This is the attempt at the "adult" (I use the term extremely loosely) punk band. Not like porno punk or anything (well,
not too much-see Virgil), just kinda grown up. Sam Johnson, guitar god, singing sensation, lives in a barn house with a
bunch of animals (i.e. 1 bulldog, 3 cats, 3 horses, 1 pretty girl).
Oh yeah, he (me) has spent years on the road learning the what's what of being an international touring machine with his
(still me) band NEW MEXICAN DISASTER SQUAD . Sam is ... (more)
This is the attempt at the "adult" (I use the term extremely loosely) punk band. Not like porno punk or anything (well,
not too much-see Virgil), just kinda grown up. Sam Johnson, guitar god, singing sensation, lives in a barn house with a
bunch of animals (i.e. 1 bulldog, 3 cats, 3 horses, 1 pretty girl).
Oh yeah, he (me) has spent years on the road learning the what's what of being an international touring machine with his
(still me) band NEW MEXICAN DISASTER SQUAD . Sam is also a professional slacker. Thats right, screen printer. Thats whe
re all those radical d.i.y. VIRGINS shirts come from, so whether you like it or not, he man-handeled all of 'em. This ag
ing punk wants to get back in the van, despite the fact he probably should have grown out of it a long time ago. Now ins
tead of having a degree, or any type formal certification whatsoever (other than the rules of the road), Sam now tireles
sly slaves away crafting punk anthems and working in a hot, shitty warehouse for you. Bryon Lippincot is now currently e
nabling Sam to do so. Eric Pitman, drumming dynamo, baby-faced sex-crazed wild man, here at your service.
One of Sam's coworkers at the screen print shop of horrors, and not to mention old buddies, is a studious intellectual o
n one side but when night falls, Mr. Hyde rears his ornery head. It was kind of understood that Eric would end up as the
drummer for VIRGINS. Shit, if he doesn't take out his aggression on those skins, he just might murder somebody. And he'
ll like it. And he might do it again. Pitman is a punk institution in Orlando and if you don't know him by now, you prob
ably don't matter. This boy wonder is a volatile icon to perversion, perfected. A man devoted to food, drums, awesome-ne
ss, and partying. And food. He should be the President. Speaking of institutions, Phil Longo is fucking nuts!!!
This bass-booming, smooth talking, Italian stallion might just be your new best friend. Master of disguise, bartender ex
traordinaire, Longo has already earned his place in Florida underground history (we used to call it "underground" music)
playing in countless hardcore, post-hardcore, and post-post-hardcore bands. As Sam was mooching some free drinks one ni
ght at a prestigious local rock club, Phil asked Sambo if he wanted to do a RITES OF SPRING tribute band. Sam said no, a
nd then drunkenly forced Phil to listen to the first VIRGINS demos. All said, Phil has what it takes when when he walks
on stage in front of two-dozen people to look his best, play his best, and be his best. Three brothers in rock 'n' roll,
broke as shit, desperate as hell, punk as fuck. We're just like you. See the world through new eyes. Be a born-again vi
rgin. ON ON VIRGINS!!!
