
“Club Love” has a good rhythm to it that’s cheapened a bit with too much electric fuzz; “Let’s Microwave” – though an apparent live favorite – is filler, raucous for the sake of being so but lacking a case for the idea that a song can be great despite mediocre lyrics, and “Blues (Dripping Down My Leg)” is a heavy blues track that breaks down unexpectedly into a Latin bridge and then bounces back.
“Parasited Out” is a quickly paced pop song that sounds rather reminiscent of the Soft Pack (who, perhaps coincidentally, have a song called “Parasite”), and yes, the likeness has been suggested elsewhere. No two songs here are alike, and while there is no confusion of identity, the record is not consistently rough as with their live presence. They get tons of Gun Club references, but what they don't have is a leader with frantic energy, wailing as though his life depended on it (though, hell, anyone looks overly stylized next to Jeffrey Lee Pierce). But everything about this band is so damn likeable, and they could certainly make an excellent case for a live record. Step two.
Slang Chickens - Tropics
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