The WoWz

The WoWz are a three-piece miscellaneous band from New York City who comb (and combine) the eternal dolor of Hank Williams Sr. with the perverse humor ofDavid Berman and the improbable harmonies of BEATLES FOR SALE. Since early 2004, they've recorded two full-length records and an EP.

They recorded their first LP, LONG GRAIN RIGHTS, in early 2004 at Balloon Heaven, an appalling dump of a Bensonhurst basement that has likewise captured the sounds of Adam Green, Herman Düne and Jeffrey Lewis. Released by NYC's Recommended if You Like Records, LONG GRAIN RIGHTS plays like a fermented solutionof powdered sugar and baking soda - a compound as addictive as picking your scalp.

After completing that album, S.T. Grossmark IV (guitar, bass, vocals), Simon Beins (guitars, vocals) and Johnny Dydo (drums, vocals) sought out the next basement they could find: Johnny's pop's laundry room in Yonkers. There, inspired by sawdust and commuters' fury, they continued to mutate, juxtaposing Sam and Simon's rebelliously cherubic voices with the electric flatulence of bass fuzz and the astonishingly ornithological indigestion of feedback.

In the meantime, The WoWz played frequent acoustic sets all over NYC and began to leave the subway long enough to play out of the city, hitching rides with pals like The Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players (Bar None), The Brunettes (Sub Pop), David-Ivar Herman Düne and Turner Cody.

In June 2004, The WoWz found yet another basement that would let them descend into it; and so they set up shop at Care-A-Lot Studios in Harlem and hastily recorded the 5-song NICOTINE BUBBLEGUM EP for Luv-A-Lot Records. Throughout the next year, The WoWz composed and recorded the soundtrack for Mosaic Films production KING CORN with producer Bo Ramsey, and released their next full-length, COOL DUMP (Luv-a-Lot), a reaming tower of questionable matter lovingly groped by some and exasperated by many.

Like LONG GRAIN RIGHTS and NICOTINE BUBBLEGUM, COOL DUMP finds the band at the outer reaches of quirkiness, poised to teeter upon the precipice (and prepuce) of advisable beauty until they all fall down... and perhaps only then, after we've read their wills, might we understand what that name of theirs means.