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
jthompson@bullz-eye.com
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