bro.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Run, Don't Walk
From the latest Run-off Groove"Open up the Sunday newspaper and you might believe that Avril Lavigne is actually a punk princess. Even she knows she isn't, so fuck her and the doughnut box she brought in. If you want some decent punk rock, seek out Balls (Chicken Ranch), the new album by a band who are proud to be named Yuppie Pricks.
The group take a bit of the Dead Kennedy's prowess with slivers of The Dehumanizers to offer a ruthless collection of I-don't-really-give-a-fuck songs. On the surface, it seems that while a lot of bands are trying to take the best of what the 80's may have offered, Yuppie Pricks poke fun at the excess of the decade and go back and discover why punk bands were doing the kind of music they were doing in the first place.
Some punk purists may not like their melodic sense, because "Fraternity Days" could easily become an anthem in the next Seth Rogen movie, but even Rogen would probably want to salute songs like "Fuck You, I'm Rich", "Donkey SHow", and "PRICK4LIFE". The band hold up and deliver those riffs with strength, and they do it while not taking themselves too seriously. Makes one wish Avril Lavigne was this good. Then again on second thought... "
(Balls is available directly from Chicken Ranch Records.)
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Get Some
From this week's Austin Chronicle:
Yuppie Pricks - Balls.
(Chicken Ranch)
"Over their six years together, Austin's Yuppie Pricks' role-playing punk schtick has depreciated somewhat, their eponymous stereotype now supplanted by the hipster douche bag as pop-cultural whipping boy de rigueur. Fortunately, the Pricks compensate for their decreasing timeliness by being a better band. Balls. is tighter and beefier than 2004's Brokers Banquet, and in a daring test of the old saw that risk is necessary to good satire, vocalist Trevor Middleton continues to proudly flip the bird at irreverence as he leaves it in the dust of plain obscenity. The Pricks hedge (har!) their bets with gloriously ripping performances of songs by the Undertones, the Chumps, and Big Boys – charitably overlooking the anti-yuppie message of "Frat Cars" – and do the music world a final service by festooning their disc with a hairy man's flag-clad nether regions. Now nobody else needs to do that."
Damn straight. Congratulations to us.
Yuppie Pricks - Balls.
(Chicken Ranch)
"Over their six years together, Austin's Yuppie Pricks' role-playing punk schtick has depreciated somewhat, their eponymous stereotype now supplanted by the hipster douche bag as pop-cultural whipping boy de rigueur. Fortunately, the Pricks compensate for their decreasing timeliness by being a better band. Balls. is tighter and beefier than 2004's Brokers Banquet, and in a daring test of the old saw that risk is necessary to good satire, vocalist Trevor Middleton continues to proudly flip the bird at irreverence as he leaves it in the dust of plain obscenity. The Pricks hedge (har!) their bets with gloriously ripping performances of songs by the Undertones, the Chumps, and Big Boys – charitably overlooking the anti-yuppie message of "Frat Cars" – and do the music world a final service by festooning their disc with a hairy man's flag-clad nether regions. Now nobody else needs to do that."
Damn straight. Congratulations to us.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
New Skool Kings, Old School Losers
Guttermouth - intriguing band, one would suppose. They were fired - or quit, depending on who you ask - for confusing the pre-teen mall-rats on the 2004 Warped Tour with pro-Bush propaganda, while making bands like Yellowcard and My Chemical Romance cry. Ok by us. So we invited them back to our air-conditioned downtown loft to kick it YP style before the gig. But they preferred to squat in the windowless concrete and cinder-block bunker passing itself off as a 'green room' inside the club instead, basking in the Hitler's-last-days ambience. How unfortunate. For them. No skin off our perfectly exfoliated nose though. Pass the scotch, please.
Joining Guttermouth on this tour was some band from the 'O.C.' called 'New Skool Kings', or 'NSK' for short, who apparently don't spell so good, hence the abundant use of abbreviations. Their myspace blog is pretty awesome too - they say 'sick' and 'bad-ass' a lot. But best part of NSK was the customized, all-white, tricked-out tour bus parked in front of the shithole of a venue. Hilarious. And the best part of THAT was watching them burn through more money in fuel costs just idling in front of the club, than the band took in all night at the door. Now that's a business plan we can get behind. Maybe they'll let them wash their old tour bus to work off their road debt when they get back to Cali. That would be awesome. For them.
But gigs like this are really all about serving the community. And by that, we mean knocking a few more hours off our court-ordered community service. Ah, the things we do for drugs. While the majority of the audience stood back in awe and amazement as we performed note-perfect renditions of all our hits blindfolded, with both hands tied behind our back, the few real punks in the audience skanked it up in front of the stage. Once again, the cream rises to the top. Just like us.
You're welcome, Austin.
Joining Guttermouth on this tour was some band from the 'O.C.' called 'New Skool Kings', or 'NSK' for short, who apparently don't spell so good, hence the abundant use of abbreviations. Their myspace blog is pretty awesome too - they say 'sick' and 'bad-ass' a lot. But best part of NSK was the customized, all-white, tricked-out tour bus parked in front of the shithole of a venue. Hilarious. And the best part of THAT was watching them burn through more money in fuel costs just idling in front of the club, than the band took in all night at the door. Now that's a business plan we can get behind. Maybe they'll let them wash their old tour bus to work off their road debt when they get back to Cali. That would be awesome. For them.But gigs like this are really all about serving the community. And by that, we mean knocking a few more hours off our court-ordered community service. Ah, the things we do for drugs. While the majority of the audience stood back in awe and amazement as we performed note-perfect renditions of all our hits blindfolded, with both hands tied behind our back, the few real punks in the audience skanked it up in front of the stage. Once again, the cream rises to the top. Just like us.
You're welcome, Austin.
Friday, August 1, 2008
We Rule, Again
This comes to us courtesy of our (now) good friends at PartyEnds.com:
"I go on and on about my favorite Austin bands here on the site but there is one that I just realized that I have never proclaimed my long time admiration for –Yuppie Pricks. Seeing them at Red 7 Wednesday night open for Guttermouth was as fun as ever. They still have the shtick down pact.
I have seen the Pricks play in tennis gear, golf gear, tropical gear, Italian suits, on segways, and on and on....so I am familiar with the antics and the masterful execution of each yuppie theme, but the Red 7 show they performed in front of a giant “mission accomplished” banner. It was brilliant. The brilliance was only built upon by their custom-made flight jump suits (like they were on that fateful ship with GW- get it?).
Further more, the American flag thong that frontman Trevor Middleton rocked the later half of the set made all of the audience’s ladies dump their loser boyfriends, rent American Psycho and find a CEO with a Jacuzzi in the back seat of his stretch hummer to teach them about stock options. Yuppie Pricks are the Stephen T. Colbert of punk rock, and if you don’t agree the terrorists have won.
The new Yuppie Pricks album is called Balls and the cover provides a pretty good visual of what goes on when the silly costume comes off at a YP show."
American Psycho Hose Beast
"I go on and on about my favorite Austin bands here on the site but there is one that I just realized that I have never proclaimed my long time admiration for –Yuppie Pricks. Seeing them at Red 7 Wednesday night open for Guttermouth was as fun as ever. They still have the shtick down pact.
I have seen the Pricks play in tennis gear, golf gear, tropical gear, Italian suits, on segways, and on and on....so I am familiar with the antics and the masterful execution of each yuppie theme, but the Red 7 show they performed in front of a giant “mission accomplished” banner. It was brilliant. The brilliance was only built upon by their custom-made flight jump suits (like they were on that fateful ship with GW- get it?).
Further more, the American flag thong that frontman Trevor Middleton rocked the later half of the set made all of the audience’s ladies dump their loser boyfriends, rent American Psycho and find a CEO with a Jacuzzi in the back seat of his stretch hummer to teach them about stock options. Yuppie Pricks are the Stephen T. Colbert of punk rock, and if you don’t agree the terrorists have won.
The new Yuppie Pricks album is called Balls and the cover provides a pretty good visual of what goes on when the silly costume comes off at a YP show."
American Psycho Hose Beast
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Our Balls, Your Face
We arrived early so we could oversee the pre-show preparations by our staff of dedicated interns. Actually, they aren't that dedicated - so of course, they need us there to order them around. Friggin' plebes. One thing you should know about the Pricks - if nothing else, we provide much-needed discipline and direction for today's youth.
While the pledges put in their sweat equity, we reminisced about Deuce and Trev's triumphant visit to the 101X morning show earlier that day. It appears our FCC lobby connections finally paid off, as Deuce waxed poetic to a FM drive-time audience about being 'mobbed by gash' and his patented techniques for avoiding STD's. Classy.
We also discovered that the 101X Sorority Intern didn't know the meaning of the word 'agnostic' - more proof that American public schools are GETTING THE JOB DONE.
Never were we prouder to be U.S. Americans, therefore, such as.
Unfortunately, security concerns kept us from putting on - or pulling off, as the case may be - the listener bikini contest. Apparently station management got wind of the whole deal, and realizing that Austin is the capital of hairy armpits and unshaved snizz, decided they were facing a potential biological hazard that no amount of bleach, lysol or oxy-clean could contain. Wisely, they called off our impromptu g-string jihad, leaving throngs of thong-wearing skanks to mill about the parking lot, looking for delivery drivers to blow for gas money. You can thank us later, UPS man.
But for us, there's always an upside - we got to keep the prize intended for the winner of the bikini contest: a chaffeured ride on an air-conditioned party bus for us and a dozen of our friends. Us - 1, You - 0. Booyah.
After retiring back to Mike D's palatial estate for cocktails, we got spruced up and waited on the bus. Upon arrival, we quickly realize that the inside of said party bus looks like someone took the contents of a Spencer's Gifts circa 1977, dumped it into a blender, set it to liquify, and then used the whole nauseating concoction to spray-paint the interior of an old Bluebird school bus. Appalling.
We quickly broke into the 1.75 L bottle of Maker's we brought along for the ride, as we were subjected to wretched karaoke versions of Top 40 hits via the bus' built-in sound system. Apparently, Shakira's 'hips' don't 'lie', which we had to be reminded of repeatedly, as no one could figure out how to delete that Brazilian bitch out of the rotation. Finally, someone set this god-forsaken time-machine to 1985, and the Trev serenaded us with his version Robert Palmer's 'Addicted to Love'.
Eventually we arrived at the club, just in time to catch the last few songs of Candi and the Cavities - and we were immediately disappointed we didn't get to see more of them. Comprised of Slum City alums, Candi and Suzanne - along with Toby Motard on bass and Aaron from the Chumps on drums - these disco-punks worked their Kraftwerk-meets-Gang of Four magic, as seen in a number of live videos on youtube. Neat stuff.
Next up were The New Drugs - an all-star Huey Lewis cover band, made up of members of Oh, Beast!, Awesome Cool Dudes, and fronted by ex-Cheezus/Noodle/Peenbeets/Summer Breeze/Ron Titter Band vocalist, Greg Beets, as seen here.
How can one describe a band that tenderizes the 80's power-rock of one of the greatest bands of all time with a Casio-powered meat-mallet? Simply awesome. If you don't like this band, then you don't like music. Highlights included renditions of such hits as 'Heart and Soul', 'I Want a New Drug', 'Hip To Be Square', 'Power of Love', and of course 'The Heart of Rock and Roll'. Phenomenal.
Finally, we took the stage, and regalled the crowd with a stellar set of yacht punk, as always. If you don't know what we sound like, then check out our myspace page. It's pretty self-explanatory. Or check out Nash Cook's photos documenting our performance.
If we sounded half as good as we looked, then we must've been freakin' awesome.
Also, we have to give mad props to Prince Klassen, who kept the dance-floor bumping' all night long with a great mix of yacht-rock classics and SMOOTH music. He truly was 'Klassen' up the joint. Out.
While the pledges put in their sweat equity, we reminisced about Deuce and Trev's triumphant visit to the 101X morning show earlier that day. It appears our FCC lobby connections finally paid off, as Deuce waxed poetic to a FM drive-time audience about being 'mobbed by gash' and his patented techniques for avoiding STD's. Classy.We also discovered that the 101X Sorority Intern didn't know the meaning of the word 'agnostic' - more proof that American public schools are GETTING THE JOB DONE.
Never were we prouder to be U.S. Americans, therefore, such as.
Unfortunately, security concerns kept us from putting on - or pulling off, as the case may be - the listener bikini contest. Apparently station management got wind of the whole deal, and realizing that Austin is the capital of hairy armpits and unshaved snizz, decided they were facing a potential biological hazard that no amount of bleach, lysol or oxy-clean could contain. Wisely, they called off our impromptu g-string jihad, leaving throngs of thong-wearing skanks to mill about the parking lot, looking for delivery drivers to blow for gas money. You can thank us later, UPS man.
But for us, there's always an upside - we got to keep the prize intended for the winner of the bikini contest: a chaffeured ride on an air-conditioned party bus for us and a dozen of our friends. Us - 1, You - 0. Booyah.
After retiring back to Mike D's palatial estate for cocktails, we got spruced up and waited on the bus. Upon arrival, we quickly realize that the inside of said party bus looks like someone took the contents of a Spencer's Gifts circa 1977, dumped it into a blender, set it to liquify, and then used the whole nauseating concoction to spray-paint the interior of an old Bluebird school bus. Appalling.
We quickly broke into the 1.75 L bottle of Maker's we brought along for the ride, as we were subjected to wretched karaoke versions of Top 40 hits via the bus' built-in sound system. Apparently, Shakira's 'hips' don't 'lie', which we had to be reminded of repeatedly, as no one could figure out how to delete that Brazilian bitch out of the rotation. Finally, someone set this god-forsaken time-machine to 1985, and the Trev serenaded us with his version Robert Palmer's 'Addicted to Love'.
Eventually we arrived at the club, just in time to catch the last few songs of Candi and the Cavities - and we were immediately disappointed we didn't get to see more of them. Comprised of Slum City alums, Candi and Suzanne - along with Toby Motard on bass and Aaron from the Chumps on drums - these disco-punks worked their Kraftwerk-meets-Gang of Four magic, as seen in a number of live videos on youtube. Neat stuff.
Next up were The New Drugs - an all-star Huey Lewis cover band, made up of members of Oh, Beast!, Awesome Cool Dudes, and fronted by ex-Cheezus/Noodle/Peenbeets/Summer Breeze/Ron Titter Band vocalist, Greg Beets, as seen here.
How can one describe a band that tenderizes the 80's power-rock of one of the greatest bands of all time with a Casio-powered meat-mallet? Simply awesome. If you don't like this band, then you don't like music. Highlights included renditions of such hits as 'Heart and Soul', 'I Want a New Drug', 'Hip To Be Square', 'Power of Love', and of course 'The Heart of Rock and Roll'. Phenomenal.
Finally, we took the stage, and regalled the crowd with a stellar set of yacht punk, as always. If you don't know what we sound like, then check out our myspace page. It's pretty self-explanatory. Or check out Nash Cook's photos documenting our performance. If we sounded half as good as we looked, then we must've been freakin' awesome.
Also, we have to give mad props to Prince Klassen, who kept the dance-floor bumping' all night long with a great mix of yacht-rock classics and SMOOTH music. He truly was 'Klassen' up the joint. Out.
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