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CD Reviews: Review of Hefty Fine by Bloodhound Gang
Thompson Home / CD Reviews Home / Entertainment Channel / Entertainment Web Guide

Click here to buy yourself a copy from Amazon.com Bloodhound Gang: Hefty Fine (Geffen 2005)

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Warning: You will not enjoy this album unless, a) you are a frat boy who still wears his baseball cap backwards and thinks it’s his right to dry hump every female on the dance floor in a nightclub, b) you enjoy staying drunk most of the time on bad malt liquor, or c) you are a 14 year old male. Everyone else, please stay the hell away from this disaster. We have enough problems in this world today. Let’s not make giving the Bloodhound Gang more money for their new CD another one.

Seriously, why are these guys still around? There could be another addition to that warning list that if you’re over 24 years old, you’ll undoubtedly find this shit a complete bore. But this is the problem with novelty rock. It’s funny or amusing perhaps the first time you hear it, but then it’s toast really fast, especially if the joke gets repeated until you’re ready to Hulk out. It’s what is known as Tom Green Syndrome, or Jackass Syndrome, or anything else where you get the point crystal clear the first time around.

It’s almost scary that these guys are almost rivaling a career as long as “Weird Al” Yankovic’s, someone who still hasn’t worn out his welcome. But Al has the advantage of being able to remain topical each time out without resorting to dick and shit jokes over the course of an entire album. Hey, that stuff can be funny, too, but if it comes across as just another goofy-ass CD shit out just like the ones that preceded it, why bother wasting your time?

So anyway, if you’re a fan of the Bloodhound Gang, then you already know what’s going to be on this album. But for the curious, let me go ahead and break it down. First off, you get the we’re-back-and-still-stupidly-offensive song, “Balls Out.” The retarded chorus goes, “Balls out my life is a slut / This dick don’t hit bottom but I fuck the sides up.” Oh Jesus, but that’s too damn side-splitting.

Next there are two songs about sex. These are called “Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo” (Geddit?! Har har!) and “I’m the Least You Could Do.” The former song is just a long list of stupid euphemisms for screwing and ultimately more annoying than Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire,” and the latter is an ode to a loose chick. OK, so where are those laughs anyway? Well, they’re not in the two tracks about shit, “Farting with a Walkman On” and “Diarrhea Runs in the Family,” and they’re certainly not in the moronic grooves of “Pennsylvania” or “Uhn Tiss Uhn Tiss Uhn Tiss,” which is the vernacular for the basic bass drum/hi-hat combo that’s the backbeat of every techno tune. They really think this crap is that funny? Well at least they’re assured of selling a few copies to the dorks who buy their music at Wal-Mart.

But hey, they come up with an original idea for the end and sing about fucking on “No Hard Feelings.” Oh, it’s just too much. Stop the jokes, the laughter is causing tears. Blah. This album gets my vote for “Most Pointless ‘Comeback’ of 2005.” In fact, it’s doubtful that even those 14 year old kids are going to find much lasting enjoyment from this worthless one-joke recording.   

~Jason Thompson 


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