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 THE
GOBSHITES- Another Round (Site)
The northeast’s favorite clan o’Gobshites are back with another round
of acousticelticorized covers blistering with traditional Irish stout.
Opening and closing (well, not including the multi-second “Outro” and
a hidden gem) with Stiff Little Fingers’ “Roaring Boys (Part 1 and 2),
The Gobshites wedge in another ten covers not including the multi second
“Outro” and hidden gem I wrote of earlier in this amazingly structured
sentence. “Down But Not Out,” written by former Gobshite bassist and
current front man for
Boston
’s The Pug Uglies, deals with the ups and downs of life and leads
wonderfully into The Crybabies’ “Pubcrawling.” Another
Boston
favorite, Darkbuster, is covered with the banjo plucking (Pret Woodburn)
“Liquor.” Fiddle player Betty Widerski and
Boston
’s answer to Flogging Molly’s Matt Hensley on accordion Stephan Feeney
conspire nicely on The Damned’s “Drinking About My Baby.” Your
clogged veins and arteries will surly flow with The Sex Pistols’ sea
chantey “Friggin’ in the Riggin’” and slow a bit to the weepy
sounding “Here’s Comes a Regular,” originally by The Replacements. A
cover CD just wouldn’t be complete without a Ramones cover and here
it’s “Somebody Put Something in My Drink.” Hey, where ever lead
singer/guitarist Peter Walsh goes, something Ramones will follow. Hidden
is the great Kermit’s Finger (another
Boston
band) Christmas song “Sorry Mom, I Spent Your Christmas Present Money on
Beer.” Oh my Gawd, this is so weird. “Sorry Mom…” is by Kermit’s
Finger and sung by Evil Eddie C. (awesome guy), who once hosted a massive
party at his house in which Darkbuster played and performed “Liquor”
and good friend Larry Ramona (bassist for the now defunct Medveds)
yelled in the background, “Everybody!” for the song’s sing along
chorus. On a funny note, I have a recording of this show and Lenny (Darkbuster’s
singer) proclaimed, “This is the largest show we’ve ever played in
front of a washer and drier!” Hmm, oddly, whenever I listen to any of my
three Gobshites cds, I always find myself thumbing my fingers on the table
and feet on the floor to drummer Chuck Allen’s and bassist Rob
O’Neill’s rousing rhythm pounding, but I have not a jiving bone (uh uh
uh uh uh, I wrote “bone”) in my body and if they ever saw me butcher
their beats, they’d certainly give me a wedgie I wouldn’t soon forget.
Get the CD, see ‘em live, and if you see yours truly there, buy him a
Harpoon IPA for this stunningly on topic review. – Denis Sheehan
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