The Black Lips are playing tonight at the Bowery Ballroom in Manhattan. Pack a pipe, poncho and pogo stick and expect to get wasted, sprayed and tossed around. And if that doesn't sound like your of cup of pee check 'em out playing Cowboys and Indians for the big screen.
They’ve got three LPs and loads of singles on some of the coolest indie labels in America. They’ve toured Europe twice. They’ve been touring the States for the last six years. They’ve just become of legal age to hang out in the bars they play in. They’ve played five shows in the New York area in the last month, but call Atlanta home. They have songs called “Feeling Gay,” “Dirty Hands,” and “Everybody Loves a Cocksucker,” that alternate from Hank-drawled country, Soledad Brothers-esque blues and Stonsey rock with kerosene soaked vocals that go from yodels to screams. They are the Black Lips, and the sooner you accept them into your life, the better off you’ll be.