Howl - Nashville Pussy Does the Dog

During the early months of 1998, when Nashville Pussy’s Let Them Eat Pussy CD first rocked its evil way into my heart, I rang up the editor at a guitar rag I used to write for and asked if I could do a feature on ’em. After all, the band boasted a husband-and-wife guitar team steeped in the glories of early AC/DC, and a six-foot-somethin’ tattooed chick who played bass and breathed fire with equal degrees of enthusiasm. In other words, what’s not to love? “Oh, no,” my esteemed editor tittered. “I mean, I would be embarrassed to even say their name at our next editorial meeting!”

Two years on, Nashville Pussy is on just about everybody’s lips, thanks to tours with Marilyn Manson and Motorhead, and hundreds of incendiary one-nighters on their own; these days, most editors I know speak their name with a combination of awe and amusement. So what does this hard-touring, harder-living band do for an encore? It’s called High As Hell, and it’s pretty much Let Them Eat Pussy, Part II. Blaine Cartwright stills howls things like “We’re gonna piss all over your town!” while sounding like Bon Scott with a gullet full of Drano, Ruyter Suys still has her Chuck Berry–via–Angus Young licks down pat, and Corey Parks and Jeremy Thompson still do the backseat boogie with the best of ’em.

“Go to Hell,” a Skynyrdian ballad of revenge, finds Cartwright intoning the lines “Last night I caught my wife/Fuckin’ two of my friends/Smile on her face/A dick in each hand/Guilt running down her chin.” He blows them all away, then spends the rest of the song running from The Man. Ronnie Van Zant might have liked it like that.

Dan Epstein