Taking Sides: Thirty Odd Foot of Grunts vs Dogstar (yeah, like either one is a winner....)

Somewhat sadly, their new album features Russel's face plastered all over the cover, and they're now called Russel Crowe's Thirty Odd blah blah blah, which I'm sure really burns his balls.

i heard that colin farrell is receiving musical coaching from crowe. i can't wait for his lastest release.

I read this as "he wouldn't have to SWEEP."
As in, he's so fucking terrible he should be a janitor. (Note: nothing against janitors, lord knows I love 'em, but y'know, I think that's truly a role KR would be better suited for).

I was disappointed that Billy Bob Thornton's album didn't have him singing in the Sling Blade voice (which I was expecting).
"Hey, Carl...whats wrong with this band?"
"Hain't got no gas innit. Mmmmhyup."

They were the Barbusters, as featured in Paul Schrader's film "Light Of Day". Michael McKean was also a member. I've never seen the movie, but Trent Reznor (pre-NIN) has a small role in it.

More than one? The mind boggles.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2vOT9c2sz-U

Would have been awesome if all they picked were bands featuring actors.

BTW, this is as good a time as any to tell my Thirty Odd Foot of Grunts story. Some time ago the band was playing here, I want to say five nights at the House of Blues. Crowe must have been making a movie nearby (I know he has connections with a couple of local theatre groups). Anyway, Crowe was making himself available for interviews, but with one catch: he only wanted to talk about music. No surprise, 99% of interest immediately faded, except from my friend, who I will call Bob. Bob figures, what the hell, I'll talk music with Russell Crowe. So the interview happens, and Crowe talks music, and is really interested in checking out non-touristy blues clubs and asks my friend if he could send a list of recommendations to Crowe's handler, and my friend does just that. The next day or so he's watching TV and the phone rings. My friend picks up.

"Bob? It's Russell, mate!"
"Hey Russell, how's it going?"
"Good, mate! Me and the band, we're going to see James Brown play, do you want to join us?"

So my friend does what anyone would do and says yes. He motors over to the House of Blues where Crowe and crew have a private box. My friend joins them up there, and while Russell is being a little shy, the rest of the band - which had never been to America, and maybe never outside Australia - were super friendly. They all had a blast, and at the end of the night Crowe finally came up to make some small talk (my friend figured he was sort of feeling him out first, to make sure he was cool). Crowe was super nice to him, and my friend Bob ended up driving the band's drummer around Chicago in the middle of the night, showing him the sights. When he finally got home he filed away the whole thing as just a surreal experience.

But the next night, as he and his girlfriend were about to go out for ice cream, the phone rings again.

"Bob? It's Russell, mate! What are you up to? You should come hang out!"
"Um, I'm about to head to Dairy Queen."

I wish I could say my friend dragged Crowe along to Dairy Queen, or that he ditched his girlfriend for a crazy night, or even that he brought her along to hang with Crowe and Crowe or a bandmate ran off with her, because those would all be funny stories. But instead Bob blew him off lol. Plans are plans, right? And he never heard from Crowe again.

Some time later either he or I read a feature on Crowe, and it turns out that at least back then this was his MO. Find a local to show him the sights, hang out, just generally have a contact outside of the usual array of ass kissers and stalkers for the next time he comes through town. Makes sense.