When I hear someone say "newgrass" I'm usually thinking it's got something to do with a dealer getting a new connection or a dumb thing about resurfacing an outfield, but for the kids in Old Man Markley it's more of a way of life. Wait, what? Nine punks playing together since 2007 with a penchant for old timey porch type shit and red white and blue acoustic guitars? Violins? Girls in the band? A fucking homemade washtub bass??? What is Fat Wreck Chords thinking putting out this 7", entitled For Better, For Worse, due out on October 12th. Have they gone crazy or are these California kids really that good?

Well, part of it may have to do with the fact that the music industry is going out of business, but most of it has to do with the fact that Old Man Markley sounds like what would happen if Mike Ness woke up drunk in a bed with the guys in Old Crow Medicine Show and decided to just make a record rather than do the walk of shame, and let's face it people: that's just awesome, and if you don't think so you truly have no soul. You could wimp out and just say they're the Dropkicks of bluegrass, but that would be reductive and crappy, so let's instead get down to business:

Old Man Markley comes from the San Fernando Valley, just like all your favorite internet downloads. And they've also got nine people in them, just like all your favorite internet downloads. BUT they're also gonna tour with NOFX and Bouncing Souls in early '11 in order to ring in their first full length on Fat Wreck, and none of the girls from Dong Garglers #12 can say that, can they? Of course not.

Listen, these guys and gals played their first show as recently as 2008 but with a pedigree that includes former and current members of Youth Brigade, Angel City Outcasts and Blue Collar Special, you know you're dealing with a pretty wild strain of Bluegrass. Hell, there's a husband/wife team up in here and even a guy who's last name is Balls! So strap on your dicks and/or vaginas and get ready for southern California's bluegrass scene. If they can make people dance on the bar to down home bluegrass music in a Hollywood fantasy world awash in strawberry cocaine and anal bleaching, then they're sure to put a smile on your un-botoxed face. And listen, they're good looking, polite and they'll make your mom say shit like "who was that nice boy that played the washboard in that one band that sang that song that your dad and I liked about driving long distances with the cops chasing you?" and you'll have to say something like, "You know what mom, I like Neil Diamond, you like Old Man Markley. Let's call it even and never talk about this again, 'kay?"