Gravy - DRUMS
Whitey - BASS n STUFF


BIO (or why Whitey fled the slumbering gnat-plagued backwater of Moose Hills, Saskatchewan to become a rising celestial body in the Rock and Roll firmament of Edmonton)

"I wasn’t so fond of the fishing, or eating the fish, since I left my wife down in the pond. I know it sounds stupid, but I still think she’s out to get me.
"I took a heapin’ helpin’ of hoopin’ on account of that swamp witch, but, as I sees it, I still has my art. Granted, the ass done fell out of my last pair of pants, but still… …life.
"Then ma dog done run off with the milkman (nothing sacred in the Devil’s Greenish Acre) – that was it for me in that broke-dick joint."

With chrome-plated sideburns and an ass like a diesel stack belching righteous blackened fury, the band is as cuddly as homemade stuffed animals fashioned of steel wool and bearing razor-wire smiles.

With a gleam in his eye, feral yet knowing, such as one might expect on a Dalai Lamprey, Whitey explains, "I just want my fans to hurt like I do."

On the subject of the much ballyhooed banana fixation, Whitey is mum and a touch hostile, "Let’s leave fruit outta this!"
As for pants, he remains defiant despite innumerable public indecency citations. "If Donald Duck don’t need them, why should I?"

"I don’t play the drums, I hit them… …with anything that’s handy." Sure enough, when confronted by hecklers one night at the Skyview Estates Community Hall, he used their skulls as tom-toms for an extended encore performance of Lucifer Sam.
While the front man crackles and pops, the back man simmers relentlessly to the rollicking boil like an ancient cast iron cauldron brimming with witch tit broth, newt fangs, eel and rattler pedentia, North Saharan clitorai, and stewed prunes to help it all pass.

1. Heat oil till smoking
2. Add whole spices: flakes of Rock cliché, Blues peppercorns, Heavy Metal filings
3. Stir wantonly
4. Fold in diced ham and cheesy rinds
5. Skat until the whole is Funked out thoroughly
6. Garnish with fermented Hippy fronds
7. Chill out
8. Never serve

Gravy - DRUMS
Whitey - BASS n STUFF

Whitey Houston was originally a poorly drawn comic that drawn back in 1996 as a joke to make a quick buck. Only one or two were ever published since I drew the beer-swilling semi-autobiographical character without the hinderance of pants or undergarments. Needless to say, the editors (or was it the board) that oversaw Our Voice weren't terribly amused and it was all officially SHITCANNED.
Both Gravy and I had been playing in bands throughout the 90's. We once played together back in ole '96, when he couldn't play his way out of a damp paper sack. Much had transpired since though and by '98 we finally were rockin' along with Brent Oliver in Slow Fresh Oil.
For three trying years SFO battled evil, recorded haphazzardly (intentionally haphazzardly mind you) and played to tens and tens of people. It ultimately imploded in a train-wreck hell-ride show in Calgary but the stage had been set and seeds sewn for Whitey to rock the proverbial Casbah. The first actual Whitey show was a Telus (?!?) Fundraiser at which Gravy played with red telephone handsets instead of sticks. Kids danced, parents stood with mouths agape while the crazies took turns ranting' over some intense phone drumming.
The indie-rock approach that had been hallmark SFO was being quickly drowned out by the stereophonic roar of the bass guitar and the ever present pugelistic trap stylings of THE CRUSHER. He was once heard to say "I don't play the drums, I hit the drums." And Crush those drums he did (and still does). The slow songs were being SHITCANNED for faster ones which were in-turn not fast enough so those were SHITCANNED for even faster ones until we finally arrived at the present.
As our pal Frenchy would say ... KEEP ON ROCKIN'

Whitey Houston is an Edmonton based rock and roll duo comprised of Bassist/vocalist Lyle Bell (sometimes known as Whitey) and Drummer Rob Hoffart (always known as Gravy). The rock duo have known each other since the mid 90’s, playing together frequently and finally making the decision to continue as a 2-piece after the disintegration of their previous effort Slow Fresh Oil in the fall of 2000. Already complementary as a rhythm section, the two revamped their set-up and sound in an attempt to maximize their sonic possibilities. Their efforts yielded a previously untapped musical synergy anchored by Bell’s inventive stereophonic bass chording and Hoffart’s increasingly blistering tempos. It was pure, feral rock and roll complete with the right mix of swagger, humour, and arm windmilling. Fueled by both Bell and Gravy’s audiophile and vinyl loyalist backgrounds, the new sound pulled from diverse influences, from the garage soul of The Pretty Things and The Sonics to the arena rock pomp of Thin Lizzy, early AC-DC and Motorhead. Obscure 60’s R&B screamers, ’77 punk and 80’s metal, all were absorbed into the mix that would produce Whitey Houston’s particular brand of frenzied rock ‘n roll.
-Chico T. Sanchez