Thikc Kevin. Band. Band likes to play music.
The Standard Biographical Information:
Mostly original music, Indie/Rock/Punk with American Southern & Surf-Rock influences.
We are local to Cleveland, in the OH-IO!
Thikc Kevin began in 2015, mostly as a way to get over our crippling inabilities to socialize with people at bars. We were like, “Bro, we need a conversation-starter.” and then one guy was like, “We should pretend to be a band!” and we pretended so hard that it became Real!
REAL!
We wrote some good songs, played some good shows, lost a member, gained a member, shut down for a while, did some stuff with cameras, recorded an album, released it in February of 2020… then shortly afterward all of our shows got canceled because of the thing. We wrote a BUNCH more songs while we spent 2 years in an underground bunker, like the military people, and now WE’RE BACK! and booking shows again… or at least trying to: Click Here!
We plan a re-release of the album this year if we can manage to make that happen without it feeling too tacky and we plan to release a second one very soon, at the very least next year, we’re motivated!
I don’t know, we just want to have fun and play tunes on a stage, you think we should make t-shirts? Yeah, let’s make some t-shirts. Actually, screw the music thing, just make t-shirts. Johnny! Get Jakprints on the line! T-SHIRTS!!!
This is the People Section.
Gabe has been studying the “dark arts” since the early 19th century. When he is not partying with the band he caries on his master’s work, counter-crusading against the Secret Spanish Inquisition that has been covertly operating outside the law since its public dismantling in 1834. Though his power level has never been officially confirmed, Gabe is known to hold at least a first-degree black belt in the following styles: Druid, VooDoo, Wicca, Scythian, Romuva, Jedi, Shibari, Taoism, Hellenism, Yoga Flame, Rush Hour 3, Baba Ram Dass, Some Kind of Vaguely Celtic Something-or-Other, Sun Warrior Fire Bending, Incense Burning, Lets all go Vegan for a Month, Pinko Commie, NWO, and SubGenius.
“Hey babe, you wanna come back to my place and peep on my mad dizzy occult swag?” That’s right! No ladies can resist the allure of Gabe’s silver tongue, amongst his other silver things, as he shows off his various phantasmagorical trinkets pre-coitus. Those lucky enough to wander into his den of desire (and light but firm & enjoyable punishment) might glimpse various wonders from this world and beyond such as the Bacalum of Constantine, the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, and the other two Sankara Stones from that movie with the unbelievable life raft.
Experts predict, within the next decade or so, that Gabe will likely succeed in transfiguring himself into a full-on Hellboy situation and subsequently ascend to the 22nd floor of 550 Central Park West where he will binge-watch episodes of the French murder/mystery series “Balthazar” with his old buddies Baphamet, Beelzebub, and the Balrog… for the boring parts of eternity.
Needless to say, Gabe is your favorite member of the band.
So when you are alone in your home and out of the corner of your consciousness you can hear the faintest sound of someone drumming it is probably just Gabe, accidentally astral-projecting as he practices his craft.
Don’t call him “Gabriel”.
He prefers that you don’t do that.
“Gabriel” is a different guy.
Josh (Joshwaaa) was born during an earthquake-tornado in the saloon car of a flaming locomotive train rocketing toward the Pacific Northwest. He flew straight out of his mother with a 6-string in his hands, executed a perfect tre flip darkslide, and cold-cocked the physician’s assistant so hard that he temporarily distorted the spacetime continuum effectively becoming the reason for Joseph Hooker’s resignation and George G. Meade’s appointment and subsequent victory at the Battle of Gettysburg.
Jorb, I mean Josh, escaped the doldrum of society and was raised in the wilderness by an extra-feral herd of white-tailed deer. He spent his childhood kicking the ever-loving piss out of all those self-satisfied raised-by-wolves dipshits who thought they were so hardcore. By the age of seven he felt that he had learnt’ all and conquert’ all in that domain, so he fashioned tools from the land, tracked down and wrestled to death a wild boar, cooked its meat, tanned its hide, shaped and tacked from the leather boots and boot straps, and then pulled his own ass up by that which he created.
…
He strode into town. His eyes were as icy as Cotton, Minnesota in February, his fists were as furious as a thousand horny badgers, his thighs were as creamy as Country Crock with just a little bit of olive oil mixed in. The locals took one look in his direction and they knew that they were staring at a real American hero.
Josh is pretty cool… but he keeps looking down at his guitar pedals. What is so special about those guitar pedals?
Designed in Canada, Built in Mexico, and Assembled in the United States of America, Ryan is a mostly duty-free product of NAFTA. His original directive was to provide oral stimulation to the secret female members of the secret service but half way through the whole assignment some wires got crossed and he started sucking mad dick as well. This complicated things, fortunately his advanced programming allowed him to pin a few particularly high-profile mishaps on a single White House intern.
It was around the time of, and likely as a result of, the release of Weird Al’s tenth studio album, “Running With Scissors” that Ryan officially passed the Turing Test and with that developed an interest in using his mouth for something other than masticating crotch. From then on he began singing and playing the sexiest instrument, bass guitar (eat your heart out saxophone!). On his official march to what the contemporary science fiction writers are now calling “Sapience” instead of “Sentience” (giving the discussion of consciousness over to the clip/magazine, affect/effect, holier than thou know-it-all corrector-squad who have literally never used the phrase “I knew what you meant”) he heard somewhere that doing a standing back-flip was, like, 90 percent mental and only, like, 10 percent physical, so he tried it, entirely failed, mostly exploded, and had to be rebooted.
He came
back online 6 months later with the ability to love and Ryan 2.0 naturally has spent most of his existence since that moment disappointed.
It is barely worth noting that Ryan has a side-project playing acoustic joke songs that have once been described as “if Alan Menken was a pervert” and that he also has another side-project in which he writes really pop-style basic garbage that makes him happy… but that’s just for fun, and for money, and getting naked with people, and none of it counts right now.
If you are curious about that stuff… well you’re in the wrong place baby.
No further details.
This is Mikey.
Look at Mikey, Look at him go.
There he goes yeah, Look at him go.
I said Hey, Ho, Look at him go.
Look at that guy it’s Mikey, GO!
Everybody loves Mikey.
… but not as much as you love Gabe.