SCOTS

Yeah, more embarrassment for me: I’ve recently grown this terrible affinity for SCOTS: Southern Culture on the Skids.

Couple the manic riffs of psychobilly punk with the homey romance of microwaved meals and trailer parks, and you’re really close to the sounds I’m talking about. Of course, then you have to take a sharp left at Pumpkin Center, Alabama, drive through forty miles of dirt roads, and bash your head with bricks a few times.

Yes, this music did reduce Kelli into a quivering pulpy mess. My work here is done.