Malcolm Salls Gives Us The Lowdown, Baby!

A staple on the garage scene since forming in1996, Atlanta, Georgia's Nashville Pussy recently came to Boston's House of Blues in support of The Reverend Horton Heat and Motorhead this Sunday, September 6th. The 4 piece brought their unique brand of redneck garage punk metal southern rock to a appreciative Beantown crowd, melting faces, kicking asses, and breaking a few hearts during the all too short, albeit blistering set.

From the opening call and response of, "what time is it?", "its PUSSY time!!", to the final strains of feedback, the band did not disappoint.

Frontman Blaine Cartwright, rasped his way through favorites like, "Go Motherfucker Go", "Come On Come On", and "Hate and Whiskey", with classic redneckian aplomb, while rock solid drummer Jeremy Thompson beat the first ten rows nearly to death with what felt like a shock wave from a atomic bomb test.

It would be easy to overlook the talent of guitarist Ruyter Suys and bassist Karen Cuda based on the fact that they are both drop dead gorgeous....if you had no ears.In a world of Kelly's, Jessica's, Ashlee's and dozens of other vapid, talentless buffoons, it is damn refreshing to see a couple of women who are musicians first and bombshell's second.

Ruyters stage antics are as legendary , incendiary and entertaining as her guitar idol, Angus Young. And one can only guess at what miracle material her seemingly endless supply of leopard print bras are made of that can restrain her through her dervish-like gyrations. Boob references aside, this woman can work the frets with the best of them, and plays with more heart than....than a really big hearted thing that is wicked good on the guitar....YEAH!!

From her fur clad shoulders to the cutest god damned  pink doc martens I've ever seen, Karen Cuda, owned everyone stage right...if Keith Richards, were taller, much better looking, played bass, and didn't have a penis, he might come close to the unbridled awesomeness that is Karen.  One got the impression that while bringing the fucking thunder,  she didn't so much move around on stage, but by sheer force of will and bad assitude, manipulated the matter surrounding her to give the appearance of movement...she's that fucking cool....and I'll machete fight anyone who says different.

I may be biased though...I want nothing more out of life than to run away and join the circus with her.

In true Nashville Pussy fashion, the band made themselves available for pictures, autographs, conversation and general adoration at the merch table after their set...something that is never overlooked and never fails to impress me. This grass roots style of promotion only reinforces that these are regular people, who are lucky and talented  enough to do what they love for a living. 

Gibsons, Marshalls, Ampegs, Fenders, Ludwigs, Pabst Blue Ribbons, porno moustaches, gorgeous women and pure and simple RAWK.....I think I have seen the afterlife....like some musical Valhalla.

Heaven, thy name be Pussy.....

Nashville Pussy continues to support Reverend Horton Heat and Motorhead through October. Do yourself a favor and check them out next time they come around.

Malcolm Salls is a freelance writer based in southern New Hampshire, and hopes one day to grow up to be Sammy Davis Jr.

Navhille Pussy can be found at: http://www.nashvillepussy.com/ Have a great time!