Nobody asked for Tojo Yamamoto. That's exactly the point. Named for the legendary Memphis wrestling heel who played villain so convincingly the crowd never knew when to stop hating him, Tojo Yamamoto is a brand new band built from the scattered survivors of Kentucky's 1990s underground—a scene that burned hard, left marks, and never got its proper due.
This is not a reunion. There is no original lineup to reassemble, no catalog to celebrate, no tour to cash in on. Tojo Yamamoto is something rarer: a genuinely new band, formed from battle-hardened veterans of The Mighty Skullhead, Nine Pound Hammer, Supafuzz, Ted Bundy's Volkswagon, Abusement Park, and No Excuse—who came together not out of nostalgia, but because they still have unfinished business with loud, ugly, honest rock music.
Their guitarist, Elwood Francis, is currently holding down the low end for ZZ Top. Yes, that ZZ Top. He is also, underneath all of that, a punk lifer—and Tojo Yamamoto is where that side of him gets to breathe fire. "We're playing simple music that's loud, filthy, and distorted," he says. "These aren't clean sounds. We're throwing down with the raw energy that got us into music in the first place."
Frontman Larry Joe Treadway—Lexington artistic institution, part-time filmmaker, full-time chaos agent—lures listeners into what he calls his "pup tent of auditory chaos." His vocal delivery is battery acid chasing razor blades. His lyrics catalogue middle-aged rebellion, social unrest, and the particular disillusionment that only comes from having survived the underground and watched the world forget everything it taught.
Bassist Will Pieratt's delivery is about as subtle as Godzilla on the Tokyo skyline—simultaneously keeping time and threatening to wreck everything around him, with a danceable low-end groove that nods to early Killing Joke, Gang of Four, and Wire. Drummer Darren Howard is the engine: thunderous, relentless, and technically ferocious in the way that only someone forged in the 90s alt-underground could be.
Together they are making noise-rock for a world that never asked for it. They couldn't care less—and that is precisely what makes them worth your full attention.
"Somewhere along the line, what seems challenging, impenetrable, and off-kilter reveals itself to be brilliantly unique, ornate, and wholly original. Bear with it—you'll get there. The more you listen to Tojo Yamamoto, the more you become indoctrinated into their sonic cult."
— The Big Takeover