Bones

One Eyed Jacks

November 04, 2005

Now I know where the raw, testosterone-fueled hump of Liquidrone comes from. The degenerate, slithery charm of the Baton Rouge rock band is also present in Bones, the project of Liquidrone guitarist Michael Miller.

Let me tell you about the music first. What's unusual for a band is that it's not the most important part of Bones. The propulsive rock of Bones is covered in Miller's fuzz and the crash of Scott Campbell's cymbals. The duo rolls along on a railroad blues and stops on a dime. The music is soft while Miller sings his grievances, but then it gets loud and nasty when his steam evaporates.

The most important parts of Bones are the lyrics and Miller's attitude. Just like in Liquidrone, Miller becomes his music's character onstage. The disenchanted man who muses about boredom, sex, and death seems a little bit closer to the real Miller than the epilectic persona he plays in Liquidrone. In Bones, he has to sell the idea that he's a "strange" man that wants to "fuck" you with his "big dick" before the "ground swallows me(him) whole" or the Mormons get to him. Whichever comes first.

He succeeds. He does sell it, thanks to the stripped-down, rough and tumble music that accompanies his voice. It also doesn't hurt that Miller works with four bass strings attached to a Flying V guitar. That has "bad-ass" written all over it.


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