Brent Amaker and the Rodeo

I have to admit that this is one of those burning questions which has bothered me since I moved to Seattle: Where are all the men? Sure, there are plenty of underfed, waifish nancy-boys who parade around in their "I'm too emo to wash my hair" ways, but I want to know where the REAL MEN are. Men who will drink you under the table, wrestle a hog, and get a new tattoo – all in the space of an hour. Men who remove beer caps with the same teeth they use to light matches. Men who drive ridiculously tall American trucks and who think global warming means more women in bikinis and BBQ's year 'round. Men who think foreplay means buying her another beer. Just when you thought the Seattle music community couldn't get any more pussy-fied, in rolls Brent Amaker and the Rodeo on their hogs to save your manhood. These ain't your unshaven, chaw spittin', flannel-shirt, dirty jeans type of country bumpkins either: these boys are well-groomed, dressed to the nine's with matching dry cleaned and wrinkle-free black button-down shirts, crisp and creased black jeans, matching cowboy hats, and neck scarves. Upon first glance of their get-up, you might wonder if they aren't more suited for The Timber... more...