1929 consists of members John Boothman (ex-Bro JT & Vibrolux, President BSA {Bald Swingers of America}), Brendan Gallagher (ex-Dischord waterboy, Battlefield Earth reenactor {that's "Terl" to you, farb}) and Tyler Harold (CFBI Booking wunderkid, Fred Biletnikoff lookalike). For the past two years 1929 have been leveling blowboxes all over Philadelphia without so much as a "Hello, It's Me" from Philly's own blowbox king, Todd Rundgren. You'd think with that kind of liberation going on the least Todd could do is invite 'em over to try on a pair of Roger Powell's sunglasses (left by mistake), rub one of Kasim's scarves or exchange high fives with Willie Wilcox. Maybe the Runt's savin' all the good times for Utopia acolytes The Champs. Cujusvis hominis est errare. Once they were spied moping around town, giving each other charleyhorses and hertz donuts after the big dis, the CEO at Siltbreeze agreed to give 'em a record deal. Since they're all Vietnam vets, it makes sense. It's just that kind of restaurant. The sonic, slurring, instrumental tonic they have decided to bottle up and pass off as their own is a dab of Hawkwind, a pinch of Dead C., and a sprinkle of any number of desert rock's heaviest comancheros. You could say it's the finest non-vocal release to pass through the turnstiles since the Smashchords' 12-inch. Or if you weren't born then, how about Earth 2? Say whatever you like. So long as it's not Gone III. 1929 have played in support of and wiped the floor with the likes of Acid Mothers Temple, Bardo Pond, Major Stars, Bright Eyes, and Dead Meadow. As soon as Boothman finishes rebuilding the engine to their Huey Cobra AH-1 touring chopper (well, a Ford station wagon), they would very much like to come to your VC village and lay waste to your rice paddy. Just remember, it's not fun until someone gets an eye put out.