Hometown: New York, NY
Adam Hertz can kill a man with just one note. His interns are renown the world over for keeping you on life support just so they can put it on their resumes. Born on the Bayou, which means Kangaroo’s Toenail, he was raised by a group of male chickens and a crocodile named Scott.
His music is an amalgamation of Tuvan throat singing, the mating calls of southern Baptist penguins, and the cries of a newborn hammerhead shark. Hertz learned his craft studying biochemical engineering at a Kentucky Fried Chicken in western Latvia. He lost his limbs in a drive-through accident, but they grew back on their own after watching an episode of Perfect Strangers…..
Hertz doesn’t speak English, or any language for that matter. He doesn’t speak or sing the blues – he is the blues. He first realized this when a female friend told him she was going to get a few Dr. Peppers from the fridge and never came back, leaving him in state of perpetual sadness. Fortunately, his tears have been known to cure severe cases of syphilis….. Forget about the world’s best blues musicians – Tiramusu Timothy, Gluestick Gregory, Spicy Tuna Roll Rachel – their times have come and gone.
As the President of Canada once said, “Adam Hertz smells like guacamole and cheesecake.”
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