The partnership of two individuals commonly thought to be what the kids call "fucking insane". Currently on its third incarnation, its first was a jazzy grindcore (read:horrible, but on purpose played on acoustic guitar by local drug enthusiast and all around psychotic mess name named Sgt. Fuckyourmother (all one word) accompanied by his trusty sidekick whose goes by the name "Don't Fucking Call Me Ringo" Starr on a water cooler jug. Somehow (they canved and played country) they were able to sustain a meager and homeless living off of their what can loosely be called "music". Only one such recording from this era exists, a short songs about the Arthur, and how it/he/whatever is everywhere, aptly named, Arthur's Everywhere.

The Second Incarnation was a parody of a fellow local "at least they tried" musicians, who name shall not be mentioned because Rotopsy is pretty badass actually. Realizing how easier it was to make grindcore music, Chase (having recently changed his name back) kidnapped Nick, put a gram, uh, legal performance enhancers and confidence boosters (now available with fentanyl because, fuck you guys trying to have fun), surrounded him with microphones and hit play on a casio keyboards drum track and they shit out a grindcore album. Fuck did it suck. Still, it got taking seriously and the two laughed their ass off through a few concerts, occaisonally hearing some suck up say something stupid like "oh man, that was really good" or "you guys must have practised a lot". Technically they were right, the more practise you have doing drugs, the more you do drugs.

The Third Incarnation was when the two, by long fucking chains of chaotic events, a ramble for another day, were travelling amongst the acadians high as fuck hell chilling drinking beers next to their pet dragon, every word of that being more literal than you would think, when Chase looked at Nick and said "can you pass my the mirror," and five minutes later realized he must teach Nick everything he knew about composing music. This is when they stopped sounding like shit. Literally splitting the writing of each track in half, (except Pinbar, oddly played live by Chase while Nick had a goddamn half hour piss from the beer and forgetting he needed to piss for about a week), No Sleep Til Rockton was born as a frantic love letter to industrial music, a genre considered by the two composers to "not suck as much as the shit they heard at work all day".

The Fourth Incarnation is brewing, soon the time will be right. Chase, giving up everything that isn't making music and waking up to make music and falling asleep making music, had been waiting and finally, something good happened, everyone lost their fucking jobs, (except one guy, fucking champ, oops, damn autocorrect) Nick no having time to first make his own solo album and collaborate on the next Degenerate Bastards release. Time will tell what the future hold. Unless someone dies or something.