The Beasts Of Bourbon
Beyond good & evil
best of

The Beasts of Bourbon, God in hell what kind of fucked up insolence is this?
 Like all the best groups, The Beasts of Bourbon look like a gang: 
a gang of lazy, insolent, sneering, lasvivious and threateneing men. 
Cocksure would be another word. Cliche has become such a part of life 
that it almost defies belief when you see on ebrought to life. 
Although, cliche is the wrong word, it's archetype that I'm groping 
blindly for. Make no mistake, this capital A archetype we have here. 
This is the reason your parents hate rock 'n' roll. This is the reason 
the southern Baptists burnt records. 
This is the reason the Ed Sullivan show filmed Elvis from the waist up. 
This is the Real Deal. The hopped-up, hot-rodded, adrenalin-juiced to 
the max, factor 1,000%. This is a tale to be written in HEADLINES. 
Big black block type. murder/romance. Ever since the Beasts first 
ectoplasmically discharged into this world, spitting tacks and reaping 
class 'A' chaos, they have been disintegrating in a series of world 
beating nervous breakdowns. They operate in grand mal fits and starts. 
Every time is the last time. Each incarnation is never again. 
But it's in their blood. That nasty tainted stuff that courses 
corrosively through their vein carrying a rythmic virus. 
There's but one way to scratch this itch. 
The Beasts pursue their own demons - stay true to their own hallucination 
and vision. They are living proof that Punk Rock is content not style. 
They are walking contradiction. They sputter with blank-eyed inarticulate 
rage, then turn around and articulate it. They have no savvy running 
down their chins. From the beginning they discharged into the world a 
greay explosion of leering insolence. A gang, on the verge of mutiny. 
Blasphemous, amoral, The Beasts evaporate and consolidate, delinquent 
ghosts and with each cyclonic incarnation they assume a different guise. 
From the shot-gun-garage of The Axeman's Jazz to the crackling, 
electric sputter that was Gone, they are a walking, talking new 
testament to the credo that whatever doesn't kill you will only make 
you stronger. When The Beasts slouch into Bethlehem, 
the centre cannot hold.

Rowland S. Howard

<<BACK PAGE>>
Instore September 27, 1999

TRACKLISTING:
1.	Psycho
2.	DROP OUT
3.	HARD FOR YOU
4.	PLAYGROUND
5.	DOOR TO YOUR SOUL
6.	LET'S GET FUNKY
7.	BLACK MILK
8.	FINGER LICKIN'
9.	COOL FIRE
10.	WORDS FROM A WOMAN
11.	EXECUTION DAY
12.	CHASE THE DRAGON
13.	JUST RIGHT
14.	LOW ROAD
15.	CAN'T SAY NO
16.	SATURATED
17.	FAKE
18.	MAKEM CRY
19.	IS THAT LOVE
20.	GOODBYE FRIENDS

BONUS DISC
Recorded live at The Eslanade Hotel, St Kilda, Victoria in 1997

1.	WHAT A WAY TO LIVE
2. 	HARD FOR YOU
3.	STRAIGHT HARD & LONG
4.	FAKE
5.	MAKEM CRY


Thanks Dave Kimball for typing this in!