WEIRD WOMB
Years ago four teenagers left Tucson for good.
The childhood friends liked punk, metal, and trouble, but the myth of the West was tough on the young dedicated to raw power music. None of them wanted to end up like Fred, a demented guru of anti-social behavior. Arizona had a funny way of making happy endings a very bad movie.
One by one they drifted north to New York.
There was no overnight success.
Dakota Pollock, Johnny Saczho, and Eric Reeves brought their guitars. Eric Parisi bought drums. Together the exiles from the demented desert of suburbs forged their music in the crucible of infamy through a devotion to the MC5, Love, and countless blasts of the past, present, and future from phantom radio stations south of the border.
Dakota came up with a name.
Weird Womb.
They were nobodies. They played shows to no one. Humiliation and embarrassment tested Weird Womb’s endurance.
Tucson was calling. They weren’t answering the phone.
The friends ignored any temptation to follow the pack and dug their rut deeper to strike the vein of a high-strung groove.
Endless hours of rehearsal rewarded Weird Womb with a tight onstage persona of a band seeking the enlightenment of oblivion, as the four friends reincarnated the sonic soul of rebellion within a solid wall of guitars, bass, and drums topped by their frontman Dakota Pollock singing TANNED TITS, UNDER MY SCUM and PALE PISS.
“Weird Womb is a live band. They perform before audiences large and small. Their recordings mirror a slavish devotion to torch the decay of rock. They don’t suck.” – - Peter Nolan Smith
