Some call it skank rock. I call it lo-fi fucked-up laidback slackerrock. And it's brilliant. The Moldy Peaches are the best band you'venever heard. This album made me elated beyond all hope of coming back.It was a journey I'll gladly repeat if I should ever find my way home.Like the lo-fi Belle and Sebastian, Kimya Dawson and Adam Green craftjuvenile songs that are strangely catchy with great melodies andtwisted lyrics. And they're fun-filled, too! Mostly acoustic guitar anddrums with vocal trading and intertwining between Dawson and Green, allbadly recorded with lots of static, the Moldy Peaches' album ischock-full of youthful exuberance, adolescent angst, and bizarrehappenings. Songs end abruptly because the recording just stops. It'sjust a strange listen. There's even a ridiculous rap moment. And theycover "Little Bunny Foo Foo." It's just plain great. Often I laughed,because of the ridiculousness of the lyrics, but it's all incredible.It's a bit like the car accident you can't help looking at, but moreentertaining. There's really not much more to examine than that, thoughpsychologists would have a field day with those lyrics. Here's asample, from the album opener "Lucky Number Nine": "Bloody Mary Motherof God/Grampa's on the hobby horse again/Dampened broken pantschaffing/I'm running out of ethnic friends." Even when they approachoffensive material, like on "Downloading Porn With Davo," it just comesoff sounding like people singing about things just to try and provoke aresponse, or nonsensical gibberish set to music. Either way, you'lllove the result. If you don't, then who cares? These burgers are crazy.
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