Slithering out from underneath the bottom of a garbage can come the Ka-Nives, a trio of local rejects with rap sheets that include concurrent or completed sentences in the Jewws, the Fighting Type and Mystery Men. When not engaged in their hobbies of recycling beer cans and drilling glory holes in the partitions of men's room stalls, they gather to annoy the foolhardy with their Falstaff-fueled bare-bones Tinker Toylike clatter. Like a lower-fi version of any one of Thee Billy Childish's projects, they aren't afraid to steal a lick here and there and funnel it through their barely competent hands. Expect plenty of one-liners from chief wisenheimer/drummer Matt Murillo while the rest of the band pauses to tune up in a key known only to themselves and Guitar Wolf. Since it's rare that they can convince a venue owner to let them pollute a room with their off-the-wall ruckus and simultaneously have their instruments out of hock, this is truly a momentous occasion. BYOB.
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