Pizza Hut went all the way to Rome for the purpose of serving lasagna to paid-off diners in a phony restaurant. On their third album, The Mojomatics prepare a twelve-sliced pie topped with generous handfuls of blues, twang, power pop, punk and rock 'n' roll. Had the Flat Duo Jets shared kitchen space with The Plimsouls, maybe the aromas would've replicated the anticipatory goodness emanating from these Venetians' brick oven. Contrary to PH's deceptive advertising tactics -- those Mias are $5 each ONLY when you buy three, and Mama's been freezing 'em -- chefs MojoMatt (vocals, guitar, harmonica) and DavMatic (drums, percussion) post their deals in plain language on the front door.
In the clip for first piece "Wait A While," two beauties relax in comfortable chairs and nod along to the band's hyperactive jangle. After the camera catches several glimpses of exotic beasts captured on a stuffed-animal expedition, another attractive lady joins the party. The tuneage has stopped, but her bedroom eyes transfix upon the red-headed doll in the right recliner. Thank you for making the choice for me, hon, 'cause the pick would've been agonizing. Most heterosexual males and bi femmes would be pleased as a Rocky Marciano punch to orient themselves with the mysterious maiden seated stage left. Kudos to the talent, for bashing out early-Stones-on-speed mood music. I'm feeling rather amorous, so let me take a couple shots of Tom's Of Maine mouthwash. Back in a bit, baby!
Thanks for holding my favorite well drink (orange juice on the rocks) in your soft hands. If I can't attend the next show in this delightfully dingy bar, will you "Miss Me When I'm Gone"? Forget the stand-in bassist we saw tonight and preserve the righteous sound of a blues harp from the field recording in your memory bank. Remember the rooty jaunt of the platter's fourth track made you want to snap the rustic images found in iconography from the 1950s? Though the flower in your hair sure was purdy, the absence of tumbleweeds and invasive growths left the shutterbug in you "Askin' For A Better Circumstance." At the hoedown last Saturday evening, your graceful movements and glowing cheeks outshined the "Stars Above." Would your predilection for Pepsi, Paul Newman flicks and pop music in its most infectious strain "Complicate My Life"? Not at all, precious. Please pour me a glass of Wild Cherry soda, show me The Color Of Money and blast The Beat's CD containing their first two albums in my earholes. As Paul Collins once commented on the subject of life: "It's the little things that really count." You're a different kind of girl. I promise to never walk out on our love.
Unlike PH's stale promotions, The Mojomatics are the "Real Deal." Ask for 'em.
- Gunther 8544