SF WEEKLY Feature

From The Stranger, Oct 6, 2005

THE FUCKING CHAMPS, BIG BUSINESS, PARCHMAN FARM
While some women and men toil through the day-to-day drudgery of plasticware, internet jobs, and condominium apartments, the members of Parchman Farm chug on through to the other side. They conjure up images of hobo derelicts with shirts off and jean shorts on, wrestling in the parking lot over a discarded Wishbone Ash record (not so that they can play it, mind you—just so that they have something to eat off of). Hessian hooligans, if you get my drift. Born to ride. This is muscular, finger-wagging, long-haired freakbeat, whacked out on the crystallized Purple Indo-chine strain that everyone says will make your sac shrink up. Also, the lead singer will actually drink right out of a goddamn cowbell. Good times. JON PRUETT

Copper Press

Parchman Farm on some year end lists

'Parchman Farm EP'
:: format :: ep
:: out » now

tracks

» Mirror Spirit
» Too Many People
» Chosen Child
» Say Yeah
» Cook You Up