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I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House | Creepy Little Noises

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Country: Country Rock Rock: Roots Rock Moods: Mood: Angry
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Creepy Little Noises

by I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House

Bad-ass muddy country rock from a band called I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House? It doesn't get much tougher than that.
Genre: Country: Country Rock
Release Date: 

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  Song Share Time Download
1. John L. Sullivan
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In the House
0:35 $0.99
2. Graveyard Song
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In the House
5:08 $0.99
3. Swing Man Swing
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In the House
4:21 $0.99
4. Creepy Little Noises
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In the House
4:07 $0.99
5. Whose To Blame
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In the House
4:15 $0.99
6. Saturday
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In the House
3:45 $0.99
7. Walk Across Texas
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In the House
3:14 $0.99
8. Dive
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In the House
3:07 $0.99
9. Ahhh Cigarettes
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In the House
0:21 $0.99
10. Fear'd
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In the House
3:49 $0.99
11. Hey Big Man
I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In the House
2:36 $0.99
Downloads are available as MP3-320 files.


Album Notes
Mike Damron, the mastermind behind I Can Lick Any Son of a Bitch In the House is quite the character. Of course, anyone who names his or her band "I Can Lick Any Son of a Bitch In the House" has got to be interesting. Though, Mike Damron backs it up with enough musical muscle to kick anyone's ass.

Grabbing his band's name from boxing champion John L. Sullivan's biography (note: "John L. Sullivan" is the lead track on the album), S.O.B. kicks out muddy, swamp-country-rock that would make John L. Sullivan proud. This bad boy rocking machine known as S.O.B. just beats on you non-stop, from the eerie title track and the fight theme song of "John L. Sullivan", to the grittiest ballad you've ever heard, "Walk Across Texas".

This is muddy, not-to-be-compromised, dirt-under-the-nails rock of the working man. Though, it isn't all hard knocks and sad tales of life. On the reminiscent "Saturday", S.O.B. recalls hanging out with grandma, watching Saturday morning cartoons, Cap 'n Crunch, Dilly Bars at Dairy Queen, and a care free world that everyone will instantly relate to as it brings up plenty pleasant memories of your childhood. But in true S.O.B. fashion, Damron proclaims "Mama, you're never gonna hit me again" as he escapes from the troubles of life on his Saturday, living a happy life, and eagerly waiting for the next Saturday to come around ("Cause six days ain't too long to wait").

Rockers and country fans will get it, because this isn't pleasant pop. This music lives up to the true working man creed of the aforementioned genres, kicking out harsh, wild country-rock with plenty of heart and soul, and a tender spot to boot. Mike Darmon and his backing band do both musical styles justice, keeping it raw, emotional, and plenty lively. Don't miss out.

Key Selling Points:

-National press and tour press campaign
-Constant Touring Throughout 2002 and 2003
-In-store play copies / P.O.P. available
-Available for In-stores on tour route

Label Contact:

Alex Steininger @ inmusicwetrust.com
alex@inmusicwetrust.com / http://www.inmusicwetrust.com



to write a review


Mike D is a songwriter of major caliber.This is folk music w/howling/soulful melodies, heavily strummed acoustic guitars,a wailing harmonica and more heart and soul than you can shake a stick at. Plus they got SONGS man!!! This is dark stuff from a top notch band and a songwriter that rivals that of Richard Buckner and damn close to Mr. Jay Farrar. And thats high praise indeed.


I read all the other reviews before i decided to write mine, and obviously i dont have to tell you about Mike D's voice or what the music sounds like, but I will tell you this, I can lick any sonofabitch in the house is my favorite band for several reasons. Not only are they the nicest and most cool guys you will ever meet, but they always put all they've got in to their music. That is the best part of listening to this cd, or any of their 3 cd's, the music is about something, it makes you think, it makes you feel. Not only do I recommend that you check out I can lick any sonofabitch in the house's cd's, but if you are ever able to catch one of their live shows, you will not regret it. They will blow your mind.

The Willamette Week

"I've tasted blood," Mike D (Stumptown scene stud, not Beastie Boy) snarls in the intro to his band's new debut album, Creepy Little Noises, and by the time his cronies in I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House kick in moments later, you can practically hear the plasma dripping from his jowls. With truly demonic harp licks from David Lipkind squealing along to the take-no-prisoners backbeat, and in-your-face lyrics like "It ain't gonna matter what Adolf Hitler did or what John Lennon sung five billion years from now," D sounds like he's on a suicide mission to prove that his group lives up to the drunken boast of its moniker. Even when he switches from electric to acoustic guitar, the intensity does not let up. It's a remarkably clear and dynamic recording, which more than does justice to the surprising subtlety D can muster. The vocals sometimes recall some of Axl Rose's throatier moments, or peak-junkie-period Steve Earle, with vowels twisted into an improbable twang." But beneath the bluster lie songs of substance, with humor and personality to burn.

The Portland Mercury

Is there such a genre in music as
"redneck western"? Icanlickanysonofabitchinthehouse's name
says it all: A squawking and undisciplined harmonica, the
same forceful bass line of Rev. Horton Heat, and determined
lyrics about graveyards and rattlesnake bites. More redneck
than country-western, there is not much that is melodious
about Mike D's voice--raspy and scratchy. But then again,
there is not much that is melodious or glad-handing about
kicking a sonofabitch's ass. The band's louder songs grab the
anger and chaos of a barroom brawl by the short hairs, but
what sets them apart are their softer songs, shuffling ditties
that sound like a lamenting good-for-nothing, slopping his
worries into the bottom of a glass. Hard-hitting barroom
music: just my style.

The Oregonian

Some bands have detectable influences, while others try to hide their musical history. I Can Lick has clear influences and relishes shoving them in your face. The Gun Club can be heard here, Mojo Nixon on expired cough medicine can be heard there, a guitar section gets stolen shamelessly from Led Zeppelin, and throughout the CD's 11 tracks can be heard a whole lot of "Let It Bleed"-era Rolling Stones.
Ringleader Mike D. introduces the set with an insane a cappella hog-holler before the music proper kicks in, though nothing's proper about the racket he makes with his partners in slime, Jon Burbank (guitar, keyboards), Dewey Revelle (bass), David Lipkind (harmonica) and one Flapjack Texas (drums).epy Little Noises" run the range from the chugging desert swagger of "Graveyard Song" through the downbeat and boozy '70s pop vibe of "Swing Man Swing." While Mike D.'s raucous rasp clearly is at the center of every song, several of Lipkind's wailing harmonica solos step up to nearly steal the show, and the rest of the band forms the ideal bridge between the two primal forces.


While "Creepy Little Noises" is the full-length debut CD release from Portland band I Can Lick Any S.O.B. in the House, it also seems an important release of another kind for frontman Mike Damron.
Exploring his inner demons, Damron reflects openly on his personal life and the world as he sees it, resulting in an album that is more heart-wrenching and moving than its title might imply. Bent by a muddy country-western influence, the quintet has down-home, back-porch flavor, too. It's just that listening to "Creepy Little Noises," you also get depth and a small peek into the main man behind the music. The meeting of fervent musicians and honest subject matter yields story-backed sounds that are powerful and likable.

The band members -- singer-guitarist Damron, guitarist-keyboard player-producer Jon Burbank, bassist Dewey Revelle, harmonica player David Lipkind and drummer Flapjack Texas -- invent a sound that can stomp and strut, coo and confess, growl and hiss all at once. While dishing out colorful variety, I Can Lick Any S.O.B. in the House paints a rumbling soundscape of sunsets and tumbleweeds.

Like a letter to his father or a journal entry just to vent the pain, Damron's "Hey Big Man" is a touching acoustic track that has no reservations about conceding his personal hardships. His Steve Earle-like singing is low and gravely, revealing his struggles within: "Hey big man/Did you ever give a damn about me?/I did not understand, you see/Why'd you wanna hurt me."

Also reflecting on childhood is the jangly jump-around of "Saturday," which contains a more upbeat remembrance, perhaps about an escape from his own home and from a mother who was no more nurturing than the father: "Mama oh mama/Now where have you been?/Down at the Tahiti lounge/Just drinking again."

Here's to the willingness to let it all out, and the courage to do so.

Matt Cibula

Portland kicks ass, okay? I mean, we have the world's most dysfunctional NBA team, the country's nicest transportation system, lots of beautiful parks for the runaway kids to squat in, lots of seedy heroin dives, and a Chinese food restaurant called Hung Far Low. Or at least we did when I grew up there. I last lived there 16 years ago. I live in Wisconsin now, and I miss the PDX.

Especially when there are kick-ass alt.blues.country acts like I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House still there. This debut record from ICLASOBITH is pretty much all the work of one guy, the very very confident Mike Damron. This guy is working all sides of the street: bluesy roots-rock ("Graveyard Song"), dragged-up-from-the-depths personal pop-rock that sounds like bonus tracks left off Let It Be by the 'Placemats ("Swing Man Swing"), and death ballads (the title track). And that's just the first four songs!

Look: Damron is a huge huge talent. His songwriting says a little too much -- does he really need to describe himself mouldering in the grave? Does he really need to call a track "Fear'd" and then sing about how he ain't a-feared? -- but hey, it's a first album, cut my homey a break. And his punky whiskey-flavored soulful voice and John Mellencamp-esque chord changes (and that is SO not an insult in any way... Mellencamp's chord structures are amazing) sell every single song.

But even if the rest of the album -- which includes love songs and cheatin' songs too -- wasn't so great, two songs would completely justify you getting this record NOW. They are both focused on the physical abuse of children, but they couldn't be more different. The first one is "Saturday," an outwardly jovial burner about a nine-year-old who hangs with his grandparents having fun that day every week: Captain Crunch, baseball on TV, plastic army men, watching The Cars on Midnight Special with Wolfman Jack, the whole nine yards. Only after you listen to it a couple of times do you hear the lines dealing with WHY he's so happy to be there: "Close my eyes, count three, and pray / Mama you ain't gonna hit me again." Whiplash!

And the closer is a chill-inducing indictment called "Big Man." In this piece, Mike D.'s narrator calls out a father for being a big huge asshole to his five-year-old self: "And I will survive you / Hallelujah! / And I will love bigger than you / And I won't do all the bullshit you did do" (and here the pauses are crucial) "I will not be a big man / I will not be a big man / Like you!" Yeah, brother, testify! I'm right there with ya. To hell with that old bastard, he wasn't shit, you're a better man, keep on walking and hold your head up. Wow I love that song.

It's a good album. A little short, and a little too calculated in places, but I Can Lick... is gonna be huge real soon.


Creepy Little Noises
(In Music We Trust)
The problem with most roots rock artists is that they're too polite. Constrained by fan expectations and their own deep respect for American music traditions, too many roots rockers treat country, blues and rockabilly as sacrosanct forms not to be futzed around with or applied to anything but reserved emotional states. Even songs about killers make the villains out to be sedate and possessing the finest manners.

Fortunately, not all roots rockers forget the art of being rude. For instance, the awkwardly but appropriately monikered I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House sounds like it crawled out of the bar with an arm in its teeth and a knife in its back on Creepy Little Noises. Frontperson Mike D. sings in a voice so grizzled even his larynx must have tattoos on it, and his country rockin' songs leave nothing to the emotional imagination, whether he's dealing with anger, fear, despair or something more tender. "The barrel tastes good in his mouth," he raspily croons in the title track, "He's gonna go out like he came in/All alone." Not much false sentiment here; even the more whimsical material like "Saturday," which celebrates the titular day of play while noting "Mama, you won't hit me again," has a dark edge. For all the crazed energy permeating the record, there's a sense of craft here; "Graveyard Song," "Walk Across Texas" and "Swing Man Swing" display a strong sense of melody and a close attention to grimy detail that belies the spontaneity of the performances. Creepy Little Noises sounds like the raging drunk at the end of the bar, but that drunk has the soul of a poet. Michael Toland


I Can Like Any Son of a bitch In The House (hereforth known simply as Sonofabitch) is a Portland Oregon based band led by Mike Damron. He took the title of his band from the the biography of boxer John L. Sullivan, and he also leads the album off with a track called 'John L. Sullivan'. Sonofabitch is a noisy affair that takes cues from rock-a-billy as well as country, while keeping one foot in the blues. Mike's vocals are very gruff and the lyrics are rough around the edges. Think Keith Richards and you sort of have the voice down, and if Keith sang a more folky style then he would be just like Mike. They could also be compared to Social Distortion but not as much punk. There are some fairly mellow tracks on the album like the title track and "Swing Man Swing" and they are along the lines of a Steve Earle tune. Creepy Little Noises is actually a very impressive debut album that should appeal to folk, blues, rock-a-billy and country crowds alike.

Try if you like -
Social Distortion, Keith Richards, Steve Earle

Colleen Rodgers

no one better
When i first heard Creepy Little Noises, i cried. Their music is so real and so powerful it fills you with what they were feeling when they wrote the song. I have been a SOB follower for many years and i can honestly say you will never meet a better group of guys. They sing to sing, not just be get big. this is honestly their best work, but it gets better and better everytime i hear it
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