Ames, Iowa — the bellybutton of America’s sober unconscious — and yet here I am again, belly-up to the altar of Alluvial Brewing Company, where they pump out…
By the time DeaD Don’t Die took the stage, The Angry Irishmen was in full-blown apocalypse mode. Tables overturned, bodies moving in a frenzied, beer-drenched riot of sound…
By the time E:W:L stormed the stage, The Angry Irishmen was a tollhouse of the damned—packed wall to wall with manic bodies, beer-soaked degenerates howling like wolves under…
The night was already slipping sideways when American Hole Wizard took the stage of The Angry Irishmen. A duo, just two men—but Christ, they played like a backwoods…
The night began like all proper nights should—scrambling in a loose pack toward the promise of chaos, old friends of Mrs. Jubelschuppen in tow, a ragtag caravan of…
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