Just check out those song titles and you'll know whether this is for you. Each of those 27 tracks pretty much does what it says on the tin.
And despite songs declaring that you should Buttfuque Your Own Face, or telling detailed tales of a Boy With Breast Implants, its not clear that this is an album that set out to shock. If you're shocked that's a side effect. Instead you get the impression of pure expression, created by some kids with very strange thoughts in their heads and zero fear about expressing them. Equally fearless is the songwriting, which recklessly blasts through spare ballads, experimental freakouts, and smashmouth punk rock with equal enthusiasm. These guys just do not give a fuck, think Ween or The Frogs if they were deeply twisted up inside and had even fewer filters.
Which puts this roughly in the same box as the profoundly unpleasant Shaggs album: you admire that someone made this, in theory, conceptually, but goddamn if you'll really feel the need to listen to it other than to know about it. The subject matter, the brattiness, the whiplash pacing, the general sloppiness: it's incredible that anyone could make this, but there's probably good reasons nobody else did 2.5/5
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ReplyDeletein retrospect, ill admit this: if you spent longer writing the review than they did writing the record you're probably doing it wrong
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