Casey: Guitars – Vocals
Casey is the band’s C.E.O. of shameless self promotion. He is the stooged P.T. Barnum of Bad Monkey’s endless search for new and interesting places to perform, places like festivals, witch burnings, and halftime at the Superbowl. Also eviction parties, prison releases… and your bar.
Casey took everything he learned in a thousand guitar lessons and chucked them out the window long ago. Instead of picking and strumming, he will pinch and prod a guitar until it gives up just the squonk or snort that fits the song. He eats his lunch between the beats.
Grammy winner Buckwheat Zydeco once told Casey, “You got your OWN thing; you play reggae guitar like an island man!” High praise from a guy who played with Clapton. Instead of wasting his time working to play technically perfect passages, Casey will usually twist the throttle wide open and play in a style that is torn from the heart of desire.
Casey has been known to virtually wallpaper a future gig spot with custom made promotional flyers that have become collectors’ items for those who follow the band. Bring a Sharpie!
Dave: Drums – Percussion – vocals
Dave drums. A lot. Rock mainly, but he’s made no enemies with blues, funk, reggae, soul, alternative, oldies, punk, Motown, country or jazz. Doesn’t like pop, but he’ll play it. Dave has plowed a deep trench of heavy, steady grooves through
In 1994, Dave pushed that trough across international lines when he took 1st place in the Molson Drum Off ’95 in
Those who follow Dave are known to drink. When you hire Dave to play music in your bar, you are guaranteed a good night at the register.
Kirk: Bass Guitar – Harmonica – Vocals – Sound Tech
Kirk is the band’s longhair. A hippy dippy tattooed gypsy longhaired leaping gnome. He is a quasi-spiritual inspector gadget with a groove. A bearded bush doctor. He could pass for Jesus H. Christ in a pinch, but the devil made him do it.
Kirk climbs the bass guitar like a soul-drunk monkey up a ladder, then bangs his tin cup of funk for musical spare change. When the mood strikes him, he will summon the boogieman from his bag of blues harps and spit a voodoo ju ju through the reeds that could make the crippled ripple with a hudu guru.
Kirk will chew your ear off about spells and hexes you never heard of and make you believe that rock and roll is a religion. He serves up that sonic religion at every gig like a back-flipping Reverend James Brown with a hot coal in his back pocket. More fun than a barrel of Bad Monkeys.