San Francisco’s The Grannies dress like zombie grandmas, with crinkle-faced masks, flowery house dresses, and wrinkly stockings. And not just in their backyard, either. These maniacs are quite happy to prance all around the US and Europe in these get-ups. What would possess a rock n’ roll band to do such a thing? Chicks can’t possibly dig it. Can they? Am I missing something? Anyway, forget about the dresses for a second, and trust me when I tell you that this consistently excellent band does not need any gimmicks. I mean, I’m glad they’ve got one, it makes for funnier vacation pictures, but they could get by without the gags. The Grannies sound mixes melodic, hard-charging punk with soulful grunge (no small wonder that their producer is grunge architect Jack Endino) and sleazy, balls-out rock n’ roll. It’s a tasty confection made even tastier by their flair for penning memorable, catchy songs with tongue in cheek titles (and subject matter) like “Don’t Step on My Tits” and “Jesus Was a Homo.” They’re also adept at conjuring up the odd serious tune, like the affecting “The Wrong Song” from their “Erected Lady Man” album. The Grannies are a fucking good band, man. Which makes me wonder why they’re not bigger. And then I remember why – it’s because they’re dressed like crazy old women.
The Grannies have a new CD/DVD combo out now called “Gumjob” on their own label, Wondertaker. (www.wondertaker.com) I’ll be writing more about it either in my Sleaze column in Classic or on my website. For now here’s a couple choice Erected cuts. Oh, and before I leave, here’s one of my favorite old lady jokes:
One day two old ladies met up for a spot of lunch, one of the ladies said to the other, "Did you come on the bus?”
The other lady replied, "Yeah, but I made it look like an asthma attack.”