Using electronic percussion, sheet metal, and pop culture destruction, Jim Thirwell produced an album as humorous as it was self-destructively nihilistic.
Juicy funk groove. The vocals are great, but I hate deliberate lo-fi recording, especially for lead vox. The guitarist is interesting and an individual.
Still sound like a one-band Nuggets compilation. No rock operas or introspective acoustic doodles, just fun, fun, fun ’til Daddy takes the Far-fisa away.
Vocals are strong and expressive, the lyrics depict tales of heartache, blind drunk stumbling, and smoking cigarettes. The guitarist tosses in sweet soloing.