Birdcloud Aug 27, 2012


Sample this concert
  1. 1Welcome to Daytrotter00:04
  2. 2Do What I Want02:04
  3. 3Fuck You Cop02:53
  4. 4Saving Myself For Jesus03:17
  5. 5Livin' With My Granny02:00
  6. 6Springwater01:53
Birdcloud Aug 27, 2012
Liner Notes

Jasmin Kaset and Makenzie Green of the Nashville duo Birdcloud are completely fucked up. That said, we hope that they show up to every fucking party we ever throw for as long as we live. They're bound to say and do things that are inconceivable and all kinds of wrong. They will get loud and stand-offish. They would drive a car into the pool, if we had one, they would get naked and they wouldn't likely do something that they'd always be remembered for. Odds are the nudity and the car in the pool wouldn't even rank in the top five most memorable moments of the night, when it comes to what the two members of Birdcloud are capable of.

They're sexy in all of the womanly ways that you can think of and their filthy, filthy minds put them right over the top and into hallowed territory. All the ways that they aren't ladylike add up to make such an interesting concoction that you're not entirely sure how to approach them. They're the kind of ladies who have no problem going into the bakery and ordering a penis-shaped cake - bachelorette party/gag birthday or not. Hell, they shape their mashed potatoes into cocks every chance they get. They fake orgasms wherever they want and they celebrate the idea of excessive misbehavior and flipping the finger at anything that they just flat-ass don't care for - including the police and the stuffiness, or seriousness, of religion.

The introduction that they have on their site mentions sitting on each other's faces, showing each other their bruises and how the first song they wrote together was about going down on your best friend. They won't be playing any kid's birthday party anytime soon, but that's okay cause they probably hate kids too. All they do is cut into their drinking and screwing time. You can understand why kids would be an issue. These are ladies who sing on the song "Springwater," "Sang CCR after huffin' gasoline/Threw up potato salad on a karaoke machine/Told my friend's kids, Santa wasn't real/Are you interested in boobies yet and do you want to feel one?" They might not make good mothers, girlfriends or wives, but they could get away with being the perverted aunt you always wanted. Or didn't want. It's all very confusing.