Rosie — The Smugglers

By Darby Sawchuk

A million mashed cheese doodles lay strewn on the plush-carpeted floor.

Some musclehead is carrying a tank top-clad blonde on his shoulders. She sprays beer around the room while dodging the low-hung light fixture.

The band is playing in the corner and this time they sound a lot tighter, a lot louder. You were at a party in this place a few years ago and these guys didn’t have the same panache. Sure, they had that one tune that repeated "Bishy-Bishy" a hundred times–it was pretty catchy. But, this time around, they’re filling every song with some punch and a hook.

You keep thinking their pop-rock bears a resemblance to the Mr. T Experience, or maybe it was someone else on Lookout Records. Maybe you can’t place it because of the blues influences or it could be those occasional swing fills the bassist likes.

"Who are these guys?" you ask the girl bopping next to you.

Without missing a beat she smiles and shouts, "The Smugglers!"

Cool. You’ll have to come to this guy’s house parties more often.