this is taken from Roger Miller's myspace blog:

"My last 5 days were spent producing the Northampton, MA, band: BUNNIES at Camp Street Studios. A totally fun and completely rewarding experience.
Here's an admission: What gets me excited is hearing things that I never would have thought of (I seem to have an overactive imagination and can think of quite a few new things on a daily basis. There's a Lewis Carroll quote in there somewhere.....). If I can grasp things quickly, it doesn't last long in my "interest" file (unless the soul behind it is seriously kickass....). That's why I"m so happy to work w/BUNNIES.
They opened for Burma a year ago in Northampton, and everyone in the Burma-camp was fully pepped by their behavior. Not sure what label will put it out, but if no one does it proves that the U.S. isn't just in a recession, it's a full-on depression where they can't tell shit from shinola.

"Biographer - please don't mis-spell my baby's name.
Oooohhhhhh: The After People." "

Bunnies were certainly the gold medalist of the evening, sludging through thick dual guitars and brilliant drum maneuvers, with stoner vocalizations. The meat of the set was undoubtedly in their ability to reach blindingly sweet crescendos, pausing to tantalize us and continuing into yet more crescendos that expanded with masterful drum breaks, playing straight through 20 minutes of heavy escalating thunder that seemed infinite in its black depth.

Opening for Mission of Burma
Pearl Street

September 21, 2007

An excerpt from a review by Jennifer Kelly for Harp Magazine....

The next band is the Bunnies, led by a wheelchair bound guitarist and singer Jeremy Dubs, and again, you might think, what ace human beings those Burma guys are to invite a differently-abled musician to share the stage. But again, you'd be wrong. The Bunnies, who used to be the Bennies, have opened for Frank Black and the Pixies. They are not there for your sympathy. They are there to rock, in a hazy, heavy, hallucinogenic way, hitching crushing metal riffs to hammering punk beats and bizarre futuristic imagery. It's like Iron Maiden in the mosh pit with B-movie sci-fi antennas waving around. They bring a collection of gimmicks to the stage — a girl writing geometry proofs in magic marker on an overhead projector, a guitarist wearing a swimming mask, a bass player in silver Mylar cape and a mannequin in a glittery dress, periodically set to spin and throw disco lights on the floor and ceiling. And yet the main trick that the Bunnies have to play is the music, backbreakingly heavy riffs, monstrous drums, shimmering walls of feedback. The show is pretty overwhelming, on its own terms, without the gadgets.

The full article can be seen HERE

We did a cover of the Pixies song 'Alec Eiffel' for the American Laundromat release, 'Dig for Fire: a tribute to Pixies'. Roger Miller from Mission of Burma produced the track, and he also plays the mellotron and guitar. Some other really cool bands are going to be a part of it.... You can listen to our track HERE

here's an article about us from today's Boston Metro.

BUNNIES AND THE JETS

Northampton band changes name, spaces out

Jeff Breeze

    

    Usually when a band gets a big chance, like opening a series of dates during the Pixies' reunion tour, they use that name recognition to carry them to the next level. Instead, Northampton's Bunnies changed their name from the Bennies, and took a left turn into outer space, literally.
    "We're going for a science fiction thing now, futuristic, more spacey," singer and guitarist Jeremy Dubs says. "We started writing new songs that we liked so much. It's not that we don't really like our old stuff, it just doesn't seem to fit with what we're doing now."      
    Citing Philip K. Dick, Kurt Vonnegut, Stanislaw Lem and Isaac Asimov as influences, the band has immersed themselves in other worlds.
    "We read a lot of science fiction and get our aesthetic from those novels," bassist Jack Godleski says. "Some of our songs are macro science fiction about galaxies, and some of them are smaller subjects like individuals. We pretty much changed everything but our name, so we decided to change our name, too."
    With a new backing band featuring drummer Matt Newman-Long and guitarist/Moog player Robert Ives, the band changing their name just sort of happened accidentally.
    "It started as a joke," Dubs confesses. "We had the songs in a file on our computer and we had it under Bunnies. We'd joke around about what if that was really our name. Eventually we started calling ourselves Bunnies. And we started feeling like Bunnies."
    Their connection with Frank Black has existed since Dubs first handed him a tape of his songs back in 1998, and now Black is on the verge of producing a Bunnies album.
    "Really our main goal is just to get an album released," Dubs says. "We've always wanted to make a good album."
    "We want to bridge the gap between experimental and accessible," Godleski adds, "kind of like how Sonic Youth does where you can be far out within the framework of a song."
    The band hopes to carry their music beyond the Pioneer Valley, as playing music is the one thing that Dubs really wants to do.
    "I would love to be on tour," Dubs says. "Basically I just don't ever want to have a day job. I hate working."
    Godleski chuckles and adds, "Jeremy has a lot of advantages ... he doesn't take up a lot of space."
    Dubs, who is confined to a wheelchair due to a genetic disorder called osteogenesis imperfecta, agrees. "I can sleep anywhere."

Those genes not chosen in the lab to create hereditarily perfect lineage are cast-off as waste and begin to accumulate over time.

Many years elapse and the unsavory genetic residue begins to coagulate. It grows. It becomes its own organism, replete with all the chromosones that would have made a baby anything less than a superbeing. First, it seems like a minor nusance. Maybe someone might slip on it while walking down the street. Then it seeps into the water systems, dripping out of faucets and floating in public pools like algae. Then it is everywhere, coming out of the earth and covering the ground like snow.

Word spreads quickly that it is dangerous. If it is metabolized by the human body it can cause any number of reactions ranging in severity from the harmless to the grotesque. Overnight reports of citizens growing a sixth-finger, becoming hunchbacks or their hearts exploding for no reason elicit panic in every corner of the planet. The world as we know it grinds to a halt.

The Human Eeep Kwosh is swallowing the globe. A man sets sail from the sinking city of Venice, Italy upon a vast bubbling sea of disease and retardation.

His hopes for the sun to evaporate the living ocean are challenged by the Human Eeep Kwosh as its level rises, eventually blocking out the sun itself.