Nashville Pussy

with Syrup and Truckadelic

Echo Lounge, Atlanta, GA • February 24, 2000

Frank Mullen

“nashville_pussy_2”

Originally from Athens, GA, Nashville Pussy are about as far away on the musical spectrum from better-known Athens exports REM as one can get. After all, I’ve never seen Michael Stipe breathe fire, and I don’t think he sports a Harley-style “Eat Me” tattoo on his belly (but I’m not positive). In fact, if REM is one of your fave bands, put Nashville Pussy on your “avoid at all costs” list. But if you love to RAWK, and don’t mind a slight chance of being incinerated, then don’t miss them.

Opening the show, local stomp-rockers Truckadelic set the mood for an unsettlingly unsober evening. They played music to drink and drive to, and reminded me of the Cramps (if fronted by Skynyrd’s Ronnie Van Zant).

Syrup, from Tallahassee, FL, made a new fashion statement with their highly-decorated cowboy hats. Kicking out an energetic brand of southern glam rock, their “ Midnight Cowboy on crank” vibe went over well. They left a trail of glitter and ringing ears behind them.

“nashville_pussy_3”

“nashville_pussy_1”

Nashville Pussy was everything I’d hoped for and more. I’d heard about their live shows, and they didn’t disappoint. Like a mix of all the best parts of Mötörhead, AC/DC, and the Dwarves, there’s nothing cerebral about them, just head-kicking rock – sweating bodies, flying leaps, Gibson/Marshall/Fender equipment turned well past 11. Their songs (like “Go Motherfucker Go,” “All Fucked Up,” and “Snake Eyes”) hit you like thrown piston at 100 miles an hour.

After a one-hour onslaught, larger than life bassist Corey Parks provided the literal show-stopper – ending their set by blowing atomic fireballs over the crowd. Drenched in beer, sweat, and flammable liquid, the crowd left – wanting more, but still satisfied. ◼