Turbo Fruits, Wooly Bullies (Cleveland) and Dirty Biscuits (Columbus) perform at Ace of Cups on Friday night. Doors at 9, $5 cover.
Jonas Stein got his start in the music biz as a guitarist in Be Your Own Pet, a noisy, indie rock band made up of Nashville teenagers. As a kid with a head full of music ideas, Stein started Turbo Fruits as a side project and then made it his full-time gig once BYOP disbanded in 2008.
Earlier this month, Turbo Fruits released their third album, Butter, featuring the killer opening track, “Where the Stars Don’t Shine”.
Before kicking off the Butter tour, Stein answered some questions I sent him via email.
Turbo Fruits is often called a “garage rock” band. Have you ever actually practiced, recorded or performed in a garage?
Hmmm we don’t generally practice in a garage nor do we record in a garage but yes we have played many garages and garage-type places! We love playin shows like that when the time is right!
I read a review where somebody said, “Turbo Fruits are what Kings of Leon would sound like had their dad worked in a liquor store rather than been a traveling preacher.” (Okay, I didn’t really read that – it’s how I described your sound to a friend recently). I know your dad is connected to the music biz. Did his record collection have any influence on you or did you discover music through friends/siblings/on your own?
Nice description! My Paps was pretty involved in the country music business while growing up. My influences came from a totally different direction. My older brother, Adam (RIP), gave me my first albums when I was 11 or 12 – Led Zeppelin II and some Bob Marley album. That definitely had an influence on my musical tastes. I grew up a musical outcast amongst a lot of my friends. They were always listening to Blink 182 and Sum 41 and other shit that I couldn’t get into. I was always like “this shit sucks! let’s listen to some fucking rock n roll!” Continue reading →
Nashville-based Turbo Fruits (led by ex-Be Your Own Pet member Jonas Stein) are currently cruising all over the country opening for Surfer Blood. Turbo Fruits will be playing a handful of times at SXSW, including the Panache Showcase.
You can download three songs here and follow their shenanigans on their Turbo Blog.
I keep saying this is a great year for music, and it is, and some of the reviews below continue to reflect that fact, but some of them merely showcase solidly average offerings. And one review is of a disc I really wish the artist could recall since it sullies my fond memories of their earlier efforts. Anyway, onwards.
Be Your Own Pet – Get Damaged EP
Seriously? these songs were banned from the American release of their last album? Doesn’t that make total sense for a Major in these parts? I can just see the boardroom discussion: “Well, there’s these three songs, and they’re really catchy, maybe the best three songs on the album, but the lyrics seem a little scary. They’re about girls punching other girls and stuff like that. I mean if it was about Hos and Bros, or date rape, or getting drunk and getting it on I would be totally down with that, but this chick that’s singing sounds mean. That sort of scares me, so let’s take these songs off the album, O.K.?”
Mudcrutch – Mudcrutch
Tom Petty revives his first band to record the album they never got around to making. Is it the most rockin’-est, swingin’-est Petty has recorded in years? You bet it is! Is it exciting and interesting to listen to? With the exception o “Lover On The Bayou” you bet it ain’t. It’s kind of like if Uncle Tupelo had waited until after Anodyne to record No Depression. For fans only.
Human Highway – Moody Motorcycle
The dude from Islands mines his inner country indie-pop muse and comes back with an album of enjoyable, if slightly slight, tunes. Whispered vocals, sharply mellow beats, and minimal instrumententation mark the majority of the tunes. In fact, as the album went on I started to think generic cialis fast shipping of the band as being sonically akin to a laid back version of Fountains Of Wayne. If that sounds up your alley, check ‘em out.