CD Review of 3D by Casey Driessen

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starstarstarstarno star Label: Sugar Hill Records
Released: 2006
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Is that a fire alarm? Whatever. Listen, I saw the cover of this record and I was all into it ‘cause the dude on the cover (presumably the guy that created this record) totally looks like Gibby Haynes, and I was totally stoked cause I was really expecting some spoken yet effected vocal stylings about drugs and other issues that were the focus of the mid to late ‘90s a la the Butthole Surfers. Guess what I got? Absolutely nothing whatsoever resembling the Butthole Surfers. I got an instrumental fiddle record. Dude, I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.

So then I was like, “Well, even though there are no vocals (at least two songs in), maybe the song titles will be cool like “Cough Syrup” and “Ulcer Breakout” from Electriclarryland.” Wrong again, assholeface. What I got were titles like “Gaptooth” and “Jerusalem Ridge.” If you took a handful of “wrong” and threw it up in the air when the wind was blowing, it would all land on me. Just call me Wrong McWrongerson.

Whoa. Finally some vocals! Haha. Holy shit! They’re rocking that speaker effect on the vocals like the Butthole Surfers used to! That is just weird. I mean, really weird! Dreams do come true. Well kinda… It’s like trying to pound out some knuckle-children while imagining some hot chick you saw making out with some other hot chick, but all you can conjure up is the image of your eighth grade gym teacher dropping a duce. And I don’t know about you, but my eighth grade gym teacher wasn’t hot. Maybe she was. I can’t remember. We’ll save that for another sit-down.

So the elongated point of this silly little diatribe is to state for the record that, if you like pseudo jam band fiddle Americana type joints, then this is all you, kid. And while I don’t consider myself a “voice of the people,” I do like to fancy myself someone who has their finger on the pulse. Or at least in the proximity of the pulse. That said, this will probably be the last time you hear about this dude. Sorry. I don’t make ‘em or break ‘em (well, I sorta do), I just call ‘em like I see ‘em. I love using the term “’em.” It’s so “street.” Anyway, this dude’s band is like a “who’s who” of session cats. I don’t know. It’s good. Maybe it’s great. I’ll toss it back in the changer again when I’m older.

~Josh Preston