Meet The Boston Brew







Don’t let his effortless way of wrangling a bass guitar into sonic submission fool you. The man they call ‘The Revelator’ has endured many a stern tribulation prior to assuming his rightful place as The Brew’s rock-steady bass resonator. Stuff you don’t want to know about. Probably. No one’s saying he once shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die. Then again, no one’s saying that didn’t happen, right..? Chrome-domed ranter and dodgy mover, Howlin’ H’s chequered experience as, variously, New Jersey Mob operative, notorious lounge lizard and “looky-looky” man on the Marseilles docks made him the ideal choice for the Boston Brew’s brand of stylish sleaze and rabble-rousing fervour. Got the Blues in ’98 and, despite several courses of antibiotics, still has them. Out of the West he came, announced by the guttural roar of his mighty hog and with a trusty Bitchin’ Gibson slung across his shoulders. With nary a word he accepted the mantel of resident axe-god to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with his hard-rockin’ cohorts. A Man of Mystery, he is believed to live by night, Righting Wrongs in pursuit of Truth, Justice and Righteous Rockin’.

Discovered in a prayer tent in deepest Tennessee, the Good Reverend was happy to give up his life’s work saving unredeemable virgins from their shame via the “laying on of hands” and instead bring his dexterous skills to the unbridled assault on drumkits in South London and environs in the Lord’s Name. Or was it Satan? We’re still not clear about that…

Photos by Richard Goring