Kyuss are for connoisseurs. To anyone not submerged in the form, tropes and variants of heavy music Kyuss are a bit scary. Not because of a overtly halloweeny image like some ghost painted Death Metal Bands. Nor because their music is particularly brutal or hostile like Pantera or some such sexless honkers.
Kyuss are scary because to really get them requires a level of commitment. To the cause. They are not a gateway band. If you’re buying listening and living with Kyuss. You’re an all in rock and roller.
To the casual observer they’re a middle of the pack heavy rock band. They have a bit of a groove on their lower end and they’re just the band that had to die so the world could have Queens of the Stone Age.
To the connoisseurs, they’re a rare delicacy. They hide their exceptional gift in the building blocks of the genre. Albums like Blues For The Red Sun and Welcome To Sky Valley are aural flotation tanks of multi-layered rocking out.
People who listen to Kyuss at work have been known to turn woollen suits into leather jackets by osmosis. Milkmen have reported entire crates of gold top developing into Jack Daniels by the end of a morning round if they had a Kyuss playlist on at the time.
It’s actually forbidden in the European Court for Dentists to own Kyuss records because they keep fitting people with gold teeth, even if they’ve only got 15 minutes with the hygienist.
GP’s should not give snake and dagger tattoos as a treatment for anything, so they’re on the list too. At least Monday to Friday. Saturday Surgery can be a bit risky if your doctor is partial.
I was playing Gardenia while waiting for roadside assistance once. When the mechanic arrived, he fitted an eight ball to my gear stick and the problem was solved.
So you see. You are well warned. If you want to hit play on the track below you have to ask yourself. Am I ready to swap my carpet slippers for Dr. Martens?