Superhoney by Superhoney: A Funk-Fueled Punch to the Ears
Alright, let’s get real here. Superhoney isn’t just another late-90s throwaway album—it’s a gritty, soulful slap in the face that somehow got lost in the shuffle. Released in 1998 under Moxxy Records (ever heard of ‘em? Didn’t think so), this thing bleeds funk, R&B, and rock like it owes you money. And yeah, I know—it’s kinda wild they named both the band AND the album “Superhoney.” Like, what are we, bees? But hey, once you dive into this groovy mess, you won’t care.
First off, let’s talk about the lineup. This ain’t some garage band with two chords and dreams; these cats mean business. You’ve got Joan Pimentel-Flynn on vocals—she’s got pipes that could cut glass but smooth enough to soothe your soul. Then there’s Doug Sherman ripping guitar solos like he’s auditioning for Hendrix’s ghost, and Scott Watson holding down basslines so thick you can practically chew ‘em. Oh, and don’t sleep on Sean Nelson’s percussion—he’s out here sprinkling magic dust all over every track.
Now, onto the tracks themselves. If I had to pick one that sticks with me, it’d be “Taste My Wine.” Holy hell, this tune is straight fire. It starts slow, almost teasing you, then BAM—Joan comes in with those sultry vocals, laying down lyrics that feel like she’s daring you to keep up. The horns? Insane. Jeff Galindo on trombone and Scott Aruda on trumpet go toe-to-toe like they’re settling a bar bet, and trust me, everyone wins. By the time Paul Schultheis lays into his keyboard solo, you’ll wanna grab someone by the hand and spin ‘em around the room like an idiot. It’s raw, unfiltered energy packed into five minutes of pure bliss.
Another standout is “Super Duper”—and not just because they slapped an extended version on there too. This track hits hard right from the jump. Dean Johnston’s drumming sets the pace like he’s running from the cops, while Pete Levesque’s alto sax wails in the background like it’s begging for mercy. What makes this song unforgettable is its swagger. It doesn’t ask for attention—it demands it. When Joan belts out the chorus, you better believe you’re gonna sing along, even if you sound like a dying walrus. That’s the power of this jam right here.
Sure, the album has its weaker moments—tracks like “Wait For You” drag a bit—but when it shines, it REALLY shines. Listening to Superhoney feels like finding a hidden gem at a thrift store. At first glance, it might look dusty and forgotten, but once you give it a shot, you realize how damn good it is.
Here’s the kicker though—why didn’t more people hear this back in ’98? Was it bad timing? Bad marketing? Or maybe, just maybe, folks weren’t ready for something this bold and untamed. Whatever the reason, Superhoney deserves a second chance. So crank it up loud, let it rattle your windows, and thank me later. After all, life’s too short to listen to boring music.
