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Kid
Citizen: A Short Biographical Essay
Busted out, born, and bred in Harlem, NYC, this self-made misery and
despair has been known to get us drippy-drippy with the music that makes
us feel like we have something to throw down; our "two cents,"
if you will. Some say, the one thing that is for sure is that the sounds
provided by this bleeding edge duo will no doubt induce "techno-slammin'
freaked out
visuals," as you scream, "this is the best music I've heard
since I caught SOULTRAIN this morning!" That, sir, I garr-unn-tee.
-Lee Rude
Like
a lit match between cartoon toes, the intentions here are to give you
a proverbial "hotfoot."
First on the roster, Mr. Lee Rude, the kingpin of knowledge, is heavily
entrenched in heartbreak and debacle, the ultimate recluse, plotting
guitar rock in his cavernous mansion. Let me tell you, this boy can
spot a fake. Listen carefully and you can hear him purring. Rah-Rah,
Boo-ya.
Jay LaPierre is the backbone of Kid Citizen, eating words and his own
stinkfoot, his guitar trick-lickery is second to none, as is his Spectoresque
production techniques. "Wall of sound" takes on a new meaning
as each guitar "stroke-a stroke-a" is layered on top of itself
until it becomes a warhammer of musical "trick-nastery." He
can sometimes be heard through the hills, "Beethoven can suck my
nutz!" Hey, but in all seriousness, suck it through a straw, roll
it around in your mouth for a minute, and swallow. Because you know,
and I know, there just really isn't much sense here anymore. Giving
a shit may be questionable at this point, but we can't help
but love. I think it's starting to hurt the ol' think tank. Scoop it,
and scoop it, and scoop it 'till you
drop. Hey, we'll dabble... even into a little fully-clothed homoerotic
gay porn. This means
everything and nothing my dear Caesar.
Signed,
KID CITIZEN
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Pleasant Avenues and the Intimate XXXperience