Cute name. Seriously. I’d rather see bands naming themselves after fun quotes from Mel Brooks’ movies any day instead of calling themselves some combination of dark, angsty words that really make no sense when put together. So the band gets points right off the bat for being named after a quote from Blazing Saddles. Sadly, those are the only points that this band will get throughout the course of this review.You know Lemmy? That guy that can’t sing from Motorhead? Combine his no-talent ass with an even less talented version of The Ramones who don’t do anything more than ape some basic Circle Jerks riffs, throw them against the wall alongside some laughable punk-ized Beach Boys and Red Hot Chili Peppers moments and you’d have Candygram for Mongo shooting out your stereo speakers. It’s like this band decided to listen to all of their favorite CDs, take the lamest parts of each one, slap them together, play it half-assed, record it, run it through Garageband on their home iMac, and sell copies of it at the local Legion on Friday nights.
There is no denying that this band is basically emulating their influences and trying their damndest to make a good tune, but there isn’t anything even close to maturity to be found in these simple, forgettable, and lazy songs. Yes, surely the band put a lot of time into creating this CD, and it is no doubt their baby, but when it comes to listeners spending their hard earned money… it’s just not worth it.
Save your money to buy a couple of $5 tickets to the local punk show for you and your lip ring sporting girlfriend. You’ll be glad you did.
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