Juice reviews band of horses (acoustic)

because my guitar player still qualifies as psychologically inept and we haven’t started recording a new album yet, let alone play live gigs, i’ve been forced to write for this crap blog, reviewing live shows. a few weeks back i went to see band of horses, acoustic, at carnegie hall.
band of horses (great). carnegie hall (cool for them). acoustic (lies!) every member of the eight person band was plugged into something. there were cords and pedals everywhere. stacks of amps, roadies running in and out; so much so, they could of billed it as an anti-acoustic show. it only occurs to me now, that maybe it was the american hipster irony at work. makes sense, the hall was filled to the teeth with “hipsters,” the self-righteous, indie culture mavens from brooklyn. half the bars in williamsburg must have been empty that night. but rightfully so! the band of horses deserve to be listened to live, and doing so at carnegie hall was quite a treat. despite the fact that it was incorrectly billed, i loved the show.

they started off a bit slow for my taste, and it continued to go that way through the first half of the set. in fact, ‘bout six songs in, one of williamsburg’s finest yelped, “pick up the pace.” to which horses front man, ben bridwell, replied, “this one’s for you,” and proceeded to play their slowest, saddest song. i liked that move. F the audience, i say. and to that wanker who dared dictate the band’s set, i hope you come to a SEXually show one day. if you do, try and get to the front row. i’d like to have a piss on your head.

rest of the show was brilliant, as they eventually did pick up the pace. they even had a real nice look about them, all bearded, wearing skinny jeans and flannels. they got this whole brooklyn jesus thing going. there was bridwell, the lead brooklyn jesus. and the other guy, fat brooklyn jesus (sorry, “heavy set” brooklyn jesus is what i meant). they had drummer brooklyn jesus, several back up brooklyn jesus. they even had a cowboy brooklyn jesus. made me want to do a whole punk brooklyn jesus thing. [note to stylist: potato sacks, sewn into butt tight pants. wooden cross as a back satchel. crown of thorns, but made from heroine needles.] i wish i could grow a beard the way johnnie can. [note to doctor: can full body laser hair removal be reversed? i’ve grown bored with that fetish anyhow.]

it was a bit stuffy to watch a show at c hall. all of it was sitting down, even during the encore. and there was a phone nazi, making sure we didn’t communicate to the outside world. “not even so much as a tweet,” he said to me, waggin his finger back and forth like a sex toy. worst of all, no booze at the seats. really? I mean, come on! quite the stupid little rule, no? I was about to pull my alcohol handicap card, which allows me to drink anywhere i need to, but there was this guy in front of me, a drunk brooklyn jesus, who brought his own pint of whiskey. he got so drunk, i was able to snatch his bottle and convince him the phone nazi took it.
i have to admit, it’d be really grand to play carnegie hall one day. [note to self: play carnegie hall. vomit on stage. might be a first.] it wasn’t until half way through the show that I noticed that the entire band (of horses) was standing on asian carpets. Is that a hall thing, or horses thing? [note to evelyn: a rider in all my contracts that I must perform on asain carpets. this includes ALL concerts, interviews (even with police), and the many various appearances, even if it’s just in my apartment, pretending in front of the mirror.] thank you.

Juice from The SEXually Goes to the Met

"i went to a museum on saturday; only god knows how I survived it- like watching paint dry in a church. there were lots of statues among some egyptian ruins- snooze it; thanks, but not. lots of pictures of dead people, loads of my english descendants- i quite like that fuex military thing they had going for a bit (note to stylist: viet nam green meets Elizabethan military). there were loads of shots of baby Jesus and his mother; quite fetching were the ones sans the baby- like, as soon as she became a single mother, not so much. more pictures of dead people, and more after that. made me quite sleepy, actually. i practically passed out from exhaustion within the first fifteen minutes of entering. [right, well, I should preface my whole reason for being there in the first place was because I was talkin to this bird walkin down the street- ‘bout eleven A in the M, coming home from the night before. so we was chattin it up- blasé blasé- and I end up walkin into the Met (the metropolitan museum of art, thank you very much). well, turns out the bird had a geeza, but by the time I figured it, I was fully trapped inside. it’s impossible to find your way out of such places, very much like a bloody Ikea. we did an event at an Ikea once. opened a store in rotterdam. retarded place, that is. gave us furniture as payment (really poor management back then). furniture lasted about as long as a relationship with a groupie.]

anyway, I stumble on this francis bacon exhibit. little did i know, it was right near the front door. had i known, i would have been out like a sprout. now, bacon was english, born in london, 1920’s. rich family; father was a bit of a bully. i remembered this from the crap grammar academy i went to as a kid. they wouldn't let us look at his paintings cause they were a bit too racy for youthful eyes. well, one of me mates tells me later, bacon was into men, and that’s the reason they didn’t show us. they didn’t want to get us gayed up- like that could happen. for me, well, whateva, you know? (whateva drives the art, is what i mean.) what really intrigued me was that bacon liked his sex rough. privy to it myself, luv, if given the chance. see, but bacon was beat by his father. and he saw a lot of violence in his life time- living in europe during WWII says enough. i think i can understand why he might want to create that scenario. but I wasn’t beat by my father- mine ignored me. the only violence i see is created by myself, or me band mates, like in a bar fight, or that little mishap that happened with the special kids on the tube that strange easter sunday. those oddities, and while i’m in bed, when i happen upon a girl who shares the same proclivities. even then, it’s controlled violence, mutual by all accounts. [please stop judging me, it’s really not necessary. it is what it is and i am what i am. things as they are.] but I digress…
bacon uses great color, weird form, and a completely compelling subject matter- check out that shite about pope innocent X; F’d up, to say the least. and here i am, feeling quite okay about my own F’d up misogynistic lyrics. not so bad, bacon. thanks for sharing!"

The Sexually - Season 2- Episode 5

The Sexually: Season 2, Episode 5... A Sexual Dream

Juice has a dream sequence...

Watch Season 2, Episode 3

Pending A Few Lawsuits

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Watch Episode 5 of In The Can

Episode 5: The Chat
Evelyn and Juice have a chat.

Season 2, Episode 2

SEASON 2, EPISODE 2: HARD BASTARD
An interview with Julian. He's vicious.

Happy Belated Valentine’s Day

We’ve all been there. A person we’ve been around for quite some time, or at least long enough for some kind of familiarity, yet we don’t know their name. Well, more than ever, particularly in the week following Valentine’s Day, I’m suffering through with very little sensitivity to the parties opposite me in this quandary. You see, I know who you are, luv. I might even know your exact breast size, or the specific way I can please you, I just don’t know your name.

Thank god that this year the celebration of sex and romance fell on the weekend. It enabled me to have two early Valentine romps, one Thursday, one Friday (which quite annoyingly carried into Saturday). On the actual day of celebrating the Saint, I engage in sinning with two lovelies, who seemed very content to share in my prowess. After all, sharing love and sweaty affection is the essence of the day, right? Not leaving out Sunday, I was able to extend myself into yet another moment of debauchery, this one appropriately including loads of chocolate, though not much of it was eaten (well, at least in the way you one would traditionally do so). But I digress.

The following Friday, I was approached by a fantastic ginger, who seemed quite angry with me for not seeing/calling/sexing her on the aforementioned day of affection, which I found odd, because at first glance, I was certain I did not know her. At second glance, a quick peek at the flesh under her left hip bone, revealing a bite mark (mine, to be exact), I understood that I did know her. But, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, I did not know her name. And you’d think I would say, that I did not REMEMEBER her name, but that would be a lie. I never knew her name from the start. I don’t find this to be shameful, per say, but I am a bit embarrassed by it. I mean, knowing a woman, in the biblical sense of the term, should preclude that I have a general idea of what to call her when engaged in public or non-sexual situations.

I do have a defense, if you care to hear it. When we met, she would not tell me her name. Soon after, when we engaged in skin-to-skin combat (the reason for the bite mark), she was adamant that I call her Pet.

She had enjoyed my compliance so much that she wanted to see me again, and again, and again. She was quite pissed that I did not call her. So there I was, standing at the bar, apologizing, and saying, Happy Belated Valentine’s Day…whatever your name is.

Juice

The Sexually - Episode 5

Episode 5: Watch it now!

Juice and Evelyn have a talk...

in their words

The band discovered some photos of them lying around and felt the need to comment. Here are some of their thoughts, in their words.


the pink underwear is to remind myself that men can indeed wear pink, under certain circumstances, when girls are around... and they ask you to wear pink underwear. we ARE the SEXually! -juice


yes, it looks fun, luv. but it takes two zolofts and a half a bottle of whiskey to get a smile out of me when johnnie's in the room. he's actually biting me. - juice


yes, i'm johnnie napalm. back in the public eye. yes, i used to be a rockstar. but i've been to rockstar anonymous and i'm cured. no longer will i torture the world with my songs about my own tortured soul. from here on out (i'm going solo, luv) it will only be songs about peace and happiness and my desire to copulate with planet earth. i don't need a band to do that. one day, me, johnnie napalm, will have the courage to sing about my lover's butt. and the world will rejoice, in me... and my lover's butt. - johnnie napalm.


my name is Dylan Bob (unlawfully pictured left). my band mates, Johhnie (right) and Julianne (center) are always having a laugh at my expense. one of these days they'll find a vintage car bomb in their trousers. Then who's laughing, mates? ...me. i think. yeah, definatetly me. yeah. - dylan


t's difficult, being the front man in an international rock band. all the late nights, boozing and drugging with celebrities and models. a fella gets exhausted, keeping up with all the sexually active women i encounter. that's why i get at least twenty-four hours of sleep a week, preferably on wednesday. - juice

The Sexually: Episode 3 - Watch It Now!

Without Johnny, the other band members must start writing new songs after they find out they can't just cover their old songs under a new name.

The Sexually Rocks Again

Yesterday Britain's Greatest Rock Band got together to shoot some more episodes of The Sexually.


Juice sleeps it off with an unidentified woman...


PJ Deboy (Johnnie) and Jeff Lycett (Juice) have a laugh between takes...

Getting all the boys under one roof has proved too volatile for TV, so we dragged them outside onto the streets of NY. Freezing their butts off in Central Park, we managed to squeeze out the band's greatest mystery to date - how did they find Johnnie and get him back?


Director, Alicia Arinella waits as the shot is set up

And clearly even the cold doesn't keep them from their usual insanity.


It was a cold day!

Check back soon to see these episodes uploaded!

WATCH EPISODE 1 HERE

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The Sexually Is Here

After the huge success of our webseries: The In-Betweens of Holly Malone and In the Can, On the Leesh presents: The Sexually. Think “Entourage” meets “Spinal Tap.”





Britain's next great punk band, The Napalms, lead by ripping guitarist Johnnie Napalm and their pelvic proned front man Juice, are now toiling in New York, having lost all their rights to both name and music ("bit of a problem, luv"). Super-Lawyer, Evelyn Harden is retuning them for new greatness as The Sexually. Aside from Juice's addiction to himself, she has one more problem... the talent, the music, Johnnie, is missing!



Recently shot in a swanky office in Chelsea, “The Sexually” should have its premiere in April. Check out some some of our production stills and, if you can’t wait until April and want to get a taste now, check out some promo’s on our website: www.ontheleesh.com



Check out the promo here...

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