Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Matt Oliver, Mastered by Ryan McGill
The bucket is either half-full or it's got a hole in the bottom of it, when it comes to the stories that Tone and C.C. of the San Diego duo Little Hurricane like to sing about. They take us traveling in a loud and rattling truck down the dustiest roads, into parts unknown, where the luck has long ago dried up and assumed its final resting place at the nearest cemetery, where it's visited only by the caretaker, the lawn mower and berry-filled raccoons shitting on it when they're overcome.
There's so much rotten in the guts and so much piss and fire spewing out of Little Hurricane songs that you're fairly sure that they've ticked off the devil and they're on the wrong list. It's coming at them hard and heavy and they're just doing what they can to keep the big man in the cape in the rearview mirror as they keep humping down the road, doing whatever it is that needs doing to stay tough and upright.
The characters in their songs always seem to be on the run, giving hell or gunning for more of it, whatever they can get their calloused hands on. They are people of the earth, of the shacks and of the unfortunate beginnings - though they don't seem to do themselves any favors with their shady decisions, usually made out of desperation or something from the same family. They're hard workers and they're mostly morally sound, but they have their indiscretions and their slippery judgment calls that get them into the greatest amounts of hurt that they feel. It's one of those ringing pains, those throbbings that pulse straight through a body and make it jittery, make it feel uncomfortable in its own skin.
There's a sense that, sooner or later, this one's just going to let loose and go on a rampage - of what variety remains to be seen. Something's going to happen though. Tone sings, "Gotta find a way to get away from my ways/Your ways/Our ways," and it's obvious that there's a lot of self-destructiveness in these tense and dirty songs. It's also obvious that these folks are twisted together, legs wrapped with each other's vines and they aren't going anywhere, just as they'll never get away from the devil, no matter how hard they try. They're stuck.