If you went to high school in COOLVILLE U.S.A., then the Detroit Cobras would have played at your prom. Crawling out from the weed-choked lots of the once proud town, The Detroit Cobras whip out ass-shaking anthems to good times, wild times, and the high and lows of L-U-V; you best believe it and you best not mess with it. Blurring the lines between R&B and R&R and soul, the Cobras are THE go-to party band for those in the know.
Singer Rachel Nagy and guitarist Mary Ramirez are the bad girls by the exit doors at the school dance, all leather and heels, sneaking smokes and passing the flask. They have no time for dewy-eyed love songs or girl group decorum; they’ll take care of business themselves with a bat of the eye or an elbow to the kidney. Rachel’s "warm as the half pint ofbourbon under the seat of your car" voice can boom to the back pews (Did we say "pews?" We meant "barstools") and Mary’s riffs let you know that love and good times can be found in the tilt of a hip or at the end of a fist.
