The Raunch & Riot Of The CRAZY SQUEEZE: A Euro Tour Report by Sir Frankie Delmane

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Fanzines, bloody hell ! It´s almost nine months ago now that I´ve tried multiple times at and at various resources to find a warm and cozy paper issue place for this CRAZY SQUEEZE tour report by Sir Frankie Delmane to creep in and be taken care of just to splendidly run aground.
Either I got offered the page space of a shopping list (if you don´t buy more than a piece of cheese and just a little salami) or I´ve been informed about guest writers not being asked for, sometimes I even got no answer at all or things just didn´t get sorted out the right way.
Nevertheless I still think that this tour report should be seen and read as it is perfectly echoing the passion and enthusiasm of the CRAZY SQUEEZE on stage. That “Glorious Pub Junk Glam’n’Roll providing you a rare and special kind of bliss only comparable to being laid to rest in the cuddly womb of a wet five dollar whore.” is really dripping out of every single letter noted down here.
As the CRAZY SQUEEZE have just released their “To The Lonely Ones / Red Rosie” 7inch on Pure Punk and will be coming back to Europe this autumn, I thought that this report may be a fine taster for all the undecided to be discipulized into unrestrained outta control CRAZY SQUEEZE junkies with, even despite such dumb and childish things like actuality.
Last but not least a million thanks to Frankie for his work writing this !

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The Crazy Squeeze- the proverbially postmodern pub rock masterpiece, took our show on the road this past November, bringing our brand of direct hit hooks- a sonic hybrid of our musical heroes from The Boys UK, Little Bob Story, Heartbreakers, Eddie & The Hot Rods, Stooges, Chuck Berry and Little Richard- merged with subtle hints of R&B, Soul, hillbilly music, and some shots of noise for anarchistic fullness- to towns across Europe, in an effort to entertain and galvanize those interested in having a momentary fling with catharsis, transcendence, and the overall need to get drunk, stupid, and sloppy. Three and a half weeks of nightly debauchery, debasement, and self-destruction seemed to lead the way, as we crawled and scrapped through language barriers, dietary challenges, traffic transgressions, and the general quest for some sort of avoidance of our everyday lives back home in Angry America. We were well-oiled, ready, packed and pleased to be going places few of us have been, some of us have seen many times, yet all would count as new adventures for a lifetime.
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