January 26th, YOD 2008

Hello my brethren,

          Like usual, it has been some time since we’ve updated this so here you go. Where do I begin? Oh, yes, shows and other hermans doings.
Well, not much has happened since the last we have written except for the usual one-show-a-month fire bombings of local stages here in Missoula as it is insanely stupid and illogical to try to tour from Montana in the winter.
The International Playboys came back for a double billing for New Year’s Eve and the following Saturday; a show we were fortunate enough to be booked on. Black Velvet Elvis, a new-er band, is totally rad and opened the night, followed by us and then my favorite Missoula band ever, of course. The Count had multiple duties that evening, pulled it off vehemently and you could definitely smell it. For all of you who were there, and you may or may not agree but screw you we know better, this was probably one of the best hermans sets since the inception of the band. SO, hats off to the other bastards around me who made me look not-so-fucking horrendous.
Anywho, onward and upward, the hermans are playing THIS THURSDAY at the Pabst Blue Ribbon Montana Band Of The Year Thing which I like to refer to as the Battle of the Bands. The people in charge do not like this but that is kind of what it is in laymen’s terms. We are also scheduled to play with The Blakes, a Seattle band who, if you’ve read our internationally distributed book, played with us years ago and kind of sort of pissed us off shall we say. Well, one should not get into the affairs of money but we were young and ornery and infantile when it came to such circumstances and look back on it jovially as we hope the Blakes do as they seem like nice guys. The show is on February 13th at the Loft (no, not that overly pompous adult “clubhouse” that ironically replaced one of the dirtiest rocking clubs in the West, Jay’s) and we will be playing with Wolf Redboy as well.
Well, that is all for now. Until the next time…most likely next year…I remain yours but above the covers,

David Eric Quincey Jones XII

November 3rd, 1984

Pals,

Hello folks. It is I, General Lee Rooster of the world famous Rooster Sauce taking over for Davix and giving this “writing” thing a whirl. You see, I’ve been reading the hermans book (The Hermans Stalking America which is available at your local book store for a mere $17.98 or from the band directly on this site!) and frankly, I believe their doppelgangers could do much better as all that book has to offer is pure drivel laced in dog shit: if you want humor, come see a rooster. Those boys don’t know funny.

Anyway, I checked out a few of their shows on tour and although they may not be the best writers around (google: the hermans book reviews to see what the pros really think of Dave and Derk’s talent) the sound the hermans are producing now is untouched; the band is raw but refined, loud but tight, satisfying let it leaves you hungry for more. I can say this as General Lee Rooster says whatever he wants, whenever he wants and he doesn’t want to hear about what you want…and I forgot to take my pills this morning.

What was I saying? Oh, yeah, the hermans tour. The boys began in Seattle and went down the coast stopping at every town to wreak havoc. Dave had a little game of “get-smacked-in- the-nose-by-a-punk-chick-and-fall-on-a-case-of-beer-only-to-be-saved-by-Charles-from-the- Playboys” in Portland and the Count puked on Julies floor in Santa Cruz. On that note, the hermans should thank Guy and his family in Eugene for putting them up but also putting up with them. Charles, as mentioned, saved their singer from sure annihilation. They also should thank Julie and Amanda in Santa Cruz (where we unfortunately saw No vampires) and Bobby in San Fran (where we saw no sign of Jack Burton or David Lopan) who also put them up and let them take showers as they smelled like shit. But, the hermans are a sarcastic and ignorant bunch of maroons and will probably forget to show acknowledgment. Jerks.

Well, tour was a success so if you see them congratulate them and buy their book…even though it would have been way funnier if Rooster Sauce would have written it. Thanks for reading,

General Robert E. Lee Rooster
Vocals/lead/rhythm guitar   Rooster Sauce

09/19/07

Hello herman world,

Well, this is a first, but since the band is a bit busy at the moment, I’m taking it upon myself to update you all (Hi, Pookey!) on what’s going on.

In a swirling vortex of activity, the hermans have played at the Wilma for the Festival of the Book release of “Stalking America”, are leaving today for the Pacific Northwest Booksellers Expo in Seattle where they’ll be playing a live show, will be playing a show this Friday at the Loft, will be on Rick Parnell’s anniversary show this Sunday night at 7:30 on the Trail 103.3, and will be playing October 6 at the Loft to kick off the west coast tour that starts October 11th. (Check out the tour dates.) Whew!

Now, if anyone doesn’t know about “Stalking America", go check it out, buy it, read it and love it. Your life will never be the same. Seriously. It may not get better, but it will not be the same.

To those who made it to the Wilma Friday, Thank You! To those who did not, I’m sorry. It was your misfortune to miss one hell of a show. I personally would like to say thank you to Bill and Chris for making it a show to remember and for all the times it’s been my good fortune to hear them play. As for Cale and the Count?...Welcome! Having heard you in the lineup for the first time, I have NO worries about the future of this band. Absolutely awesome!

With all this going on, go see the band somewhere or at the very least listen in on Sunday night. NO EXCUSES! Go get rocked.

Mattie Taco
Webmaster
MultiMedia Manager

Hello friends and family and those who would check “other” if there were a box for that,

        So I suppose you want some more news and were maybe wondering why we have not been playing shows at all since the tour. Americans like you need info, gossip, hearsay, idle talk, “the dirt,” the scoop, the fucking report. Well, here it is: Bill and Chris decided after the last tour that the hermans, or should I say, the touring hermans, were not in their best interests and would rather stay in lovely Missoula and go back to their roots of jazz.
Unlike your typical vain rock and roll bands, there is no dirt here; no bad blood or blood lost. They will always be hermanos (ironically, our name means “brothers” for those of you who don’t HABLA!) but it was time to go a new route. Alas, as a man smarter than myself once said, “Old doors close and new doors open.” That man was The Count, who is now playing the lead guitar and playing it goddamned well if I do say so my goddamned self. We have also knighted Cale Younce from the Apples of Discord to become our new oak tree upon the bass and the direction has definitely become more rock and roll. You may want to stay tuned for this one.
Bill and Chris made us what this band is and set us off to grow more confident and learn more about music. Before I met them I, personally, was stuck on a power chord plateau without a rope. Now I am on a mountain with my axe, a Hammer and two lunatic rockers and the only way to go is up so we must thank them and get going.
Our first show back is coming up in early September but you won’t see any posters with “the hermans” in our standard impact font. Instead, we are paying homage to our favorite lead singer, David St. Hubbins so be on the lookout. We will be back as ourselves on Friday September the 14th at the Historic Wilma Building for the Festival of the Book where our band will be featured as authors and it may be the last time you see the original lineup for at least a while….
Thanks for checking in and, once a-fucking-gain, we are back!!!!

Dave

07/20/07

Greetings, herman nation!

Despite the promises given by Dave, the site has not been updated in quite some time, so you have no idea what has been going on inside herman nation. For this I apologize to our loyal newsletter-reading base. Sorry, mom. Anyhow, our east coast tour was a smashing hit for us. We were all able to play in our respective home towns, see our families, and rock out with our friends. Highlights include our manager, Greg, bouncing an inebriated Czech fellow from the stage at Don Hill's in New York City, a wild performance at a biker bar in Philly, and Chris' chance meeting with a self-proclaimed "cocksucker" in St. Paul, MN. I think this buffaloon’s exact words were, "I'm a cocksucker. I have a cat at home. She's the referee and I'm a DOG!" Good times. We also learned that god loves you and wants you to live in or around the state of Wyoming. Big thanks to all of our family members for their support and putting us up.

On to more recent news, the hermans have added a new rhythm/lead guitar playing member to the four-headed rock monster. He is, ladies and germs, none other than “The Count,” bassist for the International Playboys. Though he is back to guitar, his original forte, Count is fitting in nicely, and will also be a great substitute as the new vibe-tech for the next tour in October. Though our previous vibe-tech, Franklin, will be well missed, (we love you F-dog) Count should be able to pick up the loose vibe-technical ends on future tours. On to more things that make me feel fuzzy in the crotch, our illustrious book, the hermans: Stalking America, goes on sale, officially, September the 11th. However, those of you planning to camp outside of Barnes & Noble like some dork-machine waiting for the new X-BOX to come out at Best Buy or Harry Potter book to come out at Wal-Mart, the book, despite its official release date, won’t physically be on bookshelves until late September. But when it comes out, I know at least ten members of my own family plan to purchase it, so do get in line early whence it materializes on said shelves which hold books. We could not be more excited, and we will be playing some groovy new-age festival show at the Wilma in downtown Missoula sometime in September to celebrate its release. As for now, we are practicing and preparing for the book-release tour in October, which will span the west coast and beyond. So keep reading, and we will update (I promise this time!) any future upcomings, which relate to the book and the band and Taco Wallace, for those of you who actually scroll down the page to check out his glorious majesty. Plus, we may sneak in a few local shows between now and then, so stay tuned! For now, peace and brotherly—sisterly—sorry, love from Missoula. This has been a public service announcement from your bovine balladeer, derk, drummer for the hermans, and freedom fighter extraordinaire. As far as you know. What exactly is a freedom fighter anyway? Strike that from the record. I am a pacifist. Fuck fighting. And freedom isn’t free, unless you are in charge of the people which make your freedom cost less than you pay them to make your freedom free. What the fuck am I talking about? Oh, go to hell. I mean, stay tuned!

Friends, pals and associates,                              May 25th, day before take off!


Last time on The Hermans Of Hazard, Bo and Luke tried to jump across Smugglers Bog but were high on crystal meth and fell asleep behind the pederast Cooter’s garage with a trunk full of heroin and three barrels of moonshine. Roscoe, being the tragic moron that he is, became over-zealous (finally making an arrest) and forgot to search the vehicle instead imprisoning those meddling Duke boys in the one cell with the open window…and the keys within arms reach of the cell, the sap! The General Lee was, of course, parked on the side of the Hazard County Jail, windows ajar and without a boot lock. That was Eanis’ idea. He was kicked by a mule and therefore may not apply to the “deputy” position.
Boss Hogg could have stopped them but Golden Girls was on and he had a fresh bucket of KFC and a sixer of Pabst, the fat lazy fuck. Drool and chicken grease swathed his kisser; it was glorious.

During this forty fifth consecutive and accomplished escape, Dave, Chris, Bill and Derk were rocking out at the Badlander with Volumen, AAHHHH!, Victory Smokes, and the two new hottest Missoula bands, ROOSTER SAUCE and BLACK VELVET ELVIS!
It was their tour kickoff party and, thanks to the great people of Missoula, Montana, it was a smashing success. The band is leaving for Williamsport, PA, New York City, Philly etc. this Saturday with enough cash to fill the tank at least twice being that it is now $24.00 a gallon thanks to Boss Hogg’s evil douche bag brother, George W., the war criminal. George was left on Uncle Jesse’s porch as a youngun  but the overall-clad bootlegger, seeing the evil in his black eyes, punted him from the stoop where he landed upon a charred stump which turned out to be a portal to the nether region…some call it hell, I call it the nether region.
Anyway, the point is, gasoline costs money, just like decent health care and a bullshit war, so when you see us out on our first national tour, please purchase a CD, a tee shirt, stickers, hermans fly swatters, hermans bottle openers, Spaceballs the toilet paper, Spaceballs the cereal, and a special edition hermans 2007 tour shirt with all of our tour dates on the back.
Thank you so much to the Badlander (Aaron and Chris), Volumen, Smokes, Black Elvis, and Chris Knudsen – the birthday boy (A.K.A David Lee Rooster, the third element of one hermans side project, Rooster Sauce), for aiding us in such a successful show.
We hope to meet and see many of you on our dates. For those of you that don’t show up, may Roscoe chase you to the end of eternity to forever live in reruns that have Coy and Lance instead of Bo and Luke.
Ah Goo Goo Goo!!

Dave-id Jones
hermans lead singer

To all of you,                                                                            4/8/07

This is the first of many web site letters that I don’t have to start with “it has been some time,” nor do I have to apologize for neglecting you so piss off! Thus said I still must say a lot has happened and a lot is going on that needs discussion.
            We need to thank the International Playboys, especially Jake, for coming down and helping us christen the stage at the new bar The Badlander (formerly Hammer Jacks and before that the Ritz – where the hermans were born). Obviously, we next need to thank Aaron Bolton and Chris Henry for burning down the notion of Hammer Jacks and letting us piss on the ashes. ROCK AND ROLL IS BACK and we have those two gentlemen (and two others who threw down some dough) for reinventing the rock scene here. They also allowed us to christen their stage for a cause:
            In mid February, a young girl named Sydney Stitcht was in a horrible car accident on her way to Missoula. She was in a coma for nine days and now, months later, is doing much better than any doctor would have thought but still has medical bills; the kind that only exist in the United States as she has no insurance. The first thing that came to our minds (me and Count from the Playboys) upon hearing this news was, between us, we can get together some bands, have a show and raise a few hundred bucks. This wouldn’t make a dent in the debt but at least it might make Syd feel good. Word spread and two other bands (with at least one member from Finn and Porter where she works) jumped on to play for free and help out. LP and the Federales and Danny’s Dilemma opened the show and a few DJ’s pounced on this opportunity as well. We want to thank Adelaide Every, a.k.a. The Mermaid, and DJ Trees (also both of F&P) for donating their time, skills and much appreciated effort in spinning before, between and after the bands.
            The Count and Monte Carlo (singer and bass – Playboys) also deserve credit as they spent much of their free time designing and hanging the awesome posters that blanketed our town. Thanks again.
            Enough of the schmoozing, lets get to the show: I said earlier, we figured we could throw together a quick benefit and raise a few hundred bucks and have a rock show, right? Fuck no: over three hundred people showed up and partied till the end. People had no hesitation in paying what would normally seem like a steep fee for four local acts and the energy was such a positive ingredient and an extra member of the show. Especially the music.
            LP and the Feds. opened the show followed by Danny and they both got the crowd moving on the floor. Our friend Craig mc’d the raffle and date auction that followed and next a short break was ruined by the hermans who arrived on their old stage like a fire breathing Ultimate Warrior (if you were there, yes we fucked up a few songs but who doesn’t). I can’t remember a set that was as fun. As usual, the Playboys were the David Ortiz to the hermans Manny Ramirez and followed us with giant sticks, heh, heh. It was such a great show and it was our friends and fans and whomever, not just the artists, that made that night. Thanks be to you Missoula.
            O.k., I just looked up and saw a huge letter so I am done for now. Thank you again anyone involved in our benefit show and special thanks to the guy who wrote the foreword to the hermans book (due out in October!) who shall remain nameless….oh, fuck it, the cat is out of the bag: thanks Jeff . We are kind of wondering how and why you did that and still have no words to describe your generosity…need an opener?

Dave Jones singer/guitar for the hermans
April 8th 2007
 

P.S. Our tour is official: go to “events” to see more.

Hey pukes and pukettes, March 14, 2007

Uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhgggggh. I know, I am sorry. We have neglected you again and for that I should be purged. I should be beaten and stricken and then glove slapped. And then the spanking. And then the oral sex (Holy Grail).
Anyway, I suck and you are cool. I smell like poop and you smell of a delicate aroma of roses, daffodils and baby’s breath. I eat like a frickin’ pig and you are more courteous and
polite. I am a heathen and you are a child of the lord and savior Jesus Herbert Christ. I smoke and you are...uh…better than me.

So it has been some time and a lot of things have happened in herman land.
Our tour was awesome and we wish you could have been there. The Crocodile Café in Seattle is such an amazing club and the ride through the Cascades in the dead of winter was such a great idea and we should be given an oscar in the dumb douche bag category. When the semi slid past us doing eighty and almost clipped the awesome white mini van we rented …that was aces! Derk peed in his lame white jeans that we make fun of him for wearing. Chris started saying prayers to the god that obviously hates him. Bill kept reading his biography of Burt Reynolds and I was on the hood trying to emulate the Fall Guy, whom I worship. But the show went well, the people were great and the sound guy asked us to come back saying something about being sick of the same old bullshit Indie Rock and wanting something with a pulse. I know not what he speaks of. Indie Rockers are so cool and mundane and mysterious.
Anyway, I would tell you next of the Portland show but I remember absolutely nothing and got the story the next day from Bill who said I was being a total dick screaming about how Indie Rock bands suck and “who the hell do these idiots think they are.” Sorry, I guess. As soon as our set was over I drank the bar. The other bands weren’t that bad and the guys who were running the show were actually pretty cool from what I recall.
Not that the hermans believe only some music is good and other styles are bad but some people put their trend and style before the music and don’t seem to be having fun on stage.
That is where we come in. We are total dorks who dress how we dress and no one likes us at shows. We aren’t cool but at least we rock the fuck out and have a good goddamned time while doing it. Ask Olympia, who are next on the list.
Holy shit balls. I didn’t know a town could be hooked on the same weird drug! We played in the back of a café/bar that was probably a submarine at one point. It was a hollowed out concrete room and I swore I heard Russian singing and whales fucking in the distance. We played in front of seven people. The room’s capacity was six so you know we rocked it!
The hotel was an hour away so I remained sober to drive and cranked Euromotion the whole way. Check this band out. Anyway, we ended in Spokane at a bar called Mootsies. The crowd shows up at twelve o’clock and the bartender made us stop at twelve fifteen o’clock. I really don’t know what to say here. It was fun and people were really getting into it and then we got the plug pulled. It was their “policy.”
Like I said, it was fun and we had an awesome time and there are things you can read about IN THE HERMANS BOOK WHICH WILL BE ON SHELVES IN OCTOBER or you can buy us a beer and ask us. And some things we will keep within the band so screw you.
We will be hosting a benefit show at the Old Ritz on Saturday March 31st with the Playboys, Danny’s Dilemma and Lp and the Federales. Mermaid and DJ Trees will be spinning between bands so be there, punk-o.
I will be updating this weekly so come back, won’t you?

Love,

David E. Joneserman

11/21/06

Yello Peeps,       

So yeah, we are back, we have been kicking names and taking ass all over Missoula since the last time Derk wrote and it feels better than ever. Actually, we haven’t been doing it all over Missoula because there are only a few places left to play, damn Raven.
Anyway, the hermans played between the Victory Smokes and the International Playboys at the latter’s CD release slash tour kickoff slash comeback party on September the 8th. Slash rules. It was a fucking great show especially because my garb was that of the Playboys frontman, Colin Hickey, who was apparently blushing in the wake of my costume (pics on this site). The Playboys played for the first time in 6 mos. and turned to ashes all of those we knocked down. Then they toured the country and made all girlfriends single.
Next we opened for another great band (at the now defunct Raven Café), a SubPop band called The Thermals. It was a good show until my ex girlfriend tried to fight the hermans as a collective. Being that we are lovers and not fighters (and drunken idiots are not worth their own crap) we quickly got her axed from the club, went inside, forgot about her dumb ass and continued to rock out. The Thermals rocked the house and then went on tour across the country. Is there a theme here?
Finally, we concluded the Raven’s tenure as the hip spot in Missoula at the finale show with Victory Smokes, Oblio Joes (fucking finally), and Get Set Go! It was completely insane and the crowd seemed like they were all on the same happy drug. The vibe was as if we were going to do this again sometime and as if nothing was really ending. Mike T.V. (lead singer of Get Set Go) gave us props but I said didn’t know what they were. Then he said he liked our band. Then he went on tour across our great expanse. What is going on with these shows and why aren’t we touring…sense a little foreshadowing? Damn our fans are smart!
Finally, Halloween was another one of those shows were the four of us have been so busy that we haven’t been inside a room together for a month and then played one of our better sets ever. It was a Benefit for Forward Montana and we all know how well their work paid off, thank you fellow blue voters. They were at capacity at the Loft (a newer smaller club in town) which means we were playing in front of around 150 or so. Again, YOU are at fault here because these “shows” we keep playing just continue to get better so we promise if you keep coming we will keep losing our minds in your honor. And Jon Tester’s.
So, on that note, I now inform you that we ARE touring in January (Westward) and then again in the spring to New York, Philly, Boston and then back across the country. We are also in the process of writing new material for our next album which we should be in the studio recording in late winter/early spring. Stay Tuned and merry fuckin’ X-mas.

david e. jones

08/30/06

Listen up, hermanites: This is your bovine balladeer checking in once again, this time typing with a mere nine digits since my left index finger is being a total whore and not registering any nerve stimulation whatsoever. It’s kind of like having a cold piece of steak for an index finger with the consistency of a miniature punching bag. Anywho, listen: THE HERMANS ARE BACK, BITCHES. Yes, indeedy, that crazy, cuddly lovable band is back and we are ready to rock your miniscule world with rock and/or roll music. Chris is ready to melt your face. Dave is ready, again, to scream like a careless idiot with nothing to lose. Bill is prepared to lay down a solid groove. And I, your fearless balladeer, am ready to play the fuck out of my aptly-named drum set, Arnold Palmer. You see, long before I cut my hand to smithereens, I played a MAXX piece-of-shit kit called Lemonade. Then it broke a lot and I had to acquire my beautiful Yamaha fully-functional rock demon which I originally titled Iced Tea. However, when I sold Lemonade to my friend Danny Bobbe, I kept the massive floor tom and added it to my faded black rock monster, Iced Tea. Considering the combination I had created in mine own image, a new mischievous sprite was born: Arnold Palmer. (Since we all know, boys and girls, that Arnold Palmer instantly shows up every time you mix Iced Tea and Lemonade. He is somewhat of a busybody) So there you have it. Arnie and I are recovered (enough) to once again conspire to bring you the Rock of Ages. In this glorious rebirth, the hermans have set out to play more shows, new songs, and bring joy and pure rock to your disenfranchised lives. Here is what is going on soon: This Friday, September the 1st, 2006, we have been invited to rock by our favorite KBGA disk jockey, The Mermaid, aka, Adelaide. Her superb artwork (including a rather precarious cloud made of garbage) will be on display at the Crazy Daisy, downtown Missoula, kicking off another First Friday art walk. Ryan Bundy and Purrbot will play for your listening pleasure starting around 6:00 in the p.m. Then the hermans will lay down some jazz for you later before we totally rock out. It is a scene not to be missed. Next, save the date for September the 9th, as Victory Smokes and the hermans join The International Playboys at the Raven Café, downtown Missoula. Yes, Joe, the Playboys’ infamous drummer has returned and the Playboys will be launching their comeback show / CD release party / tour kickoff show. It is sure to be the best show you have ever seen, minus that time you saw Journey and fell in love for the first time during “Don’t Stop Believing.” Victory Smokes are sure to be great. the hermans are considering this show our own “comeback show” since it is the first real show for us since my bachelor party last June. We’ve prepared some songs that will make your colon swallow your face, including a hot new tune and possibly a Playboys cover in which we will show them how to play their own song. This show is an absolute skip-your-sister’s-wedding-and-your-mom’s-funeral-to-come-to-this-show type of event. Then, on September the 22nd, the hermans will once again be flying solo at the Old Post Pub, downtown Missoula, for three hours of mind-bending, face-melting madness. Although I won’t be able to play “Punk Rock Girl” for you (since my guitar-playing days are on indefinite hiatus) I think I will bring the piano this time and see if we can’t play that again, though I haven’t tried since the accident. So look out! the hermans are fucking back, and we are ready to face-melt full force.

For those of you who read the last entry I made, yes, the Christians are still on my ass. However, it doesn’t look like I will be able to join any churches any time soon. As you know, to join a Christian church, you have to tithe. Well, sorry, bitches, but my medical bills rounded out to around $16,000 cash money and I see no way I will be able to tithe to anything but my grandiose medical loan. But you Christians can help! Send me money. That would be great. In addition, come support the hermans and that will bring me closer to my goal of joining the fraternal order of ding-dongs that take your money to bring in air conditioning to their devout places of worship where they meet once a week to ask God for stuff. Until we meet again, peace, love, and harmony from your bovine balladeer. Hope to see you soon at a rock show near you.

Peace out,
Derk K Schmidt

05/03/06

To everyone who reads this,
First of all, the Def Leppard jokes have to fucking stop. You need to be more creative and use the time you have doing whatever mindless job you do to come up with something that will make Derk laugh and not wince. He did enough of that when I poured some sugar on his left hand!
Uuugh. Anyway, thanks for the support and the thoughts and the whatever. You can stop the praying, though, as Derk is convinced that god hates us and only did this to see what we would come up with next. What is it that Mel Gibson says in Lethal Weapon? When god hates you, hate ‘em back?
Well, that would be rude and we already wrote a song about the Pope. So, I suppose we can use this time to be creative, write new material, change direction, hone our talents and create a buzz about the comeback. Or we will just drink and enjoy the sun and when we do play our first show we will set the damned room on fire and smash an old table saw to pieces in front of the crowd. Whatever we do, you probably won’t want to miss it.
On that note, we will indeed be playing our final show, for now. Missoula’s
Annual Brew Fest is this Saturday the 6th of May. We are playing for two hours from 3 to 5:00 in the afternoon. Rick Parnell (a.k.a. Mick Shrimpton from Spinal Tap) will be sitting in on the drums for a song. Don’t ask just buy the fucking book next year. Derk is going at this head strong and steadfast with one goddamned arm. You don’t want to miss this!
Well, folks, that is all for now. Oh, yeah, we aren’t playing at Total Fest this year because…uh…here is the one time where I bite my tongue.
I guess I will write back after this show and after that we will be silenced for a while.
Goodnight and good luck,
David E. Jones

02/20/06

To all of our fans, special or not so special,            

It has been some time but we have only had one show so stop your bitching. We are going straight to hell, by the way, and Mattie Taco is in the driver’s seat. Yes, I accept full responsibility as I wrote the song Pope On Strike (well, just the lyrics, really). But, I didn’t put the poor bastard on a flying cow so perhaps it will just be a short stay in Purgatory; the half-way house for dead Christians.          

  Anyway, we have only played one show since that wretched Pabst Blue Ribbon Battle of the Cover Bands and it was a benefit for the Vagina Monologues at the Raven. We are proud of a few things that happened there. First, we christened the new stage with blood, guts, sweat and beer. All of those are true accept the guts because what really are “guts?” We also got to play with Hail Man Well Met and the Victory Smokes again which was a treat compared to certain cover bands that we were forced to listen to recently. It was a good night for the Raven, the bands, the people that came down and the Women’s Center who I hope “benefited” from our little event.           

So this will be a short one as I am tired of dealing with this ancient fucking computer on a Monday morning without coffee. We are at the Raven again with Sharktopus (great name), Team Owl (better name) and Cour D’Alune (very creative name) on Sunday March 5th. But on top of that, it is President’s Day so why am I sinning just to entertain your ass? I need to go to church, pray a few novenas, hit the confessional, drop a contribution, eat a wafer, snag a few prayer cards, slam some wine and then drive around to run errands. Happy Holidays.

Phinneous J. Vanderslag  (hermans lead singer and rhythm guitar player)

01/29/06

Folks and Folkesses,

            So to those of you who came to the Other Side for the Pabst Blue Ribbon Battle of the Bands Extravaganza, we would like to whole heartedly thank you for coming out to support your home-town boys, the hermans, kick the shit out of every other band that had the brass cajones to show up…unfortunately, we lost
            But, the “kick the shit out of” thing is mostly true being that I don’t recall seeing anyone else move, shudder, breathe, dance, disco, dip, doniker, flip, flack, flutter, freak-out, feather, funk, twirl, whirl, jitter, jang, jump, bump or even fucking fall down on the stage. I must take that back: J.C. Auto kicked some ass and I didn’t see the last band.
However, the winners of the first round actually sounded o.k. but I just wish the powers of the Pabst would have told us it was a battle of the fucking cover bands.
            If we would have known that, we would have done our cover of the theme to Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure (by Danny Elfman), Neil Diamond’s “Forever In Blue Jeans” followed by a twenty minute version of “Bitches Ain’t Shit” medley with “Fuck the Police” and we would have obviously ended with a cover of Tears For Fears “Shout.”
            People’s heads would have exploded. Their knees would have buckled at the sight of the Chuck Norris mask Chris would have been wearing. Ladies would have fainted at the sight of the tee-shirt I would have worn stating “I humped Martha Washington. 13 stars. 13 inches. Coincidence? I think not.” Derk would have shit his pants, rubbed it on his face and punched a judge drunkenly and we still would have won. Bill wouldn’t have shown up because if he were a part of that, the hermans would have been a complete entity and then Missoula would have suffered spontaneous combustion as a fucking town.
Enough ranting.
            We did have a fun set after all and attained a few things out of it. A lot of people got to hear original rock and roll and, hopefully, we will play with J.C. Auto from Bozeman again soon. Andrea Harsell and her dad are cooler than ice in a fine 12 year McCallen, by the way.
So, we may be playing a big show next week and if it happens you will know. Until then, we are definitely at the Raven next Friday night for the Vagina Monologues benefit concert with the Victory Smokes, Hail Man Well Met and Raise Your Hands!. There will be belly dancers, fire eaters, sword jugglers and hopefully some midgets so we can get stoned outside and then come in to something completely fucked up and obscene.

Dave

Disclaimer, I am only speaking for me on this one and not the rest of the band.
Red Cabs’ll do that to a man.

01/16/06

Uuuuuuuhhhhhg,

To all those at the Post for Friday the 13^th: thanks for coming, sorry I was late, sorry I played like a fuckin’ amateur, thanks for being so cool and receptive, thanks for drinkin’ with us, and thanks for coming this Thursday when we really need you the most.

We are probably going to put the Post on the back-burner for a while and stick to doing shows with other local bands. We are a little loud for that venue and, aside from that, the hermans have a lot of exciting things coming up within the next two months.

First of all, our first album should be released by spring, which in Montana could mean anywhere from late February to June depending on mother nature, that bitch. Secondly, we are starting to plan our first tour. We don’t really know where we are going or how we are going to get there but if you want to someday say “I saw that band play at that shit-hole Al’s and Vic’s one time” while watching Conan O’Brien or the View, we need to get this band to bigger cities and larger venues. We are also proud to say that we are adding to our venues-played list next month with a show at the Raven. Thanks to Mike Gill of the Victory Smokes, we will be infiltrating and throwing a coup upon the small café and turning it from a respectable little coffee shop into a miserable, trashy rock and roll dump…then we’ll have tea and strumpets in the morning.

Enough about us. We need to thank Blake and Cameron of Habbilis Records for putting up with us for five long days in the studio. With endless cases of Miller Genuine Draft, Pabst Blue Ribbon, and a haze that would choke a Clydesdale, we managed to track thirteen songs in two days and then make them sound bearable with an additional two days of mixing and mastering. I don’t remember what we did on the fifth day….we probably got baked and played video games. Anyway, between them they have four magnificent ears and a tolerance level that would make Ghandi look like a spoiled brat on Ritalin. So, thanks again, the album sounds great.

I must go now and play with Rachel’s robotic monkey….wow…that may be a concept for a new song.

Love and kisses,

Davey

January 03, 2006

People who read this,

Again, I must apologize. Sorry I’ve been neglecting you: I’m a dick. There, that is settled.

So, since the last I have written some very important things have happened that need serious discussion. I am very proud to say that we were in Montana for most of that shit and if you want to wax philosophic about why George’s war is a shit-brick of bull dung, we’ll be at the Old Post Friday, January 13^th and then at the Raven on Friday the 3^rd of February with the Victory Smokes, a band yet to be determined and Jackrabbit’s Laugh.

The later is a new band who we are very proud to say we shared the stage, or little area that usually has two tables, some pool cues, and a drunken lush, at Al’s and Vic’s with on December 8^th. They are a three-piece band that do absolutely nothing but rock out on stage. You will be hearing and seeing more of this band unless your idea of fun involves a T.V., a DVD player and the first season of Benson with some root beer on a Saturday night. Jackrabbit’s laugh could kill Benson. They could probably kill B.J. McKay and the bear as well.

Anyway, the Al’s show was insane as usual. After begging, pleading, grunting, crying, bellowing, chanting, mopping, brownnosing, tap dancing, falconing (where you have a big hawk that flies off, you take a nap, it comes back to land on your arm, then you go home), weeping, praising, bribing and finally just asking, the manager allowed us to bring in an opening band. Who better to share the iconoclastic stage of Al’s and Vic’s with than a brand new Missoula band? Yes, Pearl Jam is correct but they were playing in Tibet that night. Jackrabbit’s Laugh proved to be a decent and sufficient alternative. Come see them play at the Raven show and you will not be let down. You can also ask them about the war and I am sure Gavin will give you plenty of reasons why war sucks.

See you later, you little rat finks you!

David

P.S. never mind that Russian thing….I must have been on acid again…probably the Beavis and Buttheads; those were insane!

10/12/05

Friends, fans and whomever,

Well, it has been some time and we are sorry about that but who the fuck really reads this anyway? I am not even going to edit out the misstakes or “fuck”words this time! See that! We do whatever the hell we want because we are Griswolds…HA HA!

So there have been some shows since the last we were in communicae; some good, some at a ghost town an hour north of Helena, Montana. The hermans were the lone rock and roll band at the Ear Infection Festival put on by our pal Chad from Jester’s bar. The feeling just as one would imagine rolling into a ghost town to play a show an hour north of Helena, Montana. However, the tides turned for the better and the hermans got to play in front of about a hundred people who normally would not get to see us. Most of the other bands were new age or heavy metal acts from around the West coast and kind of stared at us during our set like deer in the headlights of a truck much bigger than any semi about to send them to deer heaven forever…without being able to bring their Metallica records with them. They were nice folks in the end and of course very stylish.

Other than that, we did the Old Post a few times which always brings out the looneys and we also are very proud to say we played a benefit show for Hurricane Katrina relief which raised over $18,000 thanks to fellow musicians, business owners and volunteers from Missoula. On that note (since that show was at the Wilma building), does anyone have about $4.5 million laying around so we can purchase that historic Montana landmark? It is for sale and the Red Light/Green Room where we played is a kick ass venue. If you would like to make a donation, or uh, contribute one of your children’s college funds, send a check to the hermans and we will take care of business.

Well, it is time for me to go and vacuum Chris’s head as he smells like cat pee. Congrats to Derk and Nyree as they are taking the plunge next summer….want to see me get reaaallllly wasted…ha ha ha ha ha. November 4^th at the Old Post again.

Until then, I remain yours but with clothes on….unless you are Russian but with the last name Jones.

DAvE the Pilot of the Pop

5/19/05

To one, to all, or both of you:

This is your Bovine Balladeer checking in to divulge and rant pertaining to recent misgivings and suspicions. True, I don’t post newsletters, Dave usually takes care of that once and a while, (and I hear he has been spreading rumors of sorts about me of the impolite and evil persuasion) but I must post this newsletter, or perhaps I will christen it a “debriefing.” Listen, I have been in receipt of a considerable amount of pressure from the Christian/Religious Front. I capitalize ‘Front’ because “They” do it all the time: ‘God’ & ‘Jesus’ & ‘Holy Water’ and so on. Look, not only am I being told that band practice on Sunday is a sin, but these totemistic monkeylords are trying to recruit me to watch Christian Rock concerts and go to Church with them in weird places that I can’t spell. Herein lies the quandary: I have been asking these overzealous humps to come watch the hermans’ shows in the midst of all these monkeyshines. That said, I need a damn good reason not to go to their what-have-you’s if I expect them to come to mine. Do you see what absolute donkey shit this whole conundrum has turned in to? Of course I have absolutely no intention of attending their Power Hour or watch a band that sings about clichéd Bible verse other various horsepuckey, but how do I convince these weirdoes that they should still consider showing up to support the hermans instead? Well, this is what I have been able to come up with so far: I have been telling them that in no way, no how could I possibly join a Church at this juncture since I know as well as any God-fearing American that one must tithe (for those of you whom did not go to Catholic school for 12 years, tithing means you give like ten percent of your monthly wages to the Church via putting it into a basket with a long stick attached to the side of it that some smelly old gabardine-clad codger waves in front of your face until you drop in a little envelope or a wad of cash money each Sunday) in order to properly belong to a Church. Since I neither possess, nor earn any of said moneys by playing my bovine-clad Holstein wonder kit aptly dubbed “lemonade,” I could not contribute to their basket-on-a-stick each Sunday to aid in their righteous cause. Thus, therefore, hence et cetera, I have requested that they not only come support the hermans very soon (perhaps at the Old Post on June 9th) but to pay extra moneys so that I may gather enough to tithe to their Holy and Grand Royal Ballyhoo of weekly assembly. Now, I understand that many of you, most of you, do not attend such ceremonies, but you must do your part as well. Come to the shows, support the hermans, so that I may join their Fraternally and Sisterly institution and get these constipated minions off my goddamned back. With this, I bid you adieu. Until next time, stay away from the ones that fall down and speak in tongues—Charismatic, I believe they are called. Fuckin’ weirdoes.

Peace out,

—derkhammer herman

P.S. Thanks to all who showed up down at Caras Park on Saturday May 14^th. Sorry we started a bit late, but it turns out we were lucky to get a chance to play anyways. So to all of you who came down, we had a blast and rock and roll lived in Missoula for at least one more day. To you, my beloved hermanites, I offer these words of advice the next time you find yourselves in Church: I always found it best to put empty envelopes in the money basket at Church, that and make sure you sign the name of some tumbleweed or ding-dong you don’t like all that much.

4/24/05 

Dear Diary, 

It has been a while but the last time we spoke you were drunk and spit in my face after throwing up on my shoes, you wretch. Anyway, the hermans played with a young lad named Danny Bobbi and Akron/Family last night at a house party on 3rd street in Missoula. Danny B. started the show with a very interesting set list. His style is utterly unique and to say he is a typical folk-singer/song writer would be comparable to calling Robert Goulet a typical lounge act. This lad’s humor is very Alaskan and I haven’t figured it out yet.

Akron/Family went second and if you ever the chance I suggest you see them, diary. Just one hour and a half set will not enable me to justifiably speak of how impressive this band is. I guess, on such short notice and slightly still hung over, I could say Akron is Radiohead going through a subtle heart attack that will get you close to over load but leave you smiling disjointedly like you just watched the Grateful Dead cover Metallica. I don’t know what to say except that I wanted to go straight home and play with myself instead of following them.

Alas, oh diary, the hermans did indeed follow. It was one of our better sets and we must thank all who stayed and opened their minds and ears to our forty five minutes to an hour long piece of lunacy. The energy remained intact and the B.M.M.S. house continued to sway and flutter in a happy panic all night.

I am happy that Bill and Chris were able to not only watch their friends from Williamsport kick ass but also share the stage and crowd with them. I think I can also speak for Derk when I say that we were honored and excited and soaked with sweat as well. So, thanks to Danny, Akron/Family, Mike from the house and everyone that showed or at least intended to go as long as the excuse is creative.

the hermans will be playing at the Union Hall upstairs in a few weeks with The Krooks and Pocket Lobotomy. We will keep you posted even though you are just a depressed diary who struggles with alcoholism and the notion of self-worth.

Love,

David

april, 2005

Hey punks,

Yeah, whatever, it has been a while but when is the last time you were on here? You don’t care about our feelings. You have no heart, do you? You just move on with your life and pretend we never existed. Just strangers in the night that pass briefly in the early morn where night and day glance fleetingly at each other before turning away without a bye or leave, goddamnnit!

Anyway, that is enough insight into personal lives. The hermans have played a few shows since the last I have written, some to talk of, some to put in an urn and blasted into space Leary style. We opened for the Icicles out of Grand Rapids who were frickin’ awesome and it may or may not have opened up a new venue for Missoula at the Elk’s Club. If you get the chance, go there for a show as it reminds me of a banquet room out of The Shining. We thank The Icicles for coming to town (it was the last show of a two month tour) and all the people who showed up even though it was cancelled that afternoon and then put on again at a different venue at about 7:15 later that evening. And thanks again to all of you who have requested demos and to those who continue to watch Derk, Bill and Chris play good music and watch me defile myself on stage….it is actually quite fun.

So we have been getting a lot of guff (yeah, biatch, I said “guff!”) for not having lyrics on our site and I think that may stem from the fact that we have yet to play with a decent PA and no one knows what the fuck I am saying…..that or I just constantly mumble. So, here you go. You have beat me. I have been bested by YOU so you can dance now, or high five your pals, or jump in the air, or point and laugh or do whatever it is that you do when you best someone with the high and mighty amounts of power that I alone possess you faceless wretch! Thank for listening.

D. Jones

Soda Pop’s pilot

january,2005

Punk butts,

Yes, yes it has been a while but can’t a man be busy goddamnit!? Anyway, I blame it, like most hermans problems where the beat lies: on the drummer. It is Derk’s fault there has been no letter and he should stand up and take his caneing like a man.

Well, we have played too many show to count since the last I wrote and these are our sins: Helena was a great experience. The bar was something out of a Hunter Thompson daydream but was missing the bikers. No one in the place had ever seen, or probably even heard of us but it was obvious they were thankful that an original rock band was there to exert all of their energy just for them. Let’s see…I don’t really remember much before this past weekend so I will now thank The International Playboys ( Missoula’s best group of mother fucking rock bastards) for getting us in with them and The Krooks this past Saturday night at Area 5. It was minus fifteen degrees outside but plenty of Missoulianites and their kin folk still showed up to brave the smoke and ear drum shattering melodies put forth from the three bands. the hermans feel it was our best show yet and I must also now thank and welcome Chris Entz to the band whose guitar sounds sexier than Lando Calrizian and Indiana Jones combined.

Well, since the Sixers are on in five minutes I must go now and say a quick Rosary. Come see us this Friday at the Other Side (unless, of course, a five minute drive from Higgins is too far) and again at Jester’s Bar in Helena on Feb. 12^th.

Go Eagles.

november, 2004

Folks and folkeses,

This is number two of a series of correspondence we write to you, which will hopefully never stop as long as we breathe, to thank you or just communicate with you post-show.
As a spokesperson for the band, I just wanted to thank those of you who came out to Votestock, those who registered to vote in this, the most important election of our life time, and those who are going to be with us on November 2 to oust that greed mongering, money driven oil-hick from Texas. Votestock was a decent show for us and a soothing after-shock to the Battle of the Bands which I will candidly talk of now.
The Battle of the Bands was neither a success nor a failure due to the fact that a lot of our friends showed up to be there for us and cheer for us and drink with us and laugh with us…especially at the expense of, well, other human beings.
Though the hermans did not move on in the rounds, we were extremely happy afterwards with the responses that we received, not only from the crowd, but from the fellow musicians who also exerted themselves that night as well as the bartenders at The Other Side who were more angered with our demise than we were. We are still tremendously optimistic and ecstatic about our music and simply feel that perhaps our style is too raw and original for the three judges who went with bands that don’t sound much different from what you hear on the radio today. There is nothing wrong with this and we accept that pop-culture is reality. But, we just don’t enjoy or listen to cliché driven sound. Freedom of choice is what we got and it is such a beautiful thing to be able to hit a button and force away shitty music! So, we accept that we lost and we think it is funny; adversity is absolutely nothing new to this band.
the hermans will never compromise or conform to what “they” want to hear…we just want to play what we want to play and what YOU want to hear. “They” are controlled and owned, and their minds and opinions were fortified by some external entity before they could understand the notion of self-reasoning. Or, we suck. However, most strangers who have had the decency or curiosity to approach us after a performance and share their views of our songs or style or stage dynamics or just want to shoot the shit about music tend to make me feel otherwise. So I suppose we will just keep doing what we do, as promised, and see what comes next. I am only excited and nervous and happy about what may come….and a little hungry. But that is because Derk wouldn’t share his nachos last night. Fuck George Bushs’ repeating ass and GO EAGLES!!!!!!!!!
DAviX Jones (Soda Pop pilot and crooning vagabond, the hermans)
P.S.
Special thanks to Andrea at The Other Side for being so cool and for agreeing, in paper on legal document, to name her soon-to-be-born baby, either Herman or Hermanette.

september, 2004

Hello fans or friends or those who went to the wrong site,

It is an arduous thing, this thing that we do. Since the hermans began to slowly stain Missoula like a teeming drip of ale upon the shirt of the village idiot, we have played for crowds of fifty to that one lonesome village idiot. On that note, I now thank those of you who have been there since The Ritz and continue to come and watch us defile what sounds pretty fucking good in our basement in places like The Other Side and (this weekend) Caras Park. There is no better sound than the screams of sanction from any crowd of any size after we crash through a song that was most likely written through pain, happiness, angst, defilation or spontaneity, or all of these emotions in amalgamation. If you keep coming, we will not stop exerting ourselves in what, for me personally, is the best feeling on this planet far under a hug from my baby girl.
the hermans cannot pledge a perfect combination of sounds for you. We can’t offer three hours of concrete music without err. We most likely will not be able to save Missoula’s music scene…even though it is in our utmost interest to do just that. With that said here is what we can do: I will give every ounce of energy and truth that this body can give to make you laugh, cry, punch a wall, jump into the fucking ceiling or just say “yo, go see this band” at work the next day. We will offer our music to you and allow you to take it like puddy and decide for yourself what we are trying to do and say. You can criticize if you like (especially those who don’t make music) but just remember that I have never or will ever write anything unless it is wholly decent and pure in integrity; no clichés, nothing held back in fear of misinterpretation and no deception. Why do those things that are so prevalent in music today? It has already been done and it is bullshit! This music is strictly for us for reasons I will not tell you because you don’t fucking need to know! But, it is also for you to listen to, hear and interpret, and hopefully make yourself move around in any given fashion….as long as you don’t get any on me.
Our shows have been blissful because of you…and us…and these together. For without that combination, we stay in a cold, bitter, asshole of a basement that Derk uses as a stinkin’ woodshop so you can imagine how clustered the goddamned place is. But you seem to learn something new about yourself every time you are down there. See you at the Battle of the Bands (@ The Other Side) and at Caras Park for Votestock.
Love,
David Eric Joseph J. Herman
(guitar, vocal and numero uno bastard)