Blind Marky Felchtone grew up in the Ozarks, where Grandpa owned a still and raised a field of corn. But for Felchtone, a rowdy guitar slinger who now calls Seattle home, backwoods Arkansas summons other golden memories: the Benton County Speedway, Schmidt value packs and a small house on cinder blocks where a greasy hillbilly named Zeke specialized in homemade ball stub acid. Ah, the simple life. With an equally simple formula for white-trash punk rock, Zeke the band continues in its eleventh year of distilling grime, muck and sweat into a highly potent, batch of biker-approved embalming fluid. Scaled down to a power trio (with drummer Donny Paycheck and bassist Diamond Jeff Matz rounding out its full-throttle sound), Zeke remains custom-built for speed. Able to clock fifteen songs in under thirty minutes, the outfit pays deafening tribute to sex, drugs and intake manifolds with equal measure -- conjuring the gear-headed rumble of Gang Green, MotŲrhead and Alabama Thunder Pussy. Touring in support of its latest Jack Endino-produced effort, 'Til the Livin' End, Zeke retains all the charm of a restraining order. Gentlemen, lock up your daughters.