Ahhh. A few weeks ago I gave thanks for having been introduced to the Canadian duo, The Wet Spots. Today I sit in reverie and awe as I listen to their album for about the seventeenth time since I bought it at their show last Thursday.
I went to the Wet Spots' concert with enough knowledge of their songs to know it would not be a waste of my time. I did not expect to become so totally and utterly enthralled. Both 'Spots,' Cass, and her husband John were in rare form and kept me totally engaged the entire time they were on stage (or next to me giving my lucky friend, May, a lapdance).
It is frequent that performers can get a laugh or two by repeating profanities with zeal, but The Wet Spots go beyond dirty, and are downright clever. Yes, sometimes they have (totally fantastic and lovable) potty mouths, but their lyrics are engaging and terribly amusing -- I mean, who, but the Wet Spots, could have come up with "Bi-Curious George."
In addition to their cleverness, it is their spunk and delivery that set them apart. They know how to play to a crowd, and play with a crowd, as May's husband John learned when he had a percussion solo played on his ass (to be fair, he got to dole out an ass-smacking solo of his own).
If you think this is just a shameless plug for the Wet Spots, you are right. It is. If you think this is not very clever or well-written, you are also right. It isn't. The Wet Spots leave me speechless and drooling. There isn't any clever left; they used it all.
Because I am out of clever myself, I will leave you with some directly from the Wet Spots. You may even learn something. Enjoy!
