Since the introduction of the CD I’ve had a tendency to refer to songs by their track, “I love number 3 but man, number 8 kicks ass!” I don’t know if I paid more attention when music was on vinyl or if it was the 45 that spotlighted a given song, but it’s still a challenge for me for the whatever reason.
Sometimes song titles have no real relation to the actual song and are created through a ‘pulled out of the fucking style’ formula. Not so with the tracks on Crimes. From “Trash Flavored Trash,” “Love Rhymes With Hideous Car Wreck” or “My First Kiss At the Public Execution” better represent the dirty, naughty, spank my booty and shake-my-head-till-my-brains-fall-out type of mentality of the Blood Brothers newest spurting romance.
It’s frantic, it’s prophetic, and it’s an assault on your very being. And yes, “number 8 kicks ass!” This is a V2 debut for the Bros., and it is one hellova coming out party, complete with Jello wrestling and scary clowns. A stalking organ chord chases psychotic vocal man Jordon Blilie on “Peacock Skeleton with Crooked Fingers,” a dusty truck stop beat licks a giant size Catholic school girl lollipop on “Rats And Rats And Rats For Candy,” and a chunky shot of rockets red glare lights the sky on “Live At The Apocalypse Cabaret.”
Is there a message behind Blood Brothers’ madness? Absolutely. But you gotta pay attention while you’re ripping your best air-guitar, or at least until your mom gets home. Watch The O’Reilly Factor, E! Channel’s breaking story Nicky Hilton’s marriage, and party representatives spinning our heads around after each presidential debate, then hit repeat on their single “Trash Flavored Trash” and you’ll know mean.
Me personally, I’ll take this madness in place over the other any day.
