Gay Paris

Gay Paris


The bio intro says it all!

Southern rock is all well and good, but these dudes bring the Southern Horror. Want tame cliches about whiskey and women? Take a hike, brother/sister, take a long hike, get lost andcome crawling back, then maybe you'll get it.



W.H Monks – Vocals
Slim Pickins Podmore – Bass Guitar
Six Guns – Drums
Ol’ Blacktooth Marks - Guitars

A couple years ago, Gay Paris’ frontman, WH was talking about putting the Devil in a red dress and making God dance with him. Switch to present day and it’s more than diametrically opposed divine beings that are getting the shakes when the foursome hits town.

It’s not easy, being Gay Paris; headline acts complain “they’re too loud, they’re too flamboyant, they’re too much...” – on tour with The Beards, bassist Slim Pickins and WH shamed their tourmates by representing with the most glorious red beards this side of folkloric Scotland. Where do you put a band that can go blue note for blue note with The Snowdroppers and then tear the roof off The Metro Theatre before Karnivool get a chance to? The answer is simple: you don’t put Gay Paris anywhere – they come and go as they please.

In between the swamp stompin’, funk shack shakin’ and often death defying spectacle that is Gay Paris on tour, the four gentlemen (and we use the term very loosely) have found the time to record an album of rough and ready songs that while heavier than free will are so full of rotgut spirit that they’ll have you doing the drowned man boogaloo in no time at all.

Check out what less articulate (okay, less egocentric and downright self involved) folk have been saying about the guys when they can get a word in between Slim and WH’s constant stream of self congratulatory bullshit:

“If Sabbath was injected like cortisone into Tom Waits’ rump then Gay Paris is what he would barf!”
Johnny Wishbone – The Snowdroppers

“Hello Waits-ian drawl! As tight as this kind of debauchery gets. Nice dynamics. Sung while gargling whiskey or something.” Stephanie Hughes – Triple J

“Their faux-hickery seems too action-packed and tight to sustain the illusion of three-thumbed stumbling log-cabin hijinks, but it pays dividends to pretend otherwise and turn it up.”

“If you don’t like it, you still can’t argue with it.”
-- Drum Media

“With Gay Paris being all that anyone has been talking about, it’s good to see them deliver... more like going to the theatre than watching a band.” Renegades Empire Magazine

With Winter about to take a hike, Sydney’s Gay Paris are ready to hit the road again and enjoy the world’s general state of disrobement in their own special ways; anyone who comes out of Ol’ Black Tooth Marks’ devilish solos without grime covering their souls must have been soulless to start with and luckily, the act’s first single, My First Wife? She Was A Fox Queen has TWO solos. Yes, it’s excessive, but it also hits you with the three Ds. Dance. Dirt. Danger. The beer flowed. The cameras rolled. See the video here:

If Slim Pickins and Smokin’ D Wain can stay outta legal trouble for long enough (yeah, we have a gambler and a contrabandistor here, but we’ll let you figure out which is which), Gay Paris will be back on the wagon and out on road this year in support of their debut album, The Skeleton’s Problematic Granddaughter.