SEE WESTY RUN
From the fertile almost-headwaters of the mighty Mississippi, a region also known as Minneapolis, comes yet another entry in the thoughtful thrash category: Run Westy Run. Three brothers, two guitars, one whomping good sound. The Westy’s unadorned, not too tight, just tuff enuff approach to this thing we call rock ’n’ roll invites comparisons to fellow Twin Cities bashers like the Replacements, Husker Du and Soul Asylum, but as the boys themselves will assure you, “Nobody in the band really looks to those groups as influences, y’know.”
SEE WESTY RUN
From the fertile almost-headwaters of the mighty Mississippi, a region also known as Minneapolis, comes yet another entry in the thoughtful thrash category: Run Westy Run. Three brothers, two guitars, one whomping good sound.
The Westy’s unadorned, not too tight, just tuff enuff approach to this thing we call rock ’n’ roll invites comparisons to fellow Twin Cities bashers like the Replacements, Husker Du and Soul Asylum, but as the boys themselves will assure you, “Nobody in the band really looks to those groups as influences, y’know.”
That’s singer/lyricist Kirk Johnson speaking, whose older brother Kyle and younger brother Kraig man rhythm guitar and bass respectively. “What’s good about this band,” puts in lead guitarist Terry Fisher, "is that the four of us have different tastes.”
Kirk goes for Lou, Iggy and the Doors, Kraig favors funk ’n’ the Stones, Terry digs “Zeppelin and heavy blues,” and Kyle’s main inspiration, Terry figures, is most likely “some band I don’t even know about—he comes up with the most unusual licks and guitar rhythms and stuff.” Drummerless at press time, the band had borrowed Tommy Ray from Minneapolis pals, the Mofos.