In a world where there are no more heroes, the Fleshtones walk the earth like Roman gods. Since their inception in 1976 in Queens, New York, and their sweaty, boozy gestation at legendary venues such as CBGB, Max’s Kansas City, and the storied Club 57— recently feted at the Museum of Modern Art, where their proto-video underground film“Soul City” was unspooled for art stars, glitterati, and a raft of punk rockers who managed to get past the front gate — they have perpetrated their proprietary brand of SUPER ROCK, a frenetic amalgam of garage punk and soul, punctuated by the big beat and unleashed with the spectacular show business majesty which has kept them on the road for over forty years, adored by audiences whose love for them borders on religious fervor.

The Fleshtones were always oddly evolved in a plasma pool of retrograde wannabes — this is band that promises a party of the least-juvenile sort. And that is why they have proudly worn the SUPER ROCK title since they came howling and gyrating out of the gate. They are the rare thing, like the Grand Canyon – no matter how great you have been told they are, when you finally get to see them for yourself, it is actually much better than any hype. Long Live “Super Rock”!