If The Ramones, Johnny Paycheck, a gallon of whiskey, a nasty smokin' habit and Mel McDaniel could simultaneously impregnate the love child of Hank Williams and Glen Danzig, that baby would start a punk band with an illiterate hillbilly and they would put out a record that would be excellent mood music for stuffin' your mama, bound and gagged, in the trunk of a '59 Caddy... That's what they sound like.
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