TRASH GALLERY are gutsy, arena-ready, apocalypse dudes. Fist-pumping, tambourine shakin', hardcore superstars, who ought to be touring the bigger rooms, with their fellow reptiles, such as, Michael Monroe, 69 Eyes, Grinderman, the Jim Jones Revue, or Crystal Pistol. We're talkin' full-fledged and bona fide, death defying, sky divin', motorcycle ridin', race car drivin', blowtorch blastin', glass shattering, maximum performance-oriented, Kung-Fu, punk-as-fook, 24 hours a day, action heroes....What distinguishes this dangerous lot of punk-metal sleaze beasts from the instantly forgettable, unfortunate herds of sub-par, stoner/sleaze/street-metal/Hot Topic clad, Target commercials you see playing at those wanking, over-priced, insufferably corporatized, suburbanite, Warped and Rocklahoma festivals; endorsing energy drinks; and invading our underground, in recent years, is the pure volume, intensity, and ruthless severity of their unforgiving, teeth gnashing, assaultive ammunition's, and volatile, atomic, high-voltage, raw power supply. Their moody vocalist, NEEN, may remind you of a more cerebral Dregen (from Backyard Babies), an Earthier Billy Idol, or even, a suave, gutter-glam, gentleman dandy, like Nick Marsh, or Ian Astbury. While Neen's graceful and fluid guitar tones, are often, evocative of Derwood, Andy McCoy, Gary Sunshine, and Billy Duffy, his never-came-to-fuck-around engine room's relentless, all-night, machine gun battering, could send groups like Bullets And Octane, Avenged Sevenfold, or Murder Dolls scurrying, sheepishly, back home to their Mom's house, for some much needed rest and recuperation, in the safety of their Jack Skellington night-lights, with an Emily The Strange doll, under the Batman covers, in their Marilyn Manson wallpapered, old bedrooms. Har. Har. It took Neen's crew awhile to properly hone this sound, and they've only just started to really hit their stride, because in the early days of the 'Gallery, they were often considered "Too Aerosmith" for the skeptical Peter Murphy crowd, or "Too Theatre Of Hate" arty for the metal-maniacs. Some have compared their sound to vintage CULT, or an updated, heavier, Lords Of The New Church.
Only in these more recent times, have TRASH GALLERY effectively been drawing a diverse, and receptive audience, composed of representatives from all the various rock'n'roll tribes. The same types of crowds one used to see at Tex And The Horse-Heads, Jane's Addiction, the Nymphs, or Guns N Roses concerts: show-bizzy shlebs, beach bunnies, head bangers, blue-bloods, cow punks, gender-benders, crusty mohawks, black-bloc anarchist politico factions, film-students, greaser Clash clones, death rock queens, long haired freaks, bearded bikers, and Emo-Aged Kids With Glam Shags Who Just Saw That Runaways movie...
There aren't that many bands in league with the Cult, Thee Hypnotics, Sea Hags, or Hangmen, anymore, but TRASH GALLERY are rapidly developing a worldwide fan base, comprised of nostalgic glam/gothic/grebo/metal-head/punk and post-punk audiences, like us(!), who are all starving for TRASH GALLERY'S thundering, rough and ready-to-snap, style of never say die, street fightin' antheming, blisteringly nasty riffs, and big freight locomotive grooves, reminiscent of vintage Bad Co., Four Horsemen, Golden Earring, and old AC/DC...While NEEN and company are sure to appeal to anyone who still lives in the filthy, flea-bag motels, all along the Sunset Strip; or who wears black leather to job interviews; or loves the cocaine, it should be underscored that these are no common, metal-sludgers, at work, here. Though it may seem obvious that their favorite color is chrome, the real black heart of TRASH GALLERY'S signature sound is in the sort of brooding, introspective, soul-powered, doom-punk that makes the bad girls shimmy. The perfect occasion to break-out the hairspray, multiple rosaries, bolero hats, and black fishnets. With ominous, psychedelic-tinged, and highly-danceable, gothic nuances, ala Nick Cave, Southern Death Cult, Smack, and Spear Of Destiny. TRASH GALLERY have that star dusted swing that takes you back to your own gloriously black-smudged youth. They probably ought to focus on the European market, Great Britain loves this "come hither" kind of heavy rock'n'roll. The children of the night-what lovely music they make. Once they play some of the notorious English festivals, it's only a matter of time, before they're likely, destined, to receive their own Mojo Magazine Maverick Awards, presented to them by Lemmy, or Ozzy, or Wayne Hussey from the Mission U.K.
Of special interest to any of you Pole-Dancers, and Roller-Derby Girls, who are bored with Nine Inch Nails, but also to Extreme Sports performers,
meth-snorting long-distance truck drivers, and flame tattooed fans of Turbonegro, the Hellacopters, Zodiac Mindwarp, and Black Label Society! You
are all sure to dig their ballsy, biker-gang bravado, risk-taking, lust-for-life gusto, and lurid, haunting sensuality. Old soul mysticism, bloodshot
moons, highway bars, Native American vision quests, and minimalist, cocktail napkin beat poetry are all certain to enthrall the black magic women,
restless spirited drifters, carnies, hot rod girls, and shamanic, wild-eyed seekers endeavoring to cleanse their own personal, wind-shields of
perception...TRASH GALLERY unapologetically exhibit a raunchy, cocksure, ferociousness, provided in no small part, by their unholy barbarian drummer,
Jason, who seemingly, possesses Dave Lombardo's vehement thirst for blood, with Chuck Biscuits', or Mark Brzezicki's precision.
Enchanting goth'n'roll/sleaze-rock/gutter-punk, with memorable, sing-along choruses; and gonzo, diesel-fuelled dynamics. Urban gypsies: Guitarist,
Connie, and Bassist, Brian Mayhem, complete this savage line-up. The dashing rogues of TRASH GALLERY are Bleeding Heart Graffiti-Artists. Demolition
Experts. Absolute Vikings. Avenging Angels. Rick Rubin, Andy Wallace, or Steve Jones should produce these guys, pronto. The ideal soundtrack to your
next A.M. road-trip, fire escape barbecue, bozo bourbon binge, or violent, big-budget, action-flick. Punk-Globe Magazine interviewed Trash Gallery's
unstoppable, Lead Rock star, NEEN: