Biography
The terror of error is having its way with the world- what to do? Cower for hours in the presence of power? Or penetrate the possibilities of personhood, blasting past the disastrous feeling of fear? When mediocrity meddles with masses of musicians, what can be done? You can turn of the television, you can cancel the cable, you can isolate from iTunes, you can run from the radio, but what man coul
d plan to abandon the fantastic grandness of bands? Become a Jamface fan.
Disgrace laces the faces of our race when the Jamface takes place in space- nothing compares, and how could we care?
Lead lyricizer William Sunshine lends lip-splitting, vexing vocals with a distinctive bite and rhythmic expressionism- borrowing influences from rappers and rockers contributing violent, vile style with no possible parallel.
Berserker bellowing of vociferous vocals, a choice voice destroys with noise, scaling the scales, never to fail.
Julian Lee professes percussive prowess with every punch from snare to cymbal- exploding with impressive ability. Destroying the drums with a rumbling tumble of thumping, arms jumping drastically from tom to tom, the sound of bombs!
Mike Battista’s Bass raises and shakes the stage, hacking your heartbeat and hearing to control your cranium with a slew of sonic stomping, his lively licks leaving laymen at a loss for words. A harmonic artist, a rhythmic twister, and a mindblowing masturbasser.
Mike Bottiglieri’s melodic majesty makes most musicians melt. A tone to tear down your bones, and sustains drones with lonesome notes. Jim Horvath soulfully stews a slew of tunes, shaking the strings to scratch out nasty blasts of noises with poise. Guitars artfully invade the air- strings of sound eat at the eardrums, can’t wait to hear ‘em? Take a ticket, tense up, tell ‘em that you’re signed up to joyfully gel with the jesters at Jamface.
Psychedelic, psychotic sounds- confounded with funk. We’ll do it all, we’ll make the call- whether scratchy scraps of rap or rambunctious rock n’ roll- desecrate the designation of decades. Traversing time, telling tales of the world- a newly self-aware generation has a zeitgeist encapsulated, captured with cacophony and catastrophe. The spirit of the ages has been summoned. Grab your squeegee and a Ouija board, horde. There’s gonna be a mess to clean up.
The terror of error is having its way with the world- what to do? Cower for hours in the presence of power? Or plow through the crowd with a presentation of prowess? A new obscene dream is screaming across the seams of the scene- Jamface has arrived, and to nobody’s surprise- we’re right on time and ready to defy.
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