I enjoy this album immensely. I shouldn’t. It is way over the edge and beyond any line of what is tasteful in music and art. At least, that is what I used to think. Now all these images of “debauchery, drugs, and profanity”, pumpkin fetishes, “Rock and Roll Blimps”, and sexy robot girls are repeating in my mind. The music, singing, and production are basic primitive folk with early Dylan-like haunting melodies. The lyrics are racy, dirty, scatological, almost pornographic, tasteless, and zany. Reluctantly I must admit, this album is also incredibly funny. Years ago I listened to the Fugs, the Holy Model Rounders, and Wild Man Fisher; they also had me laughing on the floor. What does Fangbaby sound like? Remember Superman comics and the alternative coexisting universe “Bizarro World”. This is like a Bizzaro World folk duo of Bob Dylan and Captain Beefheart—low gravel vocals, amusing lyrics, and catchy songs. But here societal values are upside down, inside out, or backwards—lo-fi productions, warped sensibilities, and deranged lyrics are most valued on this world. This album is unique and not for the weak-hearted or delicate sensibilities. It should not be played for Kay Bailey, Tipper, or First Lady Laura when she moves back to Texas—laws might get passed. But listeners, if you think you can take it, listen to this album. It is a classic of it’s kind.
(Dr. T of The Art Punk Band).
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