Wavves, King Tuff
2125 Chestnut Street
Philadelphia, PA, 19103
Doors 7:30 PM / Show 8:00 PM
This event is all ages
Wavves is an American noise pop/surf punk band based in San Diego, California. Wavves started in 2008 as the recording project of Nathan Williams. Wavves released several 7″s as well as a cassette leading up to the first two releases Wavves (Woodsist) and Wavvves (Fat Possum/Bella Union). After gaining recognition Ryan Ulsh was enlisted as a touring drummer and Wavves did the first US and European tours. Wavves released their self-titled debut album in 2008, subsequently drawing the attention of Pitchfork Media. At the time, the band consisted of guitarist Nathan Williams and drummer Ryan Ulsh.
King Tuff’s new record is called Black Moon Spell.
It was produced and recorded by Bobby Harlow at Studio B in Los Angeles, California, in the hot winter of 2014.
No one involved was prepared to make a record, but an invisible hand pushed them to do it. Perhaps it was God or
that special someone we all know and love called The Devil.
God and The Devil actually have very similar interests. They both love electric guitars and they both want you to
listen to Black Moon Spell and freak the fuck out.
There were many strange occurrences during the recording session- Dracula landlords, flashes of mysterious light,
haunted microphones, songs that mixed themselves, demonic vortexes swirling in coffee cups, etc.
Under the Black Moon Spell you may experience euphoria, demented visions, wet dreams, bouts of backwards
laughter, and dazed confusion resulting in primordial dancing.
Fire played a very important role in the making of this album. King Tuff loves fire.
For some reason, no one can really explain how the Black Moon Spell came to be. It just appeared one day and
demanded heavy rock music and meatball subs.
Backwards messages may be found on this record.
Los Angeles, full of its screaming coyotes and creeping helicopters, surely slathered its sexy, twisted, hairy, polluted
spirit all over Black Moon Spell. The Sunset Strip shat itself when it heard all these guitar solos.
A lot of people always ask King Tuff when he’s gonna put out a new record. The answer is September 23, 2014.
Can you feel the Black Moon Spell creeping up the back of yr neck yet?
King Tuff would prefer not to tell you the full story of making this record because its long and crazy and you wouldn’t
believe him anyway. Also, I am King Tuff.
Magic Jake, who played bass and is beautiful like sunshine, would like to take this moment to give you a hug and
invite you to a tanning party on a beach of your choice.
Old Gary, who plays drums and has the most glorious cackle, would like to take this moment to crack a cold one with
you and invite you to watch the old ballgame with him.
Old Gary was out watching the old ballgame, so a wild critter named Ty Segall played drums on the song “Black
Moon Spell”. Ty enjoys speaking in a goblin voice in his spare time.
Night fell on Studio B. A Tarot card leapt from the deck and said, “No human judgement is of any value here.” King
Sub Pop first discovered King Tuff curled up in his palace in Vermont. It was basically a shit hut made of moss, mud,
and glimmering stones hidden near the graveyard, and it was guarded by beautiful wild bullfrogs with silver fangs and
Punx, Squares, Skaters, Farmers, Bartenders, Grandparents, Stoners, Carpenters, Hobos, Heshers, Babes, Babies,
Plumbers, Strippers, Art Teachers, Teenagers, Townies, Moms, Dads, Truck Drivers, and Witches will all love this
Every song on Black Moon Spell was written without giving a shining fuck about nothing.
Listen to Black Moon Spell, turn yr volume knob up to 666, put yr lover in a 69, and let yr inner grinagog rear it’s
wicked, unwashed, smiling snake head.
Listen to Black Moon Spell and give yr ears what they’ve been begging for all year; a heavily weird, heavenly dark,
hysterically magical Rock & Roll Sexperience.
ps. the only part of this story that isn’t true is the part about the shit hut. I actually was living at my parents house
when i was discovered. Love, KT
The year, 2007. The Boys, Jacuzzi. Hatched inside a vulture’s nest, Jacuzzi Boys emerged from deep within the Florida wilds, three radioactive chicks cawing for their piece of electric rock pie.
With No Seasons (Florida’s Dying) they freaked their way through the swamps, a psycho stomp of a record, all hallucinations and hand claps. Glazin’ (Hardly Art) found a more polished sound. They installed AC units inside their mobile homes, found a way to turn neon into ice cubes. Now, with their third full-length, the self-titled Jacuzzi Boys, they’re going grand, building limestone monuments to those that boogied before them, while writing hypnotic ear worms by the light of a cigarette. Gone is the swamp-thing snarl. In it’s place, the indestructible cool of the casino slot-jockey with nothing to lose.
Recorded at Key Club Recording Co. in Benton Harbor, Michigan—same as 2010’s Glazin’—the new record takes full advantage of expert engineers Bill Skibbe and Jessica Ruffins’ sonic sandlot, with Kramer in charge of mastering. The end result? A smashing set of tunes as dazzling as a sparkler.
It’s like that movie you once saw. The one with the boy and the girl and the plastic lounger on the beach. “Be My Prism” was the invitation. “Black Gloves” and “Double Vision” the promise. “Dust” was the rising tide. “Rubble,” the dirty uncle. “Hotline” was the lightning storm, and “Ultraglide” was the ending, the part where he drove her home with the windows down.
You remember you liked it.
It stayed with you while you swam alone in your pool that night.