The Prozacs/Johnie 3
We Should Split (Cheapskate)
by Ewan Wadharmi
This split is the perfect dunebuggy punk three-day holiday for kicking sand in the face of 98 lb. weaklings and turning their goodie-two-shoes girlfriend into a wanton go-go dancer. What more is there beyond slutty women, grinding rails, and dancing? Wait, scratch that bit about dancing and insert rumbling into town with your beatnik motorcycle club to terrorize floral-shirted retirees and confounded local shop-keepers. Both crews operate on high-octane, light-hearted, fun-loving punk that I guess you could call pop in that more asses will be shaken than kicked.
The Prozacs just seem to get faster and funner all the time. And this time, they’ve made off with some poor sap’s woman and forced her to sing backup! She sure adds some class to the place, but I’ll bet they don’t put the seat down for her. There’s an innocence amid the silly snotty songs about Jennifer Aniston and destructive pets, but they’re not above spitting some vinegar. Like the clown that’s crying on the inside, “Around” observes, “Makes no sense to follow your heart/ when everything just falls apart.” And as Springer’s audience urges, “Go to Oprah!” I do appreciate how they sneak genuine sentiment into the mix without bringing down the festivities like a piñata full of kittens.
While the Prozacs thank Darlington, Johnie 3 can’t help but put in a good-natured jab at him in a thinly-veiled send-up, “Christy Brigitte Darlington.” OK, so it’s not a bit veiled, but let’s hope he can take as well as he dishes when they claim, “He’s got a 24 hour erection/ the girls he dates, he’d prolly get an infection.” Extra propers go out to precision drummer KC (make up a last name). When you can envision the guy bashing away at that velocity, he’s done his job well. Lively tunes and plenty of that landing gear guitar scraping lower your wall-flower inhibitions.