When spoken-word duo the Weeds came back from their second hiatus, they had a completely different mentality from before their first two stints, and more than a decade, as a band.

Adam Matza had always been the vocals in the group, growing up writing poetry in high school and later reading his work at a nightclub. The effect his poetry had on the crowd felt right, he says: "The whole performance aspect happened by accident."

Matza morphed his poetry into music with his first band, the Baboons. That was before he started his current act, titled after the last line in a book of poetry he wrote also called Weeds. When the band got back together last fall for the first time since 2003, the guys wanted to see where they were musically. Matza realized he didn't want to continue with poetry and the "angry element" it once had, and drummer Jim Seidel didn't want to play acoustic drums anymore.

Ian Witlen

Busting out song after song of surf-tinged, fuzzed-out garage punk, singer/guitarist Gabe Miranda, drummer Anthony Hernandez, and one of a few bass-playing friends, get the late-night crowds dancing all over Miami and Fort Lauderdale.

The rock and roll duo have known each other for about six years. The most significant pre-band memory Miranda remembers is of Hernandez showing up to high school "randomly" wearing a Winnie The Pooh costume. The great irony of that is he spends a lot of time behind the set shirtless, representing those of us with a healthy field of chest hair.

The hair may or may not speak for the band, and who knows what its visibility says, but Hernandez bares it on the cover of their jangling 2012 EP, 1%er. Miranda promises a new album is coming this summer, and says the month-old single "Satisfy Me" is proof that he's got a whole lot of songs written that just need to be recorded.

The Gun Hoes are one of 19 South Florida bands playing the Block x Blog festival in Fort Lauderdale on April 20. Winnie The Pooh won't be behind the drums, but the meaning of the term "cock rock" is probably going to be redefined once or twice.

See also
- Least Active Member of the Gun Hoes, Drummer Anthony Hernandez, Talks YOLO and Tons of Shit
- The Gun Hoes' Gabe Miranda on Horrible Early Recordings and LSDoom

"Today's a good day," says NoEmotion. "Made some sales, sold some T-shirts."

A consistent figure at local hip-hop events, NoEmotion is hard to miss walking around donning one of his two gold drama masks while handing out posters and cards with lyrics on them. He won't say anything to you while wearing them. He'll just stick his hands out waiting for you to take them.

At first sight you have to ask: "Why is this guy wearing a mask?" And at first listen, "What's he saying exactly?"

South Florida isn't known as a breeding ground for country music, but our climate did inspire at least one country singer in Tommy Dalton to pick up a guitar and belt out some tunes. 

Lock up your monkeys!!!

Many years ago, I found myself perusing the stacks at the now-defunct South Miami CD Solution. While the visual assault was mostly relegated to your run-of-the-mill second-hand Steve Vai releases and the odd Joe Satriani discs, my then younger eyes fell upon something so enormously sacrilegious that I had to spend my few dollars on it. That CD was Raped Ape's Terminal Reality.

The album was in the erogenous zone between acceptance by the world at large of Florida's unnerving kung-fu grip on metal and the even-lesser-known humorous aspects of this dick-shaped state. 

If you grew up in Florida in the '90s, phrases like "Dead German Tourists" and "Raped Ape" were not everyday happenstances; they were bands. And we fucking loved them.

See also:
- Blast From the Past: Raped Ape - In Ape We Trust Demo
- Raped Ape CD Release Party