Introduce yourself…
Dirty Old John, inappropriate guitar touching and primary singhole for The Dead Livers of Evansville, IN. Mark Meat fucks bass (Chilean sea) and frequently thwarts the good intentions of back-up mouthnoise. Ryan Mann plays the BORRRRRRRRRR-IIINNNNNNGGGGGGG!!!! and the Himalayan fastdrums.
How did the band start?
I’m glad you asked, Bob, as I was just about to tell you and that might have been a bit awkward if we had different plans. Is it OK if I call you Bob? Horace it is then. My fault.
If I was a typing man, I reckon I’d peckin’ that Ryan Mann and I were once in a band together named Dirty Old Men. See how I switched “Men” with “John” and made it MY name? I know it’s a neat idea, but please let me finish my story, OK ‘Ace?
Anyturd, we lost our bass player to….umm…..The War! Ryan Mann and I were having a few Pink Squirrels at the local Poles ‘N’ Holes when The Mark unexpectedly caressed the stage to the contemporary hymn The Stroke by Billy Squier. We, of course, had no choice but to chloroform this magnificent Trick Bag and insist shit happened. And soon.
How did you come up with the name?
See Billy, you need to know that back when telephones still hung around with walls and tables and the like, a considerable representation of American society hired friendly robots to answer their telephones for them when they were too busy out not answering telephones. Another relevant dropping to head-scoop would be that Ryan Mann moonlights as a Doctor of Trasheopathy at a hospital rife with drunken co-workers. At this point in history, Ryan was still a proud member of Dirty Old Men. One night, after a thorough evasion of sobriety, one of Ryan’s medical buddies sloppily contacted Ryan’s phone-bot and slurred an epic tale of changing Ryan’s band name to The Dead Livers. Ryan’s chum thought it was clever and we have yet to disagree with him. This enchanting electronic suggestion can be aurally witnessed by stubbornly ear-holding Dirty Old Men’s first CD Beer On, and allowing it to run its natural course until a hidden track of the aforementioned speech will light up your senses with realization.
Who would you say are your influences?
I don’t know if I care for your tone, Reggie. I’m just trying to have a good time, so by all means….please relax. One day we’ll look back on this time in our lives and laugh until our pants fall off. And you’re going to feel downright silly for getting angry about it now.
I write about three thirds of the material, give or take a few syllables, so I guess I should likely fashion a personal response to this question. On the other penis, Mark and Ryan simply do not permit me to discuss my personal musical tastes within earshot of potential fans. I’ve already said too much about the subject and I’m afraid I’m a tad uncomfortable.
In all seriousness, we like all the stuff that you like and hate all the stuff you hate. You possibly can’t go wrong with Ramones, Misfits, NOFX….all the bands that you totally agree with.
Fast, Funny, AND Awesome (mind you), are all equally influential constituents of our collective Songdiaper.
What is the punk scene like in Indiana?
It’s kind of “hit and miss”, depending on which 15 people ran out of meth that night. Occasionally, a bachelorette party or some shit will forget to leave the bar before we douse the establishment in viscous Rock, and everyone has a wonderful evening all over the place. Together.
Describe the song writing process...
I write the lyrics and guitarded melodies for a song or threeve….in my bedroom, by myself. I tend to then cry horribly for a spell, convince myself that I am still a good person, and instantly show up at Mark’s house unannounced. I show Mark where to put his fingers and when to move his hands, and after I ejaculate, we discuss my visions of what his bass lines could be if he had real arms. It’s right around this point in the process that I realize that I have yet again trespassed the wrong home and profusely apologize to the victim for my rapey intrusion. I then call Mark and ask him to give me a ride home from jail.
Ryan Mann© is a rare find for any drum-bot enthusiast, as he can be rapidly programmed while maintaining a vigilant and aggressive disregard for retention of his programming. Imagine a machine that could learn absolutely anything in mere minutes, precisely demonstrate total mastery of its new programs repeatedly for hours, then routinely erase roughly 85% of the new programs simply because it thinks that shit is hilarious.
What have you released?
In 2008, we released the carefully uncircumcised Fucking Disgusting, boasting not EIGHT….not THIRTY-SEVEN….but TWENTY-TWO tracks of a truly not-bad extra-good happy-fun candy-world YOU time. We rule! And so shall you. You know….if you listen to it and stuff.
In 2010, we squirted forth a self-titled chunk of mesmerizing filth that carries the unofficial title of The Brown Album. It also has the same name as our band. And it’s self-titled. Further, it has easily less than twice the amount of songs as a mere one-fourth of our previous release.
Both of them rewarding shits AND some rather unique merchandise can be found at http://thedeadlivers.bandcamp.com/ I’m not trying to be a whore, I’m just trying to help you become a more desirable citizen and increase your overall value to not only myself, but to Mark and Ryan as well.
We have been producing fairly consistently over the past few years, and we are confident we will meet our future release goals in 2012 as demonstrated by the trend chart below:
Who are some of the bands you have done shows with?
We have been very fortunate to play with a lot of amazing bands. I will list some, but I hope any readers will not be offended if I forget a few….if you’ve read this far, you should be proud of me for dressing myself most days.
As far as more widely known acts, we’ve opened for The Queers and Lollipop Factory and we regularly bask in the unbridled glory of Be My Doppelganger. RIP Ryan Dunn….it won’t be the same, dude.
Some great local to semi-local co-rockers: Dick Genius & The Shithouse Rats, ZXZ, Stinkbomb, The Hyper Tensions, and The Commies.
What in the fuck would punk rock do without the word “The”?
Have you toured?
Are you making fun of us? Sure, we typically just drive to our show within a 3 or 4 hour radius, rock, and then drive home the same night….but we mean what we say when we say that our band van doesn’t go very far….or fast….and gas prices….and the government…..global warming man……significant others…..children of the eternal surprise…….no record label……
Was that question really necessary? I mean, c’mon man….you make me feel like an idiot. Thanks. Thanks a lot. Fucking tours.
Do you prefer small clubs or large venues?
Absolutely! Book us like Dan-o, Richard.
Is there a favorite band you like to do shows with?
My favorite band gets the hell off of the stage when they open for us and stays to watch us play after their set. My other favorite band lets us play first so we can drink more without worrying we will drunkenly puke on an innocent patron of punk.
We also love to play with Be My Doppelganger.
Is there a favorite place you like to do shows at?
Third Street Dive in Louisville, KY is great, though it’s been awhile. Melody Inn in Indianapolis was great too, but I haven’t successfully contacted them in several fifty-twos of weeks.
We frequent TJ’s Stockyard Inn in Evansville, IN more than most lately. It’s great because we are permitted to play music there. That’s always cool when anywhere lets us do that. Lanhuck’s, also in Evansville, boasts the city’s largest collection of my secret urine.
What do you see is the future of the Dead Livers?
We are going to be one of those bands that someone wealthy, powerful, and/or influential will happen upon by sheer random circumstance. That person will likely pull strings to gain us a modest record deal with a punk label that is successful, but not so much that it is no longer considered punk to be on their label. We will quit our jobs and abandon our children temporarily to tour and promote our ground-breaking innovative songless album in 2012. I will temporarily become addicted to heroin and Mark and Ryan will kick me out of the band. The record label will pay for my rehabilitation and I will successfully recover. I will finally decide to stop writing songs about poop, vaginas, and blow-jobs and compose a pop-punk one-hit wonder that will alienate all of my punk friends. The song will be our only hit and we will fade away rapidly, though we will make enough in royalties to pay for most of our haircuts. We will start an on-call rapid-response janitorial service, but we will secretly solve mysteries on the down low for our REAL customers. And then Madam Crystalshit hung the fuck up and I never got to hear the end of my fortune. Sometimes I wonder about you, Chuck.
How can people contact the band?
They sure as hell better not if they know what’s good for them.
But if people insist, we use the Facebook like everybody else: http://www.facebook.com/deadlivers
In case you forgot already, buy our shit at: http://thedeadlivers.bandcamp.com/
0 comments:
Post a Comment