Citric Dummies - Lost In A Parking Garage 7"
Jeff Goldblum takes a deep breath and initiates the teleportation sequence, unaware that lurking in the corner of the telepod are three greasy eighth grade boys quoting their favorite lines from KIDS IN THE HALL sketches. The sequence initiates; a crack of static; a horrible flash of white hot light. Dramatically backlit and shrouded in fog, what emerges from the adjacent telepod is not so much man-child as teenage lobotomy. The camera jumps to a tight shot on the receding hairlines of three dumb assholes: “Look out world…” they whisper with an off-putting wink into the camera. “I’m eatin’ Arby’s.”
This is the CITRIC DUMMIES and that is a reference to their song lyrics! Yes, you do not have to ask: this shit is dumb. Lyrics like “I'm driving a piece of shit cuz I am a piece of shit” dumb. I hear fear in their voices: this is both a reference to Lee Ving’s phlegm and the fact this band is naked and lost in a parking garage, “A traffic cone used for modesty (It’s not a giant orange dick, you see)”. But unlike FEAR, this band does not hate you, for they are too busy hating themselves. “Fuck you!” you yell at them, and they know why.
When you see these Citric Dummies (and oh, you simply must!), you will notice their jackets—matching in satin, unique in color. A bassist in green satin, like a lime, and bald (not unlike a lime…). Guitarist? In lemon yellow; he has a regular amount of hair. And that drummer on the drums, the one with the most hair of all? Orange! What we have here is a band who visually tastes like an orange 7Up if such a dumb thing were a thing.
And this band plays: fast! Fuck! Live, it’s fast-as-fuck-oh-fuck-this-is-fast. DEAN DIRG is there playing fast, and THE HIVES, because we love the Hives and know their roots are of the same raw Swedish garage milieu as the HELLACOPTERS and HENRY FIAT’S OPEN SORE. “It’s too rock ‘n roll for hardcore, too hardcore for rock ‘n roll,” you may say (because you yourself may be dumb). Is this what is called…punk? Yes! That’s it! Maybe this is punk, you dumbass.
Oh no! I’ve forgotten the best part of all! You don’t have to just read about the Citric Dummies, you can hear the Citric Dummies. You can even have the Citric Dummies!—on a new 4-song 7” out on Feel It! And I forgot the other best part of all! They are soon touring Europe with Erik Nervous! THEY ARE SOON TOURING EUROPE WITH ERIK NERVOUS! So rock over London, and rock on Chicago, because Citric Dummies are a band from Minneapolis, and I don’t care who knows it!
-Brendan Wells, of the Minneapolis Uranium Club, fired from the MCAD art store after one day on the job because they found out he had once been caught shoplifting at a Hy-Vee.
Jeff Goldblum takes a deep breath and initiates the teleportation sequence, unaware that lurking in the corner of the telepod are three greasy eighth grade boys quoting their favorite lines from KIDS IN THE HALL sketches. The sequence initiates; a crack of static; a horrible flash of white hot light. Dramatically backlit and shrouded in fog, what emerges from the adjacent telepod is not so much man-child as teenage lobotomy. The camera jumps to a tight shot on the receding hairlines of three dumb assholes: “Look out world…” they whisper with an off-putting wink into the camera. “I’m eatin’ Arby’s.”
This is the CITRIC DUMMIES and that is a reference to their song lyrics! Yes, you do not have to ask: this shit is dumb. Lyrics like “I'm driving a piece of shit cuz I am a piece of shit” dumb. I hear fear in their voices: this is both a reference to Lee Ving’s phlegm and the fact this band is naked and lost in a parking garage, “A traffic cone used for modesty (It’s not a giant orange dick, you see)”. But unlike FEAR, this band does not hate you, for they are too busy hating themselves. “Fuck you!” you yell at them, and they know why.
When you see these Citric Dummies (and oh, you simply must!), you will notice their jackets—matching in satin, unique in color. A bassist in green satin, like a lime, and bald (not unlike a lime…). Guitarist? In lemon yellow; he has a regular amount of hair. And that drummer on the drums, the one with the most hair of all? Orange! What we have here is a band who visually tastes like an orange 7Up if such a dumb thing were a thing.
And this band plays: fast! Fuck! Live, it’s fast-as-fuck-oh-fuck-this-is-fast. DEAN DIRG is there playing fast, and THE HIVES, because we love the Hives and know their roots are of the same raw Swedish garage milieu as the HELLACOPTERS and HENRY FIAT’S OPEN SORE. “It’s too rock ‘n roll for hardcore, too hardcore for rock ‘n roll,” you may say (because you yourself may be dumb). Is this what is called…punk? Yes! That’s it! Maybe this is punk, you dumbass.
Oh no! I’ve forgotten the best part of all! You don’t have to just read about the Citric Dummies, you can hear the Citric Dummies. You can even have the Citric Dummies!—on a new 4-song 7” out on Feel It! And I forgot the other best part of all! They are soon touring Europe with Erik Nervous! THEY ARE SOON TOURING EUROPE WITH ERIK NERVOUS! So rock over London, and rock on Chicago, because Citric Dummies are a band from Minneapolis, and I don’t care who knows it!
-Brendan Wells, of the Minneapolis Uranium Club, fired from the MCAD art store after one day on the job because they found out he had once been caught shoplifting at a Hy-Vee.
Jeff Goldblum takes a deep breath and initiates the teleportation sequence, unaware that lurking in the corner of the telepod are three greasy eighth grade boys quoting their favorite lines from KIDS IN THE HALL sketches. The sequence initiates; a crack of static; a horrible flash of white hot light. Dramatically backlit and shrouded in fog, what emerges from the adjacent telepod is not so much man-child as teenage lobotomy. The camera jumps to a tight shot on the receding hairlines of three dumb assholes: “Look out world…” they whisper with an off-putting wink into the camera. “I’m eatin’ Arby’s.”
This is the CITRIC DUMMIES and that is a reference to their song lyrics! Yes, you do not have to ask: this shit is dumb. Lyrics like “I'm driving a piece of shit cuz I am a piece of shit” dumb. I hear fear in their voices: this is both a reference to Lee Ving’s phlegm and the fact this band is naked and lost in a parking garage, “A traffic cone used for modesty (It’s not a giant orange dick, you see)”. But unlike FEAR, this band does not hate you, for they are too busy hating themselves. “Fuck you!” you yell at them, and they know why.
When you see these Citric Dummies (and oh, you simply must!), you will notice their jackets—matching in satin, unique in color. A bassist in green satin, like a lime, and bald (not unlike a lime…). Guitarist? In lemon yellow; he has a regular amount of hair. And that drummer on the drums, the one with the most hair of all? Orange! What we have here is a band who visually tastes like an orange 7Up if such a dumb thing were a thing.
And this band plays: fast! Fuck! Live, it’s fast-as-fuck-oh-fuck-this-is-fast. DEAN DIRG is there playing fast, and THE HIVES, because we love the Hives and know their roots are of the same raw Swedish garage milieu as the HELLACOPTERS and HENRY FIAT’S OPEN SORE. “It’s too rock ‘n roll for hardcore, too hardcore for rock ‘n roll,” you may say (because you yourself may be dumb). Is this what is called…punk? Yes! That’s it! Maybe this is punk, you dumbass.
Oh no! I’ve forgotten the best part of all! You don’t have to just read about the Citric Dummies, you can hear the Citric Dummies. You can even have the Citric Dummies!—on a new 4-song 7” out on Feel It! And I forgot the other best part of all! They are soon touring Europe with Erik Nervous! THEY ARE SOON TOURING EUROPE WITH ERIK NERVOUS! So rock over London, and rock on Chicago, because Citric Dummies are a band from Minneapolis, and I don’t care who knows it!
-Brendan Wells, of the Minneapolis Uranium Club, fired from the MCAD art store after one day on the job because they found out he had once been caught shoplifting at a Hy-Vee.