..The birth of The Transonics was like any other birth, full of hair and blood and meat , a brutish mass of guitars and drums, screaming and bawling to be heard. Cutting their teeth on a Pete Townshend power chord and synchronizing their pulse to the run-out groove of Revolver, they grew into a band alive with the redemptive power of rock and roll, abandoned of all worldly pretense and stripped down to the barest elements of chord, harmony, and power. With the bristling energy of post punk wisdom, The Transonics play with the fervor of a Saturday night sinner who knows he'll be dead before the repentant dawn. However long they are with us,
L o n g L i v e T h e T r a n s o n i c s
