Live at the Launch Pad

Live at the Launch Pad

Imagine pointing some beautiful, vintage Mustang convertible down a Middle American highway for a moment. There's a sea of endless prairies and plains stretching out around you. The road; a streak of concrete into the horizon, where the only evidence of civilization exists clustered around gas stations and dive bars at the interstate off ramp. Curiosity gets the best of you and with a flick of the turn signal you're veering off the road right for that roadhouse a place where bikers, truck drivers, and local meat/metal heads, bad ass farmers' daughters, and working-class factory folk all gather when the sun goes down. It's kind of an ultimate American image, right? Shrouded in Red, White, and Blue, cheap beer, and the stench of strong whiskey. And of course there's a band; a swaggering, semi-drunk cyclone of country, blues, folk, and rock whipping all of those colorful characters into an absolute fury. Requires a vivid imagination, I know. But the band? They're very real. They're The Wild Feathers and they're pretty much here to kick your ass.