Forth Yeer Freshman

Generally, I have about as much use for campy music as vegans have for a steakhouse. But I'll be damned if Rock Your Box didn't blow my skirt up around my uptight, TV On the Radio-loving ass. If the entire Bloodhound Gang downed a Zeke smoothie every day, with chunks...

By Dave Herrera

August 9, 2007

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Generally, I have about as much use for campy music as vegans have for a steakhouse. But I'll be damned if Rock Your Box didn't blow my skirt up around my uptight, TV On the Radio-loving ass. If the entire Bloodhound Gang downed a Zeke smoothie every day, with chunks of Shat and the Dwarves swirled in, they would still sound like stodgy old preachmen compared to these hoodlums. While other acts navel-gaze, these self-professed "Alcoholic Assholes" scrape the funky resin from their belly buttons and smoke that shit. In roughly the time it takes to drive from Denver to Fort Collins, they tear through a dozen songs about being "Hungry for Your Butt," getting high as a giraffe, sucking and fucking, schooling every band they've ever met and not needing no "faggots writing bad reviews about us just because we got his little girlfriend's panties wet." Against all odds, the Freshman's sophomore effort (slated to be released this Friday, August 10 at Bender's Tavern) gets a passing grade.

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