The CYCLONES are a Punk Rock duo from New York City. Our new release, "We're Livin' Like Weasels!," features a special appearance by Dead Boys' bassist Jeff Magnum. As if that wasn't enough incentive, read the liner notes below penned by outlaw moto-journalist Bruise Lee of PUNK and Creamy Fist mags. We hope you buy and enjoy this record, "It's Beat!!!"
From Bruise Lee:
"I guess this space requires that I write something wise. But I’m not feeling wise tonight. -Hunter S. Thompson wrote that. I think it was the author’s note to Fear and Loathing in America, his collection of personal correspondences. But I’m getting sidetracked, as I tend to do when I’m totally high on cocaine. Just in case I’m being too subtle, I’m totally high on cocaine. So when in doubt; appropriate. -I wrote that. In fact, I recycled those very words in several published articles, Jack. I’m sorry, but I’m a lazy drug addict and that’s the best that I could do this late in the evening. What can I say about a band whose biggest claim to fame is having their sticker appear in the background of a Shakira photo that ran in Rolling Stone. Well? Exactly.
Then I had this idea of comparing the Cyclones to the White Stripes. Like, “The Cyclones; they’re like the White Stripes –except not gay.” But that proved to be a dead end too. Yes it’s true they are a two-piece but that’s where similarities end. Back to square one.
So fuck it. I’m just gonna say it like I smell it. These guys fucking stink worse than my asshole after eating hot tacos. But they keep it real. Real drunk. And that’s part of their appeal. All jokes aside though, the Cyclones are the best band since the Ramones. You can trust me, because I’m a journalist. I make good words. We know these things.
If the Cyclones were a girl, I’d take that skanky ho into the woods and then fuck her on top of a rock. And I’m not just saying that because everyone thinks I’m Dave’s girlfriend. We stopped doing that a long time ago, my friend.
But before Dave and Vin even began calling themselves the Cyclones, they were USA Wasted and that’s how I was introduced to their music. It was at the annual 2001 Joey Ramone X-mas bash. While the other bands that performed that night were of dubious coolness, I was floored by USA Wasted. For one thing, they had no bass player. For another, they covered only songs that Dee Dee Ramone, a bass player, wrote, at a Joey Ramone Christmas party. The sound that came out of that two-piece was amazing. They played as fast as I’m ugly. And that’s pretty fast. And so it was.
USA Wasted’s Punk Rock Glitterati is among the best albums ever recorded. It’s epic. -A true album; an experience; not just a collection of songs thrown together on disk. Forget the fact that the record is 15 minutes long and most songs clock in at 1 _ minutes. There’s brilliance there. And they do it without a bass line.
And I meant it when I said they keep it real. No pre-packaged teenage rebellion here. That ship has sailed a long time ago. Dave Wasted is called Dave Wasted because he is Dave Wasted. It’s not something an image consultant came up with. He doesn’t even know how to spell image consultant.
A prodigious drinker and drug abuser, Dave actually lives what he writes in song. Other bands say they’re this and that, but he actually is: the last of the Mohicans. I can vouch for it. He’s living like a weasel. This is a guy who unsuccessfully tried to get fired from his day job for four months. He walked around the office barefoot drinking beer, day after day. What finally did it though was when he took a shit on his boss’s desk. She didn’t like that. And the results were predictable.
The venerable Vin Cyclone is prone to violent outbursts but slightly less belligerent than his singer. He has an unhealthy appetite for Asian girls and bleeds easily, but that doesn’t stop him from shooting everyone a fuck-you look. I vaguely recall once we were making crystal meth in his bathtub when Vin began to savagely beat my kidneys with a dirty gym sock full of quarters. My crime? -I had the audacity to fart in his presence. He called me a Jag-off and threw me out his apartment that night. I never did get any speed.
But forget what he thinks about me for a second, I still say he’s the best drummer in New York. Dave and I joke that he’s easily replaceable with a Casio drum machine, but the truth is, no drum machine can make the crazy faces that Vin makes as he beats the drums like I beat my wife. Now that’s lavish praise.
I got high hopes for this record. -Mostly because I am always high. But if you don’t like this album, you are seriously gay and you should take some medicine for that. Sorry I had to be the one to tell you."
Editor; Creamy Fist!
#1 Fan; Cyclones