In the history of Rockin bands there has always been great bands. And in the division of great bands has come great great bands and great great great bands. The Full Fudge have been revered as the greatest great great greatity goody goody gerrrrrrrrrrrrreat greaty great 'G' 'R' 'E' 'A' 'T' GARRARRRRRRRRREATTTT GREATEST (x infinity) band ever full stop. So greaty good that a second place has never been mentioned.
Mixing a stubborn cocktail of fast paced crowd pleasing Punk Country Rock with the testosterone of unloved adolescents they are a hard trio to dismiss. Their highly personal songs are fueled with topics that are turning the heads of corpses all over this crazy world. Whether it be armpits, milk, socks or ice-blocks, their innovative poetry has inflamed the hearts of all. And to prove what men they really are, they've never been afraid of wearing their vulnerabilities on their sleeves. At least half of their songs are odes to drummer Jefferreee's late Grandma 'Iris', who tragically died in a freak tractor accident in 2000. Real Men, Real Music.
The future is bright for these hard knuckled control freaks. Rather than writhing in an endless debauched coke and latex orgy with the likes of Sting, or using their billions as toilet paper, it's heads down in their crazy fudge world. There's millions of anxious fans out there who probably couldn't make it through the first minute of their days without the solid and relieving thought; 'The fudge are out there', or, 'Can I have gravy on my rice bubbles'?
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