The Lazy Cowgirls were one of the few bands in the ’90s still capable of embodying the authentic spirit of the early punk groups. In their feverish anthems, a ritual of self-glorification and self-destruction is celebrated and enacted for the thousandth time—probably the very soul and ultimate purpose of rock music.

The Lazy Cowgirls formed in Vincennes, southern Indiana, near the border with Illinois and Kentucky. By the late ’80s, they had established themselves as the greatest living heirs of the “graffiti” punk school, the lineage stretching from the New York Dolls, through the Dictators, to the Ramones.

Pat Todd, a singer lacking the power and roar of the classics but still able to emulate the inflections of shouters like Meat Loaf and Bon Scott; Doug “D.D. Weekday” Phillips, a fiery, constantly charging guitarist whose personality is simple—just a “recorder” of riffs heard thousands of times, especially Keith Richards’ riffs; Allen Clark, a lightning-fast and tireless drummer, a worthy disciple of Sandy Nelson; and Keith Telligman, a impeccably clean bassist, composed one of the tightest and most effective lineups of the era.

On Lazy Cowgirls (Restless, 1985), acrobatic rock and roll reigns supreme, starting with Anymore, powered by pop choruses and, above all, driven at breakneck speed, reducing vocals to frantic stammering in I'm Talking To You. Raiding the repertoire of the ’60s (Rock Of Gibraltar in the vein of You're Gonna Miss Me) and the ’70s (Jungle Song à la Devo), the Lazy Cowgirls arrive at two dramatic gems, Time and Drugs, built through the classic process of deconstructing and reconstructing stereotypes.

Recorded after their move to Los Angeles, Tapping The Source (Bomp, 1987), their masterpiece, is a revival album with no nostalgia, entirely contemporary, played with a punk spirit even while using ’50s-style music. Their songs capture the vitality and frenzy of adolescent life, from wild garage dances (Can't You Do Anything Right) to pub raids (Goddam Bottle). Yet imitation, plagiarism, and quotation seem to be the necessary catalyst for producing these unassuming little masterpieces. The band proves to be a living encyclopedia of rock music, from Bullshit Summer Song (echoing Danny And The Juniors) to Left (with the riff from Fortune Teller).

The live album Radio Cowgirl (Sympathy For The Record, 1989) was their definitive breakthrough. Combining the speed of the Ramones with the charge of the MC5, the Lazy Cowgirls set the new benchmark for their entire generation.

After the disappointing and unnecessary EP Third Time's The Charm (Grown Up Wrong) and another live recording, the album How It Looks How It Is (Sympathy For The Record, 1990) appeared. Their rock and roll remains explosive and frenzied as ever, with the drums pounding wildly and the guitar swirling so fast that it barely forms coherent riffs. The title track, one of the fastest in their career, Sex Kittens Compare Scratchers, from Johnny Thunders’ punk book; D.I.E. Indiana; the ultra-punk cabaret of the Dead Kennedys; and I've Had Enough Of It, from the 1981 slam dance scene, are true anthems to the glorious civilization of provincial garages—outlets of anger and frustration in which Todd’s big voice seems to scream like a child with no other way to defend himself.
The frenzy subsides only to make way for the epic-toned rhythm and blues of The Long Goodbye (with a nod to B.T.O.) and the power ballad Teenage Frankenstein.
Several more years would pass before they resurfaced: the 10” Another Long Goodbye (Sympathy For The Record) in 1993. Meanwhile, Clark and Telligman had formed the Dizbuster, replaced respectively by Ed Huerta and Michael Leigh.

Ragged Soul (Crypt, 1995) delivers two more classics in the form of I Can't Be Satisfied and Frustration Tragedy And Lies, featuring seismic garage rock worthy of being counted alongside the classics of the Seeds and the 13th Floor Elevators, where their explosive punk-rock energy is unleashed. After a melodic boogie in Who You Callin' A Slut and two stellar imitations of the New York Dolls, Everything You Heard and Never Got The Chance, the first half of the album is complete. There is no respite after these wild rock and rolls, driven by simple choruses, staggering rhythms, and colossal riffs (all familiar, yet rarely played with such intensity). As always, it is a contest to see who can write the fastest, most brutal song. Pat Todd and Doug Phillips show no mercy.
The second half of the album, however, loses focus and unexpectedly slows the pace. The songs become blurry and uneven, and even though the band delivers two power ballads—Now That You're Down On Me and I Can Almost Remember—that Soul Asylum could only dream of, the philosophical anthem Take It As It Comes, complete with blues harmonica, symbolically crowns the album and their career.

Rank Outsider (Sympathy, 1999) is another masterful stroke of madness. Not a Goddamn Thing, Rank Outsider and Don't Turn Your Back On Me charge at full speed, chased by the high octane boogie of Since You Got Here and That Kinda Trouble I Can Use. At the same time, the band relaxes in the bluesy ballad When You Fall, the country lament Your time Is Over and the calm and sad Goodnight and Goodbye. A mature and forceful statement of rock adulthood.

Somewhere Down The Line (Sympathy, 2000) proves that the times have changed for the Lazy Cowgirls. They used to be the most subversive punk band in America. Today they are rock and roll minstrels in the "roadie" tradition. A bit of melancholy and nostalgy tames the fury of Another Lost Cause, Somewhere Down The Line, Cold Cold World, and Lookin' Back (the numbers that mirror closely the visceral style of the past). Elsewhere, the music is coreographed with acoustic, slide and bottleneck guitars and steeped in the blues (the country lament What I Want, the humorous Stripper Blues, the honky tonking Bittersweet Shit) Michael Leigh's slide guitar helps the band open their heart.