So what makes up the simple formula that has built one of the sickest, dopest, pistol waving, ass shaking, head bouncing bands for the new millennium, FACIAL? Let’s take an inside look at the band and the background:
Jiz: Feeding straight organic madness to the people, like nectar of the Gods. From the depths of his soul he vomits passion, ill-bezerkness, and Boo-Ya-Isms. Rhyming since 1985 when he was no taller than his phat laces, he crept through the sewers of NYC-Ya on the underground club tip. He’s now decided to rear his ugly dome for all the masses. When he’s not kickin flavor he can be found at PeepWorld taking care of his Jizness.
No dance was safe and no party could end, until Jiz got his shit off. The only ingredient that was missing was a permanent band that had the same warped vision as the "jiz monkey" until…
Sal, D-Fetter, and Graz had been ripping local garages and studios apart with their ball tingling
supa funk with a touch o' junk music. Lets break down the 3 amigos and see how the gunpowder got into the gun:
STS (AKA Sal The Stockbroker): A named coined by shock jock, radio revolutionary Howard Stern. One day while rearranging tampons that were stuck to his wall with his buddy Graz (Sal calls it abstract vagina art) he asked if he knew a good drummer. Graz replied, "Me stupid!" Thus the FACIAL Fetus began to form.
Graz: The sexy drummer with phat beats, 'nuff said. The kid can simply do it all, which includes cutting perfect circles into bass drums and cleaning himself off with his kick pedal as he does a tribute drum solo to John Bonham. Playing like a homeless man giving hand-jobs for crack, the Graz-Man can slap sticks on a skin like a pad on a prostitute!
D-Fetter: Balls, Attitiude, and a six string that can scare the goop out of your pappas gravy bag!
So this is the future of hardcore hip-hop for the new millennium, FACIAL...In your face musical madness, that tastes great too!
CONTACT MANAGEMENT AT: 516-459-6232 OR FACIALBAND@AOL..COM