Double Breasted

Hello, Hep Cats and Chill Chicks.... this is The Unvarnished Truth -- the blog that asks the question. Yep... that's about all it does.


Last week, our travels took us two times to Red Deer, Alberta. A double-header at a corporate event on Monday and the local legend that is Fratters Speakeasy on the Saturday prior.


Steampunk mussels? We flex those every show


We're as excited as giddy school girls here at Punch Drunk Central as our third album unofficially dropped (as the youngsters say) and with that came a new look for the band to accompany new tunes as well as new adventures in rock for the spring/summer of 2016.



New Look (aka Hats, Spats and Virgin Cravats)


With every new modicum of music released, one must also release --  or unleash as the case may be -- a new look. With fresh tunes come fresh threads! You can expect the same attention to dapper detail as we mock the face of conventional fashion... as well as the faces of critics, evildoers and general enemies of rock 'n' roll.


BRB: new whites, bowler & suspendies                                           Cap't Sean E. Watts: new duds AND drums


As we took to the stage at Fratters, it was evident thru the course of the usual, high octane PDC performance that mine was too small. My outfit, that is. Just a wee bit snug for the kind of energy and machismo I naturally exude from the stage.... either that or the ravages of age and drink are finally catching up to me. No matter what First World rocker's problem, one must work these things out. Or perhaps let things out. (Editor's Note: Is your haberdasher on call?)

This was also my first time wearing a cravat. I highly doubt that 18th Century, cravat-wearing English gentlemen could put as much physical effort into an electrified, traveling rock show as we do.... lack of electricity, especially, being a small concern back then. Nonetheless, certain fashion accoutrements don't necessarily mesh with your typical lusty delivery of PDC music. Cravats being one of them. At least with a necktie, one can run around the stage all higgledy-piggledy without fear of unwanted loosening, flip-flapping or other social embarrassment. Cravats, on the other hand, are like women.... beautiful to behold and if you don't treat them just right they make you look stupid.  

Sawbones: Gentlemen.... always treat your cravat right 



New Record (...the Recording, Not the Guinness)


Officially, y'all can expect to pick up the musical equivalent of new car smell, Electrik Steam Show, in multiple quantities during May and beyond. Buy one for the kids, too. It'll put them on the road to rock 'n' roll rebellion and tasteful fashion in no time... and it makes a swell gift!



This year, if you attend a Punch Drunk Cabaret live event, you'll hear a veritable mishmash of melodies from the new opus, a smattering of sentimental favorites of yore and the occasional oddity that we throw in to keep you on your toes (and on the dance floor). Curious now, aren'tcha? Well then, dear reader, feel free to avail yourself to copies of this historical musical undertaking by attending a show! Or you could pick one up very soon thru our website or or iTunes or breaking into my house, delivering a concussive blow to the head in my sleep and stealing one. (Editor's Note: Do NOT encourage this.



He's Got The Power


Although Fratters is a self-proclaimed "speakeasy", it's also a fine, fine kitchen (may I recommend the deep-fried pickles.... will change your life). But I assumed that because of the moniker's pedigree that only full consenting adults could haunt it's hallowed halls of liquid sin & repute. No sir.... proof of that was the attendance of one small child who happens to love the band for reasons still perplexing. Kevin's mother seems to dig us, too, and both were checked off on the night's unspoken roll call.The thing about young Kevin is his knack for charming the ladies. Time and time again, I witnessed (with jaw agape, I'll have you know) his convincing of the fairer sex to get on the dance floor with him. In this sense and in one evening, this precocious child (what is he.... all of ten?????) scored more than I have my entire adult life. Suffice it to say that your ol' Sawbones stands in awe of the young man's lothario-like lure. He has no idea at this tender age of the flourishing power he has over the XX chromosome..... or does he?

(l to r) Two ladies succumbing to the charms of a lotharian youngster






As a professional minstrel, one must assess any given venue with the eye of a hawk in order to decide when & where one must rock. Other than the stage itself. Bandmeister Randy B is a master at this. Challenging potential calamity, he has managed to avoid the aforementioned every time. Those in attendance this night were witness to BRB's precarious disregard for physics by perching himself atop an unstable surface in order to bring entertainment and joy to the masses. As evidenced by the following photograph, the Bandmeister channeled the spirit of a Flying Wallenda and dared fly in the face of a faulty fulcrum! And not one musical note was sacrificed, ladies & gentlemen..... not that I noticed anyway. I was too busy being envious of that damned kid.

BRB rockin' the house. Balance be damned 


PS (Punch Shrunken Head and Other Random Photographic Souvenirs)


Shrunken Head Guy overseeing the Capt's' new kit


A tender moment between bandmates


Another contractual photographic obligation courtesy of Sawbones' ego



Apres Vous


The night would not have gone smoother if it weren't for the following Punch Drunks:

The Wrench aka Cousin Craig who helped with loading gear, unloading same and regaling us with tales of Red Deer derring-do.

Amie A for ably (wo)manning the precious lifeblood of bands known as merch.

All incredible pics by the ever-foreboding talents of Papa Razzo. All not-so-incredible ones by Sawbones.

YOU.... for reading this tripe.


And that's the unvarnished truth.