Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
The band's name alone suggests a potential futility.
It's the thought that there's no way we're getting by without some real issues. You're not getting by or around and I'm not either. We're stuck with our limitations and there's no shaking them. The limitations are a bit exaggerated here, with the thought that we're all fit with hooks, not the standard hand that's normally known as the default appendage growing out of the end of those stumpy, jointed arms that almost all of us get upon arrival. You can picture the parodies of Captain Hook trying to dribble a basketball or trying to sleep on a waterbed. You can just imagine the number of things that need to be considered before reaching for anything, before hugs, before pouring a jug of milk or shaving.
We All Have Hooks For Hands, the seven-piece band from Sioux Falls, South Dakota, sing about the dark parts of the light, of love's crimes and still they reserve most of their energy for dancing on light, for feeling as if they're filled with it, as if it's widely available. They look at the silliness of existence - how it more than occasionally doesn't make any damned sense - and then they realize that there's a party in that understanding. It's a reason for tossing carefulness out the window and just wrecking all of the dark shards, incurring whatever cuts and scratches that might come along with that. They like to sing about maximizing life, about taking those second chances and creating thirds. They seem to always rightly feel that whatever they're having to deal with is better than the alternative. It's better to stay alive. They sing, "Life's a joke with no punchline/But you're alright, yeah you're alright. Somehow, they make the futility seem somewhat dreamy.
We All Have Hooks For Hands Official Site