This little ditty is courtesy of Darren Barefoot’s facebook wall (thanks Darren!). Kinda puts all our “first world problems” in perspective. Short, punchy and ironic. I love it.
Who are you?
We’re Erik’s Dudes – the last word in country-crossover-hip-hop-death-metal-punk-bluegrass-pop music. Our membership is as diverse as it is talented and cutting-edge. Here’s the band:
Erik Finnsson – drums and, well, they aren’t so much “vocals” as they are “angry yelling about how the band isn’t ‘keeping it real’ enough. [Editor's note: the plan is for the band to break up for a few months after Erik goes on a saucy bender, lands in rehab and then explores being born again. Stay tuned!].
Jon Cherry – tambourine and some triangle. Yup. That’s it.
Jim Clifford – bass; fun fact, during Erik’s rehab-hiatus, Jim will release a critically acclaimed three-disc solo album called Straight Pluckin’ with Jim Clifford – it will revolutionize everything.
Kurt Heinrich – vocals and free-stylin’.
John Horn – guitar and vocals.
Erik’s Dudes’s first album, which sold 10 million copies in 17 days, is called Country Road Drivin’. It includes the hit single, “Country Road Drivin’,” as well as some soon-to-be classics, such as “Raccoon Sex Machine” and “Ode to the Sun (I hate You).”
What do you do for fun?
Change the world by writing and performing the most diverse range of musical offerings since Hawksley Workman’s rap collaboration with Joaquin Phoenix. Erik and Kurt also like paintball. Jon Cherry dabbles in medicine and exchanges letters with John Horn. And Jim, well, he thinks.
What is your favourite community and why?
The country. Because it’s real.
What is your superpower?
As a group, it’s our uncanny ability to excel at playing any and every type of music. Have you every heard of death-metal-reggae? No? Well you will when we release our new single, “Spliff with the Devil”. No band out there can roll smoothly from a hip hop track to a 47 minute long bass solo to an angry heavy metal rant about the power of the Sun. Not even Coldplay.
Individually, here are the band’s superpowers:
Erik – dancing.
Jon Cherry – sustained and uncompromising seriousness at all times.
Jim Clifford – thinking.
Kurt Heinrich – ability to consume more butter in a 24 hour period than any other human in the galaxy.
John Horn – haiku poetry.
How do you use it to build community?
If a seriously thoughtful dinner party that involves buttery dancing and poems doesn’t build community then what the heck does?
Our Three Favourite Things About Erik’s Dudes Are…
1. Erik. Through the tantrums, binges, mis-timed drumming, and the thousands of ladies who keep throwing themselves at his taught, young adult body, there is a good soul and a positive force of humanity at the core. Sure, he causes a lot of trouble and tumult for the band, but there wouldn’t be any Erik’s Dudes without Erik. Or, if there was it would be pretty weird.
2. They’re real. Some of you might think that this is a joke and just a way for the Daily Gumboot team to fill a spot on a Thanksgiving Sunday, but that’s not the case. These guys are a real band with real songs and real instruments that they really play. Really.
3. How diverse the songs are. The critics talk about the big, swingin’ differences between, say, a soulful ballad like “Country Road Drivin’” and a fast-paced pop song like “Superawesome Ninja Cool Sex Water Fight” and a politically charged protest song like “High Fructose Corn Syrup” because no one else has the balls to put such different, diverse music on the same album at the same time. It’s what makes this band a creative legend in the making.
- As told by Rolling Stone* magazine
*actually told by John and Kurt as some Thanksgiving filler…
(If you’re a returning Gumboot reader, you’ll know that me and editor Kurt Heinrich just got back from a trip to Oregon and the U-S of A. If this is your first time reading the Gumboot – good for you.)
2Pac changed my life. Well — not really. I’m being dramatic. It’s more like he changed the pace of my life, or rather, he’s become a reminder that I need slow things down just a little. Allow me to explain. A’ight?
It was the second day of our trip and Kurt was driving towards the Oregon/Washington border. Being the totally accommodating and flexible person I am (shall we debate this point, Kurt?) I handed over full control of the car stereo. He was, after all, the one doing the driving. We were two people with nothing but the horizon and Oregonian breweries in our sights and 2Pac on the stereo – we had our mind on the money and our money on the mind – or was that Biggie Smalls?
Kurt was driving the speed limit along the 101 just outside of Olympia with none other than 2Pac singing ‘his pain’ on the stereo when an under-cover, Washington state-trooper driving the other direction pulled a U-turn and started tailing us. Kurt’s palms were sweaty, knees weak, arms were heavy, there’s vomit on his sweater already, mom’s spaghetti… wait a minute….
Lets just say he was totally freaked. We were both freaked. I mean, what other reason would the trooper have to follow us other than to pull us over? Were we speeding? No. Were we up to no good because we were listening to 2Pac and “his pain?” U.S. state troopers aren’t like our run-of-the-mill highway patrol (a league of men and women I almost never see, in this country.) State troopers wait with bated breath to catch you pulling 60 in a 50 zone — especially in Oregon. It’s how they make up for the fact they don’t have a sales tax. State troopers along the Washington/Oregon border have a reputation and not for a moment did we even consider that our predicament would be the exception.
Thankfully, our Deus Ex Machina came in the form of a speeding car, traveling the other way, over the crest of a hill. The trooper hit his lights and turned around, following our god machine the other way. What a save — it felt like fate had stepped in and spared us the cost of several dinners out and brews-on-tap — our vacation was saved by a red Toyota driving the other way! Our relief was slightly delayed because we thought the flashing lights and siren were for us. By the time we realized we were in the safe, the trooper was already chasing the other car and we were well on our way towards Oregon. We both calmed down and returned to 2Pac, whose metre and verse is now a reminder for me to take it nice and slow: “best be prepared for the Outlawz, here we come.”
Thank you 2Pac.