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Worst ___ Ever - PUJOL’s Daniel Pujol

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Don't ask us to explain Daniel Pujol's response, we're just as confused.

Don’t get us wrong, music is a lot of fun but there is always fucked-up stuff that every band has to deal with – a horrible show, a psycho fan, an out of control band member,  some douche promoter, or, if you are Ian Anderson from Jethro Tull,  a bucket of piss lobbed at you.  We here at the FPH figured it was about time bands shared some of their best “worst” stories from the musical trenches with our readers and so we bring you “Worst ___ Ever”  to enshrine some of those moments bands would likely prefer to sweep under the rug.

This time around we bring you Nashville’s PUJOL.  The first time I heard Daniel Pujol’s eponymous band, I just was blown away – those high-energy poppy melodies wrapped around a gritty garage rock sound just pounded away at my skull with a relentless bloodlust like Tommy Hilfiger on Axl Rose.  No wait, that’s a really terrible analogy.  But look the point is it’s upbeat, fun, feel-good music that I’m going to demand you give a spin.   If this doesn’t get you up and dancing with a stupid-ass grin on your face, nothing will.  Anyhow, the reason I’m rambling is because Pujol is playing Jet lounge this Saturday and given the crazy energy of the music we figured we’d ask Daniel to give us his “Worst ____ Ever.”  The response was a bit obtuse and sounds a lot like the Ozzy talking while making scrambled eggs but given the crazy fun goofiness of the music, it kind of makes sense.

Comedy of Eras:


This is my phunky history: in the beginning, 2009, touring involved a van that could not achieve a dynamo-effect with its alternator. Therefore, every 300 miles, a “defective” battery was swapped out for a new one. Upon return home, the then-current bassist and I squatted in a powerless house, devoid of previous roommates, b/c music and school didn’t “legally” count as income to realtors, so eventually a local promoter, Mark, found us a place. We moved in, I recorded a lot of stuff, it was haunted, really haunted. Eventually, those recordings made it onto all of 2010’s PUJOL 7″s, which were created for artistic and “wholesale records being too expensive” reasons, so I just made another one as the last one sold out. In summer, this house got robbed, along with all my gear, but the promoter, Mark, who found the house, found my gear in a shed, 30 minutes before I was supposed to open this Lucero show solo?! Theeeeeeen, I moved into where I live now and started touring with Turbo Fruits regionally for 10 days a month. We saw some dark stuff, like a DJ Spider-man with One Leg.com, our own reflections in the pool of endless night, a drunk guy ram out my headlight then trying to get me to go buy red-tape at Walmart so he wouldn’t get a DUI, a Boxer puppy suck on a blanket, a bathroom wallpapered with 80’s porno, a green room with broken furniture, blood, and a pair of panties in it, a dog acting like a man, and a man acting like a dog. 

Now its 2011, I’m getting to make a lot of records on a nice label, Saddle Creek, and organize some tours, and I think, overall, we are all getting closer to the lighter side of darkness, but I can still feel its shadow, dragging me backwards in memory, cackling in the endless night, cooing and babbling in demonic baby-talk, trying to spotlight my very being with its tyrannical moon.

Pujol performs Saturday November 5 @ Jet Lounge 18+, 8 pm, $8-$10