Barleyjuice

We were only scuffling down the road one day - the road being in County Bucks near the high city of Philadelic, and one of us - aye can't remember who now - pulls out a bag o' pipes and starts playing music like. Wow, say the others, we had no idea you could wail them things, let alone carry em around without us noticing em, to which the person whom aye can't remember of us says yeah, nether did aye but well look at me. And lo, the angel of the gourd come down and says yo, boy, this what you just done sounds damn good.
So we were all soon filled with wonder and begat to wonder if this wasn't one o' them Signs o' God that you read about. Well aye do, anyway, so aye pipes up and says Hey, I'm all try this. And aye does and Lo and Behave, out from nowhere (practically) pops an aged set of them Pipes and aye goes and plays and it sound dreadful-like and the other of us (who aye remember now was the one they call Swami) says Well look now then, let me show you how I done it before you kill someone.
And so he does, and then aye do, and soon we turn around and the other ones of us are picking up chaff off the side of the road and making music with it. Some of it being filthy and all and so we called it tradiginal neobilly brit-scot-sham rock. And so Mary Mack, (being grape with child anyway) did that day bear a new tradiginal rock sensation in the form of a lowly whisky and did call it the Barelyjuiced. And let me tell y'all it's been some good shit.
and well there ye go.



Barleyjuice and Scythian jamming
at Green Lane, September '08