No praiseworthy themes in this 51-minute stream of consciousness.
“My Brother’s Wife” appears to be about a man lusting after his sister-in-law. “Birds” can’t soar above its own dismal outlook on life, convinced that “you’ll always end up on the floor wasted.” After describing a possible gender-bending sixsome, the monotone vocalist bemoans that a man was shot in the leg instead of in the head (“Pepper”). “The Lord Is a Monkey” refers to God as a primate, and goes on to tell of a woman with “dope up her a–” who castrated a man and sewed his testicles to his head. Disgusting. But how much more should we expect from a band whose cover art features a rendering of a pencil penetrating a human ear? [digitally altered here]
Psychotic musings or drug-induced absurdity? Hard to say for sure. One interviewer described this cryptic novelty act as “one of the most depraved, tasteless and thoroughly naughty bands ever.” That, along with the group’s sick moniker, says it all. Don’t let teens visit Electriclarryland.
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