The Footwashin' Rock Baker

Rockie Bee's been on the job since 1995, playing the sorts of places you'd expect for a guy with a gruff delivery, a surly disposition, and a callous disregard for commonly accepted definitions of 'taste' and 'vulgarity.' The audiences? We're talking hooks for hands, massive goiters, human torsos, the gender-elastic, and weaselly fellows in the corners casting furtive glances to the doors and winders. It's been Tin Pan Alley -- the Roughest Place In Town -- for ol' Rock Baker, with occasional sidelong detours into the world of the 'hip, downtown bohemian,' usually as the guest of some well-respected benefactor, as a second banana to some Genuinely Talented Up-And-Comer, or a general lapse in judgment on the part of some ill-informed gatekeeper. Transformed from a Doughy-Headed Dreamer to an Arrogant Bad-Ass, the Footwashin' Rock Baker has collected a hypothalamus' worth of songs pulled out of the world's creepy and weird bolt-holes and and filtered them through a lightning accompaniment of solo guitar and gnarled baritone vocal stylings...