QUINN WALKER Press Release

2 ALBUMS in 1 PACKAGE OUT FROM QUINN WALKER

JANUARY 29, 2008

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

BROOKLYN, OCTOBER 10, 2007

QUINN WALKER’s a loveable madman minstrel roaming highways and cul-de-sac’s swaddled in a birthblood and big mac encrusted afghan. Moms and dads are quick to summon their daughters and sons back to the safety of their suburban split-levels at the mere sight of such a garish stranger. Unphased, in the streetside stillness, Quinn will set up his one-man neu rave nursery school band on a curb. The eruption of a single bar of valiant poetry gushing out of his blurry face in a rash of meticulous chaos-- his voice stretching from medieval falsetto to

autocratic bass— will inexplicably incite the spontaneous surrendering of all the neighborhood tweens and pre-teens into the pasture of this sweetly sinister suburban swami.

A brief history:

This fresh baby boy has recorded armfuls of hours long albums, all dwelling in the canyon between the child-endangering occult and the classic top 40 from the 50's. Quinn’s a wholesome punk rocker. A modern werewolf. A chain-smoking toddler.

Voodoo-EROS is fortunate to release two albums (for the price of one damn album) at one damn time by the first biological male to enter our womb.

LAUGHTER’S AN ASSHOLE

With the safe sterility of Doogie Howser, Quinn clicks on the broken keyboard of a broken computer and brings you into a perilous playground packed with haunted horses murmuring merry-go-round music as they are led down the red carpet by (the original) Mickey Mouse Club chorus.

A single revolutionary guitar howls in wedded bliss with maracas, drums, tambourines, keyboards, and Masonic bells— all of which seem to play themselves as if inspired by screaming pygmy monkeys from a NOVA special they saw on PBS. All this just to conjure a hundred neon-static televisions singing at you all at once.

Laughter’s An Asshole is encouraging; eccentric yet non-exclusive. It’s like, Come and play with me let’s get drunk on the beach, it’s Tuesday! Quinn’s meditations include the beauty in infinity: fear not the insane, don't block the voices, write down what they are saying, don't be afraid to look in the mirror when you’re tripping.

LION LAND

And with the modern age of sex and medicine

And with the slutty products we slowly become

We say a thousand words we can sum up in one

Sometimes I only suck the bullets from the gun*

LION LAND is basically an e-card sent to grandma back in Africa from a tribe of lions on their first visit to Disneyworld/Kissimmee St. Cloud, Florida. Damns and whirlpools of itchy frightening frequencies tenderly romance lyrics that orbit the worlds of ecstatic parochial school patriotism and junglebook moral codes. Industrial beats are stocked by hems of cinematic synthesizers suckering you, as a sunset might, into having an emotional moment.

Quinn’s feral musicianship flows freely through every anthem and a warm, howling wave of screams and whispers and pounding drums will feel at times like fuzzy hugs, at other times feel like the result of letting a blind lion cub into the kitchen to invent a new recipe for lasagna. (“Lasagna” being used here as a euphemism for “pop music”.)

*lyrics

US PRESS CONTACT:

Daniel Gill, Forcefield PR: danielmarkgill@gmail.com

EUROPEAN PRESS CONTACT:

Simon Guzylack, Voodoo-EROS: simon@voodooeros.com

RADIO Promotion by AAM

DISTRIBUTION HANDLED BY:

Touch and Go Records www.tgrec.com

LABEL CONTACT:

Militia Shimkovitz: shimko@voodooeros.com

TOUR INQUIRIES: info@voodooeros.com

PROMOS & POSTERS: available from Voodoo-EROS or Touch and Go Records