They’re poppy without being derivative, literate without being pretentious, Jarvis Cocker has that sexy-nerd thing happening like no British musician in years.
A near decade’s worth of Old Scratchibilly rock from Northern California’s porno-psycho-horror revivalists The Hellbillys is neatly crucified on this disc.
The lyrics are funny, hip, irreverent, and really the only kind of lines that could be delivered with any credulity, given lead vocalist’s limited range.
A big, stoned, Sunday afternoon of an album which inserts an eggbeater into the brains of the blues, cranks the handle, and serves it with a side of ‘shrooms.