Ten Year Vamp | Don't Act Like You Know Me

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United States - United States

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Rock: Modern Rock Pop: Pop/Rock Moods: Mood: Upbeat
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Don't Act Like You Know Me

by Ten Year Vamp

No Doubt meets Foo Fighters with pints full of energy, charm, and sex appeal.
Genre: Rock: Modern Rock
Release Date: 

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  Song Share Time Download
1. Never Know
3:16 $0.99
2. Stay
3:18 $0.99
3. Say That You Made Love To Me
3:55 $0.99
4. Pleasures (That I Call Mine)
2:43 $0.99
5. Faked It
3:30 $0.99
6. I Don't Need
3:17 $0.99
7. One Night Ticket
3:28 $0.99
8. Another Try
3:01 $0.99
9. Oh So Nice and Slowly
3:19 $0.99
10. Call It
3:44 $0.99
11. Rockstar
3:47 $0.99
12. Goodbye
3:12 $0.99
Downloads are available as MP3-320 files.


Album Notes
In your grubby mitts right now you’re holding one incredible slab of high-protein American Pop. And indeed, whatever PR firm we hire (in fact, I think we’ve already done that) will market the band using American Popular Music guidelines and categorize these ass-kicking charlatans as “modern pop rock” or some such overgeneralization aimed right at the appropriate teen demographics. And hey, that’s OK – nobody wants to do this for free forever, ya know?

But when I say American, I’m not talking fraternities, feedlots or fast food. I’m not talking NASCAR, feldspar or booby bars. Hell no. I’m talking Rockets-Red-Glare. About Leary’s Politics of Ecstasy, about Mailer’s Ancient Evenings. I’m talking No Doubt pummeling Kelly Clarkson in the octagon of my most truculent and succulent fantasies. I’m talking about We the People, in order to form a more perfect and grotesquely amplified way to blow your asses back to the Tertiary period, when good old Homo erectus actually had to do something to stay alive where the wild things were. Yeah. That’s it. And I know you’re gonna love tasting it as much as we loved making it.

Playing music for a living is like succumbing to some exotic mental illness. It bites you early and often. It might have been The Beach Boys. Or U2. Or Led Zeppelin. Or Green Day, Black Flag, The White Stripes or Yellow Submarine. Whoever it was, you heard it and your eyes watered. Your heart shattered into greasy feathers. Your entire cellular infrastructure contracted and expanded in some indescribable, inexorable bliss and hot light shot from every pore and you said, “I am going to do this too… at loud volumes… in public… until I die…. no matter what.”

This remains the case despite having to spend extraordinary amounts of time with folks that have multiple personalities, psoriasis and a fear of sunlight. The afflicted individual happily suffers scores of aliens who can’t play a lick but fancy themselves the next Puccini, and of course there are many who can play but have the personalities of dildo salesmen. There are even some who think a rock band should be managed like a city council. You also meet people who want to take, break, shake and rake you until it looks like this is the end, Underdog. And those are the fuckers on your side.

But once or twice in life, by fate or by chance, you find more than a band, you find an impervious force. That star-crossed, dream-soaked permutation of talent, influence and abandon necessary to throw it out there every night like tomorrow falls the shadow. A band that has the songs, the work ethic, the sheer audacity of wit and will to make a change of panties necessary on a global scale, dig? Music built with sweat equity, false starts, intense disappointments, and the chocolaty lip of dogged persistence. And perhaps most of all, the blessing of an intense and dedicated fanbase. Since Ten Year Vamp has known all of this, I guess it’s more than a CD you’re holding. It’s a guarantee.

Have fun with this. I know I will.

Bill Ketzer
July 2009



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