Punk Rock n Roll. Energetic and psychopathic guitar riffs mixed with a drummer who can't stop banging his head against the wall. Throw in some scaled bass and a vocalist who can't stop singing about dead bodies and you get Black Canyon Bastards.
If your liver can't go a day without whiskey then you will like Black Canyon Bastards.
If you smell like a motorcycle and spit like a llama then you will like Black Canyon Bastards.
We DO NOT participate in "pay to play" or selling our own tickets. We had a bad run-in with some gypsies deep in the desert who were selling tickets. Kris got lost on peyote and got molested by a small furry animal. Phil ended up upside down, head buried in the sand. We still haven't found our guitarist Pat. And last we saw of our bassist he was knee deep in coyote pelts being rubbed down by a gypsie who looked like Rod Stewart, but paler.