PUSHY
HARD WISH

Have you ever watched the 1977 video of Ram Jam playing “Black Betty” in somebody’s front yard and asked yourself, “Why don’t we have bands who party like that anymore?” And after the very first time you witnessed a young bellbottomed James Gang set up their gear in the Mexicali desert and riff through “Laguna Salada” during the opening credits to the 1971 film Zachariah, did you ask yourself, “Are there even any bands this good today?” Or what about that time you laid virgin eyes upon the gatefold to ZZ Top’s Tres Hombres and took in a panoramic photograph that could only be described as a taqueria orgy? Did you ask, “Why can’t a newer style band make me feel this special?”
 
The answer to all these questions lives and pulses within the four musicians who comprise the Portland, Oregon based hard rock quartet, Pushy. If your ears have yet to be seduced by the God-hammered choogle of Pushy and their debut album Hard Wish, it’s not too late for you. If the hot buttered distortion of the opening song “Fanny’s” (with its saucy boogie and howling guitar leads) doesn’t put an electric strut in your butt, there’s a pretty good chance that rock ‘n’ roll may be none of your business.
 
John Fogerty once sang that the people on the river are happy to give. But if you listen closely to the hard and heavy stomp of “Nasty Bag,” it sounds like the people on the river are waiting to kill you. Pushy have the power of rock surging through their veins and sometimes this power channels stories and spirits to help move you into parallel dimensions. Take “El Hongo” for instance – between Ron Wesley coaxing a gold top Les Paul to scream and wail through a tweed Victoria Bassman, and Adam Burke crooning for us to take it easy and close our eyes, there could never exist a reason why we would ever want to not keep on chooglin’. And when Travis Clow and Neal Munson kick off the album’s bookend jam “Lay of the Land” with their callused hands working a well-oiled rhythm section, you can almost smell the grease burning on the gears as the bass and drums pump out a loose and juicy groove that’s just begging for the guitars to rain riffs like there’s a storm in hell and we’re all invited to hang out and drink their beer.