Artimus Pyledriver: FUCK YES!

Artimus Pyledriver: Dave-Vocals. Jim-Guitar. Mike-Bass. Travis-Drums. Damon-Guitar.

Barbara Fara
Editor-In-Chief
Music Incider Magazine

Here is my absolute fucking pick for the next signing out of Atlanta. They should be on American or SPV-they need to be on a label rooted on the cutting edge, absolutely. -Why? Let's look at the fucking sound man-Skynyrd meets Slipknot on an assload of crack. Pyledriver is hot as hell, they don't sound like fucking EVERYBODY else-and the influences that you hear aren't so fucking strong as to make them one thing are the other-they are original. -Pyledriver pulls its own crowd with a high voltage, kick ass live show. Dave on vocals does this high jump split thing while drinking a fucking beer. He gets so high up and does it so fucking fast that it is almost impossible to catch on camera. Dave has this gritty growl that has crawled up from hell in the Masquerade in wormed its way into my heart. His vocals? Waylon Jennings, Corey Taylor, Phil Anselmo, -high voltage, hardcore, and southern. Unique. As much as I love Saliva, there is no way in hell to tell the motherfuckers are from Memphis Tennessee. Their accents have been produced right the fuck out of their music. -The guitars switch off between Jim and Damon. There isn't a fucking solo hog in the group-and every one is fantastic. Look carefully, you will find Gary Rossington's autograph on a guitar. I especially love the fact that Jim, Mike, and Damon can TWO-STEP while playing some of the hardest fucking riffs I have ever heard. -Dave is the frontman, totally-but everybody in this band performs all the time. Look at Travis, the drummer, -I love a drummer with a big fucking smile on his face as he is kicking ass. -They were good enough for Hank III to take them out on the leg of his Southeast tour. They were the opening band for Stuck Mojo at the Masquerade. HOT HOT HOT. With the right label, that would allow this band to retain creative control, Pyledriver would be a major national and Ozzfest, which once again is IGNORING Atlanta, would beg them to take the stage much in the same way that Atlanta natives MASTODON have been doing this summer. -Everybody is looking for the next MASTODON. We already have a MASTODON, and they are already Atlanta Rock Royalty. My vote is for ARTIMUS PYLEDRIVER to rise up out of the south. Seriously, they could be as big as Lynyrd Skynyrd if they were allowed to retain creative control. They are totally fucking smoking hot and could take they country by storm. -I have a vision of the rest of the United States signing The Dixie Fight Song and loving it. -With country bands like Cross Canadian Ragweed crossing over and hitting it so fucking hot, now is the time for you to hear and fucking experience Artimus Pyledriver.

"We are Artimus Pyledriver and our music is about four things-being from the south, fucking, fishing, and people that fucking suck." -Dave Slocum, Vocals-Artimus Pyledriver.


LYRICS-artimuspyledriver.com

Dixie Fight Song

I learned to swim in a river
My Daddy taught me to fish
When I get down, I drank that ol' whiskey
Best believe all them fools seein' how I live
I'm grown, and own a new mantra
Sun set another day for me to bleed
I guess I'll keep on a runnin
Beats the fuck outta watchin
The hard-headed breed
Well lemme tell ya friends
We're burnin through the night again
I feel the change, it cant be long
Ahh Hell
The Dixie fight song


Dirt Road White Girl

Done found myself a lady
She treat me just so fine
When I get home at night from workin
She rub me down, let me unwind
(chorus)
She's my dirt road white girl, roots and all
Come on baby doll, just gimme a call
She's my dirt road white girl, all I need
Down with her man, that's fine with me
Gonnna find a way
To make her all mine
Four wheels on my pickup truck
Pumpin texas boogie be just fine
(chorus)

High Life

Well I feel it on a friday
Lord its creepin up deep inside
Now when I think about the high life
And how we lost our mind
It's not the feelin of a chemical
Oh she still do me real good
It's a beautiful experience
When we hit the woods
(chorus)
Back into the high life
Get back, get back (2x)
Got a cooler and a green bag
A tent built for two
Ol lady and my good friends
Gettin high in that dew
Way down by the river bank
Catch the action of the day
Everybody feelin alright
Rollin with the waves
(chorus)
Well wind is a rushin
Lord, ol sun's goin down
Back into the clearin
Gonna pass a few around
Got a transistorradio
Gonna be here a while
Raisin hell in the darkness
No one for a country mile
(chorus)

Swamp Devil

Rollin down the highway
Crossin 5 county line
Big block chevy, Lord can't save me
Gonna have myself a time
Poppin that switch, hit nitrus
Burn an engine on this ride
Fuck doin 50, passin 120
Gonna bury that ol red line
(chorus)
Swamp devil, she a helluva machine
Straight'n curves like the General Lee
Aint nothin gonna stop that hellride
On a dark night, ya hear her scream
Well I done tripped out on fuzz rock
Gonna get high as hell
Four on the floor, gimme a little more
Gotta get up outta here
Meet me down in Macon
Gotta a case of homemade wine
Pour me a swig, time to get big
Shit'll make ya go half blind
(chorus)
Three more stops to make, yeah
Johnny law gettin hot on tail
Lord can't save me
Burnin up the pavement
Gotta roll on outta here
Ride out in that sunset
Aint got a goddamn place to be
Ol dog and my woman, gotta get along
Last y'all see of me
(chorus)

Up The Creek

Black water, lord dont ya scare me
I embrace all the tranquility
Night fishin under the southern sky
I feel the north wind
I hear the earth sigh
White lightin, drink of the southern man
Lord know's I never get enough of them
Be hard pressed to find a workin man
Livin for his time, well he's goddamned
(chorus)
Gone up the creek
Y'all aint gonna find me
I be by myself
I live for no one else
My footsteps of vindication, my life bleeds stimulation
My soul, is the driving force, of these limited times
I make this life mine
Feel the water rush, I feel the moon rise
Cast the line, look up into the sky
Isolated from the chains of modern man
Look at your life, son
Its a fuckin sham
(chorus)
(Repeat 1st verse)

About this Article

This article was written by Barbara Fara and is identified as Article #391.
Related website(s): http://www.artimuspyledriver.com
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