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Show Review

Doomtree are a pretty intense crew. Not in their everyday interactions, mind you. We've had the chance to work with several members on solo endeavors over the years. We found guys like SIMS and P.O.S. to be polite, down-to-earth, and amicable...sweethearts, really. But something happens when they occupy a stage, when Lazerbeak and Paper Tiger start pummeling the crowd with their hefty blue-collar beats and cinematic, yet menacing soundtracks, when 5 MCs assault the audience with verse after blistering verse. It can be a lot to take in.

Doomtree recently swung by our drizzly shindig at Empire in Austin TX. They showed up early, hung out, hit the stage, proclaimed that "early afternoon SXSW is killing it right now, turned in an extremely enthusiastic performance, and then milled about in the rain for another hour or so watching (and tweeting at) some of the other bands taking the stage that day. On "No Way, from their 2011 debut, No Kings, the crew proclaims, "Attack! And we're on you like a Mack Truck, and well...that's pretty much what this glitchy, hyper-active Garage Gig feels like.

Transcript

We got cracks in our armor, got cracks in the ceiling
And this axe that we're wielding Will react when we're feeling that
Crack, attack, attack, and we're on you like like a Mack Truck
Your honor, we are that fucking filthy
We got cracks in our armor, got cracks in the ceiling
And this axe that we're wielding Will react when we're feeling that
Crack, attack, attack, and we're on on you like like a Mack Truck
Your honor, we are that fucking filthy
It's 2000 and self destruct
everybody yelling that shit is all fucked
Yuck, I never liked the construct of that square wheel,
like "money ain't real"
Wait, but that ain't real.
Oh, now I get it
We could take it all and split it, give it to the village
Doomtree villains out for the killing, no kidding
Good man but I went a bit bitter
when they took a little bit of the dinner off my plate
High stakes, okay, Ill play, but it ain't your game
And it ain't your rules and it ain't your world,
and I brought my crew
We some dirty lip fuck your rules living ugly goons
It's no kings, no way,
You're so vain, you probably think it's about you
Well it is and it ain't, and it ain't but it is
I go so fucking nasty no restraint
Well I get props and I play it off, I see them hot and I fade them all
Hello world it's L.
O.
P.
B.
T.
Z.
, keep your ring
Move out of my way, let me do my thing Let me do my thing, I'mma do my thing
- South By Southwest, how's your afternoon? We're called Doomtree, we're from Minnesota.
Friction lock rivet
Goonish as all fuck, prudent to all stunts
Proving the laws of logarithm like the wag of a dog's tail
Bark back, woof! Light the rag on your cocktail
SPart that, champ on that slang chop
Chump on that chomp rap, probably a stomp sack
Man, give me my prop back
Hold your tooth to my non dap, I ain't no Diddy boy
That Beni know we go scrimp dance Dougie, don't stop that!
Senor Frreal Z three R zero
None other, who's cooler, hula-hooping through bank zeroes
Hewlett packing, loogie yacking on Don Hero's
Bomb appearance, nights in Paris, raw dogging cross limos
Toss demos, snot rockets blow up the sub-labels
Long tables, calling shots on a crowd potato
The slang mongrel with fanged tonsils We slay goblins gangly gang violent
Wrangling fake monsters
We got cracks in our armor, got cracks in the ceiling
And this axe that we're wielding Will react when we're feeling that
Crack, attack, attack, and we're on on you like like a Mack Truck
Your honor, we are that fucking filthy
We got cracks in our armor, got cracks in the ceiling
And this axe that we're wielding Will react when we're feeling that
Crack, attack, attack, and we're on on you like a Mack Truck
Your honor, we are that fucking filthy
What's up? No kings, no love for your made up things
In the paint but it ain't no game on the wall with a little complaint
Leave that stain, weave through cities dodging rain
No thing but an open door, it's yours
No lie but you've got to get dirty man fix your pride
We some preach them real, reach them, steal them from low ideals type dudes
With a stepped up set of skills
and an ick style so kill that wills update daily
No frills or pilled up babies
No posture phony just rock solid un-fuck-with-able dropped knowledge
No love for the bull horns give them
Thorns get them in, swarm, let me make friends with a storm
Buddy get up close to the war Insides out, no love for the boring
Naw, bored, and I bet the hearts off beating
Under hardwood flooring, poor man's Poe
We got cracks in our armor, got cracks in the ceiling
And this axe that we're wielding Will react when we're feeling that
Crack, attack, attack, and we're on on you like like a Mack Truck
Your honor, we are that fucking filthy
- Thank you.
Aw, shit yeah.
Ride on Blue Boy dipped in a Uni
Dickin on a squad car, vickin on a fully
Sick as a Sunni, strapped with a bobby
Pullin on the pin, he Tutankhamun
Boots to the ceiling, boostin the serum
So sincere, brutes new to the feeling
Ridin on the old scene, buck if you hear me
Bucks for the fabric of your fiber Bricks, dips, blicks, big, brighter
Bees in a trap? No, bees in a hive Gee is for Geezus, Gs and a nine
O is for O.
G.
s, grease in the eyes Crease in the khakis, piece to the side
Forgotten youth when older mutants played Magneto
We believed the strip and never plagiarized their credo
Fashion cutter for the fascist, dirty-lipped and truly goony
Looney Tune Schooly Ds come off cartoony
No King Cloak and Dagger, Lavabanger Legacy
No anonymity, no forced validity
False Hopes, we got close, man, we got ghost
Tough shows and rough roads until every sign said, GO
Take the skins Hang em on the walls
Not trophies, just reminders What is left here when we fall
Ay, I'm pushing up on your tempo She too stoned Nintendo
I'm Vint Cerf, she Pink Floyd I'm jumpin out the window
Sike, I'm fly, I float aight right by Cut my own moat
Get by with my chose fam Dismantle thrones
All the fuck in your station All up in your dark
Awkward in ya Marc Maron conversations
Call em out the park Hangin out then Van
Halen cabs in your city
All up on your block opposite the cops
Y'all should all fuck with me Style like a Cadillac
Crash with a battle axe handy Gucci store fire on the couture
Then planes, trains, and automobiles, I'm John Candy
Y'all just can't stand me I make em feel ridiculous
Pickin apart they postures put together meticulously awful
In the air, hostile The fingernails, watch em
Sit and stare, box em if I gotta Panic is the fashion
I arrow to the action Pied Piper through all types a shit
Types like me y'all ain't fuckin with
Go get it Or go without
You going nowhere Run that shit into the ground
Go get it Or go without
We go for broke And run that shit into the ground
Struck by lightning With a hand in the sand
Came to with a fist fused in glass
Closed the circuit skull full of white light, mouthful of ash
Sparks on the pavement Dragging the chain
Anchor's off, man, lost it again Steady on gotta push through the rain
Weather in the veins, came for this Train for this, fuck
Made for this, pray they miss, duck Duck gray duck gets up and running
Rest fall back like a bridge in London Brand new brakes I never touch em
You're all spin move, you're doing too much
Rental car, trick cigar
I'm just laughing while that whole thing blows up
Looking like I'm Joakim Noah Black mask, take your gas money
My name is Sims but call me David Lynch, I make em act funny
I ain't afraid to change lines, state, date, or face
I'm option two when you skate or die but still survive on basslines
At least for the next eight months Then I change up like it ain't much
You do the Roger Rabbit in Shape Ups
Still blabbing bout some frame up vision
MN living gray duck risen Nay fucks given, way subliminal
Class-war criminal trying to make my stance more pivotal
See what is left is suspect The Pepsi Gen went crystal meth
And punk rock dads scream rap is dead
I laughed until I lost my chill
I'm really real, half Built to Spill half Kill at Will
Half shark alligator and my Philly filled
Mill City kid in the field
Gritty is in the blood, proof is in the track
Fifty in the tank, on you like a Mac Truck
Roll with a ton on my back Better back up fast
Go get it Or go without
You going nowhere Run that shit into the ground
Go get it Or go without
We go for broke And run that shit into the ground
Clock 'em all day, chunk 'em all night Looking for a fight
Lean to the right or leave on your left Lean to the chest, drink to that bite
Fuck around and swing on a bigger man Bing bing bing bing
Ding ding, the bell ring in my head Shaved clean off the cleaver head
Now the dude tink tink
Click when he blink down the ramp of the minivan
Cuffs clink when they link round the wrist and I think
When I'm gonna sleep when I'm gonna eat again?
Give a fuck what you think
Give a fuck less what you gonna do about
In the Minne we penny pinching
Any inch and we take a mile,
style with a double pitching, fix in a cinch
Have a Coke and a smirk, I'll smack the taste out your shirt
Rushdie that or run a check Catch a fade or catch respect
Move (move) around with a gat from a gun show
Middle of a murder 'Merica, murder murder not scareda ya
Yeah I hearda ya, crew out like a hernia
Stop
Had a rough one, the type make a man wanna jump from the top
And it sucks, make a tough wanna chuck hella rocks at the cops
But he stuck with his middle finger up looking dumb on the block
Out of luck with his generator dry tryna find a way to not die
Hot-wired, open in the out there, no shade
Going for the next wave, close shave But he running out the clock though
Rock those in their silly ass faces Yeah, any damn day
I'ma reach out, you can touch faith They can douse mud, we can soak bleach
Teach, work, live, speak that Doomtree
Uh, generation generators Uh, spark up the accelerator
Uh, gas pedal, gas pedal Push it, push it
This is "never settle" Uh, this is my theme song
Hard as the brick that I cut my teeth on Soft as the science made you
Push it, push it, push it Farther, louder, harder
Full figure - nah full fact
Bad with a ten-key, better with a black Bic
Ratchet clip for a garter belt Going Sally Hansen, nails hard as hell
Is that moonshine in a champagne flute? Old English in a new tattoo?
What we do to be last the man standing Break an ankle to stick the landing
And I'll be singing in the silo, let that echo clear my head
Learn to tolerate the iocane, got real good at playing dead
Call to arms young statuettes Coquetting's clever yet, bet
Venus de Milo's better with her bayonet
Uh, generation generators Uh, spark up the accelerator
Uh, gas pedal, gas pedal Push it, push it
This is "never settle" Uh, this is my theme song
Hard as the brick that I cut my teeth on Soft as the science made you
Push it, push it, push it Farther, louder, harder
- What up homerun.
- We're Doomtree if you just wandered in to get out of the rain.
Thanks for coming through.
Like the clock in the gut of the 'gator They all talk (tick)
Earned every dime in my pocket They pocket watching
Eyes wide--you must of gotten in the belladonna
Watch if you wanna I work in that Castellano lisp
French Resistance, Oxford comma Get press like I'm all cuff and collars
Winter's brisk, double down, if you're gonna stay on it
Seasons here even freeze the deep water
But it keeps the genes hardy
So feed a fever, the winter we starve keep
Razor in the cheek, robin in the ribcage
Braided in the street, hair down in the crib stay
Easy on the beat Mouths get easier to feed
Meter's running, every minute gotta matter--move
I got a minimum to meet
I'm in that two-seater beater bumping Big Freedia
Scheming on something I could eat up
With this dime and this nickel
I might take down Visa for the three percent I feed them
I am not your profit I am Travis fucking Bickle
Kill a paparazzi lobby Bring the body down to Lockheed
Stuff it in a Maserati
Just playing, that's just the funny shit I'm dreaming
While I'm pouring your Chianti
Serve a couple tables and I'm off on my Bianchi
I'm outie kemosabe weaving all these zombies by me
Money, money, money all they ever fucking say
I should've left yesterday
Okay I need a couple bucks to fill my cup and you know this
But holding on to something gold never was the focus
Never fell for the hocus pocus, it's all bogus
Bullshit, goldfish, guppies, yuppies fucking disgust me
Ugly man, I'm sick of this shit so I untie my wrists
And I undock my ship
I dream a new planet with only fun occupants
So I uncock my hips and I dance like an idiot
See how electric my city is Lake City pacemaker
Put the pulse in it Big Sims and I keep it authentic
Running Man jump back, bio-funk divisible
Hungry Jack swing, hide your trunk visible
Steel wool brillo teeth, sleepin like I'm Hampton
Leak blood in widow's peaks, geekin up vampin
C'mon Dougie I been rap--frrserious
4 minus 5 (1) Fantastic Furious
WWF, www dot calm the fuck down right now
Or you'll get WW3'd, all of you dummy to me
Money turn putty when fuddy duddies act funny with me
TiVo everything, eenie meanie that's mine
I said gimme guh-gimme gimme gimme plenty
Beamer and the Sim simma The Vimmy, the semi
Petty bounty, any penny or any fedi
Homie is you relevant? Lemme get a piece
I'ma retell it, develop it, sell it to the beast
Rollin in a bread box, mayo spillin On the ceiling, bailing 187
Satan kneeling, hailing, doing my bidding
Grillin, never chillin, I'm Hella Frreal
Peeling on God's lemons, spillin milk, drowning kittens
Sick hurlin, feelin like I'm illin, wheelin, and dealin
Mike the Thriller, chill killer it's been a minute
You can show and prove, I'ma stand and deliver it
- How y'all doin'? All right? We having fun here? All right.
We're called Doomtree, we're from Minneapolis, Minnesota.
We have a brand new record out, it's called 'All Hands.
' We're really excited about it, we're really happy to... be sharing some of these brand new songs with you.
- Are you good, are you on? - I'm good, I'm on.
- Sweet. The lyrics to this song go... There goes Johnny sweeping the leg There goes Jake cuffing the hands
There are things that I'll never understand
They're just looking for a buyer Easy meat, cheap prey supplier
Situation looking dire
Shot back at the devil I was heavy under fire
It's okay I'm reloaded
They can't rap along but God damn they quote it
God damn it's frozen My heart is Minnesota
This boulder If you didn't notice
Something inside of me is slowly exploding
I feel like Kobe on the sideline Sidewinder missile I am cyanide
Inert for the last time land mine I am out of my Goddamn skull
Pedal to the floor board I am all pulse I don't play fault
I just dust off walk over them coals Iron out later
I ain't waiting on an elevator Each mark is a caption
Each line on my face shows exactly what happened
You'll know what you need when it slips by
but I'm not looking back for the rest of my
Get up like I never fucking got up before
And I get it like I never fucking got it before
You'll see how dark once they hit the light
know what I've made from the marks on my hands
Get up like I never fucking got up before
And I get it like I never fucking got it before
Simon says Miranda's right But William tells it different
Says Gideon brought a rifle Was looking for a fight
The Housewives of Gomorrah all boarded up from here to the border
Sordid falling on our own swords or standing still
Heartbreak hill
I'ma make a fortune in small bills
to show that I can give it back in my will
Like the back of my hands I know hard work
My back my hands Yeah both still hurt
Like a catamaran two skins One for the water one for the wind
Like a battering ram, I get it in
lemme at it again and when the juniper blooms we get a river of gin
Get up, let's go, move homie right now
Shut em up, they make it hard to keep the food down
Ninety-nine lives Livin' by the Konami code
Fold em all origami mode Let the drama slow
Never ever ever I'm an adventure
Keep em on they toes Drippy-nose fucks flake
I dip past no breaks
Skippin' y'all flipping y'alls hot cakes eating
I'ma man the damn Weber
Stand aside, handle mine, add the cheddar
Kiss the chef
Nah gut, skin, and eat the chef before he eats the rest
I'm here to keep the nest safe and sound the alarm
Ride the earthquakes and hang ten harm
Y'all get tame I'ma non-stopper
Y'all flip the frame We pull the copper
You'll know what you need when it slips by
but I'm not looking back for the rest of my
Get up like I never fucking got up before
And I get it like I never fucking got it before
You'll see how dark once they hit the light
know what I've made from the marks on my hands
Get up like I never fucking got up before
And I get it like I never fucking got it before
Python wings, viper claws I been breaking all types of laws
Diamond teeth, steel cut jaws Got raised by fightin' dogs
Been around the block so many times Can't find my house
Wanna fit the earth in the palm of my hand but it keeps on bustin' out
Father figure, figure 8, motherland turned motherboard
Satellite-ville fly the flag of the HD SMPTE color bars
Plasticine, whole world building outward
Second Life, no cheats for the first Warp Whistle level up out the gutter
All hunger no thirst
No thirst No thirst
No thirst No thirst
No thirst No thirst
No thirst
All hunger no thirst
You'll see how dark once they hit the light
but I'm not looking back for the rest of my
Get up like I never fucking got up before
And I get it like I never fucking got it before
- Can I get just a little bit more here? Now the candle's in the window and it's open
We watch the flames duke it out With every gust and we're hoping
No it must just burn To the bottom of the wick
It's the bottom of the 5th and that shit is still burning
We're still turning every table when it's needed
Not laying there defeated (no) we draw our bows back repeatedly
Then off with the arrows And the Gods, and the Pharaohs
From the bottom of our hearts We're from the bottom of the barrel
Cause peril knows no bounds And terror won't slow down
But there's a whole low down of beauty to be shown now
We broke ground And broke our backs stacking bricks
We never broke our promises You'll never know just half of it
We're adamant on building every wall and stair sturdy
And when our work is done Then we'll call our shares worthy
In the land of milk and honey We're too shy to say we're thirsty
We just make a little money and we... We buy a little mercy
No more my lord No more my lord
Lord I'll never turn back No more my lord
Now the candle's in the window and it's open
We watch the flames duke it out With every gust and we're hoping
No it must just burn To the bottom of the wick
It's the bottom of the 5th and that shit is still burning
If you welcome every trespass Then every tramp's a guest
Give what they would take from you Then every theft's a gift
Hold too tightly to what's in your hands or in your chest
And the future, it won't open Palm readers can't work fists
Broken bones are stronger for the breaking
No, the danger's in the bending
Those concessions that you never can take back
Curl you round a cane you're still intact
But not quite lame Better to grit your teeth
Ready the cast and let it snap We're always first to come in
We're running when we hit the ground We never do leave early
Stand sentry at the lost and found We just make a little money and we...
We start that long walk into town Where we buy a little mercy
No more my lord No more my lord
Lord I'll never turn back No more my lord
So no more talk about the backfires This time we fire back
Light a match and light the past up before it catches up
We'll raise a mast and cast off
Yeah, we'll break some legs, we'll mend em
And then we'll take the casts off We've had our losses
We've had our victories
We've sat across from every victim of our misery
That pounding in our chests Was just a symptom of our sympathy
We'll lay ourselves to rest With both our winnings and our injuries
We're so hungry We're so thirsty
I'm gonna hunt until it hurts me And it hurts me...
And it's aching We're aching...
We're so thirsty
We're gonna make a little money and we'll...
We'll buy a little mercy
No more my lord No more my lord
Lord I'll never turn back No more my lord
Cause in this land of milk and honey we're too shy to say we're thirsty
We just make a little money and we buy a little mercy
Now the candle's in the window and it's open
We watch the flames duke it out With every gust and we're hoping
No it must just burn To the bottom of the wick
It's the bottom of the 5th and that shit is still burning
- Hey, who's been here since like Monday, or whatever? Who got here like yesterday and you're all fuckin' fresh and ready to do this? - Wow.
- Some were in the middle? Anybody? Nobody's got shit to say.
I've got a little tiny problem right now.
We're about to do a straight up dance party jam... - Yeah.
- And you guys have been looking at us like we're a museum.
Which is tight, that's cool, 'cause it seems like you're still here, you didn't leave, you're paying attention, you're having a good time that's fucking tight.
But we're gonna feel like assholes dancing so fucking hard, as tired as we are, if you guys are just like... - And even if you don't know how to dance, we come with some instructional dances.
For people that don't dance! - We got two real easy ones for ya.
Show 'em the first one.
- The first one is called 'gorilla arms.
' It's like you have a whole bunch of tissues in your pockets and shit.
And you're just kinda... Or it's called 'bushwhacker' if anybody's a WWF fan in here.
There you go.
And then the second one... get the fucking microphone from around your neck... The second one Stev's favorite one.
It's the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2 dance.
How's it go? Go ninja, go ninja, go! Go ninja! So if you don't know how to dance, fuck it, throw your arms like that.
You can do that, right? - Yeah you don't have to do shit, you don't have to move your legs...you just gotta fuckin' move.
- You'll get another free drink from fuckin'... Absolut Pomegranate, whatever it is out here.
- Hey yo, fuck it.
Throw that thing on.
Yeah, that's all right! - Kinda, kinda.
Tight.
- There's a handful that's just like, "I've been waiting for this all fuckin' day!" - No one will judge you, I promise.
- I won't judge you either.
You ready? Lungs like smoke stacks Young black terror attack
Hair on their neck raised Scaring them back
Keeping my Kerouac first rate They in the first grade
Begging like babies Gimme gimme wah
We too dirty man Shimmy shimmy ya
Skinny bars, naw All cents no penny jar
Snub a star, celebrity fed
No meals worth mentioning, all unsettling
Nihilist, anarchist, mind set reddening Need what? fuck meds
All dead everything These cats on that
All hail petty things Ready with the cheat
I'mma beat em in they sleep As soon as the door open
They hitting the floor hoping To get to the front row
My shows are so lightning
Where ever we go the team steadily grows
Man who knows, they figure we do it right, but
No one gives a fuck about shit So fuck your shit, we fuck shit up
Cause shit's fucked anyway
Shit is run into the ground (i know right)
I don't wanna think about it I just wanna get down
until we come up
I don't wanna think about it I just wanna get down
Until we come up
I don't wanna think about it I just wanna get down
It ain't nothing but a Doomtree Goon thing
Get your face peeled off homeboy
Uday Hussein, barehanded, ripping them Beware citizen, terror got a new face
Class war hooligan
Gimme what you got, show me what you want
Let me fix your market crash your stock
Bad credit, no credit, should've never paid back
Banks selling guns and farmers hunting grey slacks
Maybach's chopped off mounted with the Gatling
Beverly Trillbillies treasure trunk rattling
We setting up Fight Clubs, you hang at night clubs
Passing out cocktails the kind that light up
Everybody in the back get risky
Burn the club down if you're spending more than fifty
And if we ugly up the scene? (Yeah right)
I don't wanna think about it I just wanna Get Down!
until we come up
I don't wanna think about it I just wanna get down
until we come up
I don't wanna think about it I just wanna get down
Say yeah
Say yeah
Say yes!
- All right! Early afternoon SXSW is killing it right now! Let's just try to get a bounce goin'! Come on, one, two, three get the fuck up! I don't wanna think about it I just wanna get down
I don't wanna think about it I just wanna get down
I don't wanna think about it I just wanna get down
I don't wanna think about it I just wanna get down
- Hey, we're Doomtree.
Thank you guys so much for hanging out with us.
New record 'All Hands.
'

Artist Bio

Wings and teeth. No two symbols couldve been better chosen to represent Minneapolis rap stalwarts Doomtree. The endlessly innovative crew/label has defied categorization from the start, leaving behind convention for whats best described as aggressive transcendence. Through a tireless work ethic, take-noprisoners production, lyrics that never shy from truth, and an always shifting stylistic mix, this family has carved out an elevated corner unto itself. And like most families, as well as the imagery this one employs, Doomtree is as defined by its internal differences as its similarities: Seven artists whose diversity of tastes and consistency of character combine to make the team an unstoppable, honest, creatively vicious whole.

Its unsurprising then that Doomtrees origins are a decade deep, dating back to 2001 when a handful of friends fresh out of high school hatched a plan to make a life out of the passion thatd carried them that far. Handmade CD-Rs (the start of their cult-beloved False Hopes series) and local shows (echoed by the annual Doomtree Blowout festival today) evolved into a proper business and respectable home base. In the time since, P.O.S, Dessa, Sims, Cecil Otter, Mike Mictlan, Lazerbeak and Paper Tiger have become stars in their own right, but no matter where their careers take them (poetry books, the Gayngs super-band with Bon Iver, records with Rhymesayers, Strange Famous and Frenchkiss), they always come home.

While 2008's full-crew album Doomtree functioned as a group manifesto and (re)introduction to each members particular charms, 2011 was all about claiming what was already theirs. As rap, flush with new blood, began to get wild again, Doomtree reminded us that theyve been doing it for a decade, fusing punks explosive energy with hip-hops heady swagger. The WUGAZI mixtape 13 Chambers, mashing Fugazi classics with Wu-Tang bangers, was a perfect palate cleanser for the groups strikingly ambitious No Kings LP. Ready to break new collaborative ground, they stocked up on booze and sandwich fixings, retreated to a Wisconsin cabin and stayed there till theyd created something bold, beautiful and hard.

The title of the record is both a call for rebellion and respect: Obey no kings, seek no thrones. Indeed No Kings displays a gang of friends who are fearless in each others company and beholden to none. At times musical and lush (Beacon) and at times dark and clanging (Bolt Cutter), the beats project the radical power of P.O.S, the inventive classicism of Cecil Otter, the moving moodiness of Paper Tiger and the face-melting heat of Lazerbeak. Meanwhile, Mike Mictlan and Sims trade lithe lines with much swagger over smashing drums on Punch-Out, Otter and Dessa get bluesy on top of the mournful guitar of Little Mercy, and P.O.S leads the amped-up charge for Bangarang, which celebrates ten years in our lane.

Both fun and fierce, blade-flashing and uplifting, unpredictable and unapologetic, No Kings is the sound of seven people who look different, talk different and listen to different music coming together and simply going full-tilt on an album from start to finish. Wings and teethits the Doomtree way.

Source: Artist Site

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