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Five hale and hearty chaps, known collectively as Lords of Wong, provide their particular take on the popular genre of rock and roll with great enthusiasm. Hailing from the gutters of Brisbane’s West End, Australia, the band consists of persistent stomach complaints, pharmaceutical abuse, broken cigarettes, abnormal alcohol abuse, co-morbid pathological personalities, and a sprinkling of existentialist angst. Somewhat unfairly, Lords of Wong have been described as, ‘…the closest thing you can get to a donkey show without P.E.T.A. getting on your back.’ But they have class, damn it! They’ve scraped themselves off floors, out of gutters, and one time from the bench seat of some busted Valiant, and man, they looked fresh. They have played some shows and wrecked some shit (mostly themselves) and had a grand time doing so. The doctors say their frontal lobes are charcoal, their ears are beyond help, and their blood is mostly methanol, but they only care about their souls (they were all