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Ace Troubleshooter
 You're here » Song Lyrics Index » A » Ace Troubleshooter

Ace Troubleshooter Lyrics

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Ace Troubleshooter
Genre: Punk
Official Web Site


Ace Troubleshooter Bibliography: (click on each album cover to view tracks and Ace Troubleshooter lyrics)


Back In The Shootin' Match (1996)

Don't Stop A Rockin' (1999)

Ace Troubleshooter (2000)

The Madness of the Crowds (2002)

It's Never Enough (2004)


Ace Troubleshooter Biography

How do you tell the story of the mountains? How do you catalogue the vastness of the oceans? How can you capture the essence of the sun in all its glory? How, I ask, do you write the history of a band with the magnitude, the overwhelming humongousness of Ace Troubleshooter? It won't be easy, friend, nor entirely truthful, but by trying we might learn a little about Ace and perhaps even a bit about ourselves along the way.

The year was 1995. The setting: a small, backwoods summer camp in America's heartland. The forecast: mostly sunny with a 90% chance of rock 'n roll. Dewpoint: 59. Little John Warne, fresh off a destroyer with a dance belt and a tube of chapstick, was seeking a refuge after going AWOL from his Navy Seal training. He didn't prove up to the task of swimming with 60 lbs. on his back, getting little to no sleep or food, and practicing international anti-terrorism. No, sir, he had music in his veins, not The Man. So, seeking sanctuary after months of giving the fuzz the slip, John sidled into Cabin 9 to get some well-deserved rest.

It wasn't long before Josh Abbott, pit manager of the local Nascar track, sensed that someone was relaxing. His stressful job had wound him to so high a pitch that the merest sight of r&r sent him over the top in a fury of incoherent sputterings. Taking him by the ear, he thrashed John behind the cabin, then gave him a guitar and shrieked "PLAY!" And play he did. Sparks flying from the fretboard as John hammered on, then off at lightning speed, Josh's heart was melted and Ace Troubleshooter was conceived.

Across the country in Taxachusetts, Toby David, friend and ally of farmers in need, was helping needy farmers. Toby had taken an interest in the cause when the aforementioned state in which he resided became dangerously close to producing no pineapples. Zealot, patriot, ("maniac" his critics called him) he was never one to let a pineapple go uneaten. Nor was he too good for an ol' fashioned hoedown. Toby had year by year climbed the ranks from "cowbeller" to finally "picker" of one mean banjo, I mean guitar. It wasn't long after this installment that another, more important installment would be made. Seeing the fame of Hoedown Pete (Toby's moniker), Josh and John resolved to woo him with as many tropical fruits as they could fit in the bed of Josh's pickup truck. The scheme worked, and thus Toby was ensnared.

Joe Krube, local pinball shark and bass player, proved more elusive, however. He had been working his way up and down the coast (of Lake Mille Lacs, MN), sheisting money and yo-yo's from his pinball victims. It was on the way back from their journey in the East that the three Ace boys fell victim to Joe's hussling ways. After hours of "The Addams Family" pinball played at Joe's favorite Picadilly Circus, Josh was down $40, Toby down three bananas, and John was down (gasp!) his lucky Pro-Yo. Needless to say they were in dire straits. Crippled and disappointed after their loss, they rolled into Minneapolis with a firm resolve to master the sport and win back the spoils. It took the boys three (count em, three) years to muster the ability and confidence for another showdown with Joltin' Joe. They arranged a final showdown with him at the scene of their defeat. The terms were Ace's and were thus: If Joe lost, he must be in Ace Troubleshooter; if he won, Toby, Josh, and John couldn't not be in a band with him. Joe accepted the challenge and again utterly defeated them, so they consented to being in a band with Joe.

That about brings us up to speed. I know I'm not doing the band justice or displaying the hugeness of the group as it ought to be displayed, but I hope that at least one hundredth of the majesty of the rock that they produce is shown here. They deserve that much at least.

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