Trophy Wives + True Blood = Ofcourseandwhynot?

So this is what’s been on my mind since last Sunday night’s episode of True Blood…

I’ve been listening to Trophy Wives’ new elpee Old Scratch (Love the title… if’n you don’t know who Old Scratch is, you need to read more Mark Twain AND I guess you didn’t get that part of the pet dog joke that South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone inserted into the introductory segments of the Season One DeeVeeDee set. ButI’m not gonna explain all that here, you’ll have to look all that up for yerselfs) and their brand of ballsy ruckus would fit PERFECTLY in some future True Blood episode.

Lemme ‘splain.

When Trophy Wives rev up, they sound as badass and potentially threatening as a motorcycle gang looks in yer rearview mirror when yer behind the wheel of a Prius. They roar like the mighty Motörhead, but maybe just a bit smoother — a little more nuanced, not quite as punishing — but every bit as hairy. Trophy Wives singer Billy Bisig has an entire larynx. Skinyard, however, who stomped forth from the towering pines of the Pacific Northwest nearly two decades ago, were the first band to enter the game of comparative analysis my brain engages in.

TROPHY WIVES SOUND LIKE A HUNDRED RUMBLING BIKERS. That’s why it is now my goal to find a way to work them into True Blood, at least for one show. That wolf pack — all those long-haired werewolves in their flannel and leather and jeans and boots, standing around an inordinate number of trash cans filled with shit that burns perpetually, smashing each other in the face with empty bottles of bourbon — those doods would LOVE having Trophy Wives play their next pack picnic or whatever it is that they call those things. I can totally see it because the band would have to be badass, and Trophy Wives are badass a’plenty. Vampires, they’d book Muse for their fancy party, but Muse wouldn’t last five minutes at a werewolf bash… they’d get pelted with rocks and garbage. Trophy Wives, I’m convinced, would be made honorary wolf pack members.

I CAN SEE THIS HAPPENING. All I gotta do is get a meeting with Alan Ball, and get a copy of Old Scratch into his sweaty hands.