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Other Providence News
- Somebody hose these guys off
- Leadership mum on meetings with governor on deficit
- Tax Rankings
- Green Jobs for the Future?
- Dead Flowers: Redux
- Tonight: A Christmas Carol at Trinity Rep in Providence
- Long wait for help on R.I. unemployment phones lines
- Officials at VA groundbreaking laud improved care
- Ear Whacks
- Update: Honoring a courthouse and a senator / Photos
- One opens, one closes
- Gordon Arnold: A cynical legacy of JFK assassination
- R.I. getting back $62M from frozen fund by Jan. 3
- Man sentenced to 10 years in jail for heroin trafficking
- Strengthen the Working Waterfront
The closest band to compare Coughs to would have to be a Swans / Butthole Surfers choice blend — mustardy relish on top of an atomic crashing corndog bomb of discontent. This six-piece wrecking crew fronted by Anya is an atomic bomb; she has a voice like a possessed saxophone being strangled in the best way, and some of their songs are about popping pimples, and bunnies running down the slope to keep their lucky feet. They’re from Chicago. One time I saw her jump inside of a trash barrel — she was bleeding everywhere, they turned over all the tables and chairs, dry humping the club. They have dark powers. 
