BLOODHOUND GANG

BACKDROP:
White boys delivering humorous insult raps. Clearly, they set the stage and made the world safe for Eminem. Okay, not really. Well before I learned how annoying frat boys are and how much they over-love stuff like this, I was grooving to the BHG. It’s easy to dismiss the band as sophomoric, but think about this. An ultrafeminist I knew in college that hated me for being misogynistic thought they were the funniest thing ever. What point this proves I don’t know. I like stories.



USE YOUR FINGERS:
I’ve forgotten how good this album is. Actually, good’s not the right term to use. Fun would be more apropos. I also forgot how much Daddy Long Legs owns this record. Sure, his mic battles with Jimmy Pop won’t rival Sugarhill Gang vs Furious Five. But look at Jonathan Davis and Fred Durst on Korn’s “All In The Family” to see just how terrible these things can get. This album runs about five songs too long and there’s nothing terribly original about it. It’s definitely no IT TAKES A NATION OF MILLIONS. Hell, it ain’t even PLEASE HAMMER DON’T HURT ‘EM. But come on, there’s a cover of the K.I.D.S. Incorporated theme song. Dumb fun, but Bloodhound Gang never aims to be more than that. That’s admirable, I think.



ONE FIERCE BEER COASTER:
Jimmy Pop is en fuego here, spitfiring one-liners left and right. Okay, some jokes are recycled from USE YOUR FINGERS and some jokes fall flat, but for the most part, this album elicits, perhaps a few guffaws, even after multiple listens. And how many pro-cunnilingus are out there anyway? On the downside, the music gets quite annoying, courtesy of one DJ Q-Ball. Okay, I get that having a DJ was the cool thing to do in the late 90s, but what purpose does Q-Ball serve other than providing annoying scratches?



HOORAY FOR BOOBIES:
Great title. Let’s get this out of the way. “The Bad Touch” is not a good song. Yeah, yeah, everyone loves singing the chorus, but the best joke in the song, the only good joke, really, is the dead-on synth pop parody. This album’s a mixed bag. Musically, the band has gotten better and finally learned to bury the DJ in the mix. On the other hand, the lyrics—the true attraction in BHG—just don’t pack much of a punch. I’m sure Jimmy Pop thinks he’s being clever but at times, even he sounds bored. Example? Okay, here’s one. Chasey Lain was the first pornstar I got into (figuratively, not literally) so I definitely can relate to Jimmy Pop’s desire to eat her ass. But the lyrics are the laziest piece of writing this side of any given Gary Glitter song. Though I must give props for “Mope.” Sampling Falco, Frankie Goes To Hollywood, Metallica and Homer Simpson? That takes talent.



FINAL THOUGHTS:
Holy shit, these guys are still putting out records! Just kidding, I know they had a fourth release, HEFTY FINE. I’m just exaggerating to illustrate the fact that no one really cared. And keep in mind, the title of their song “Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo” is nowhere near as clever as Britney Spears’ “If You Seek Amy.” ‘Nuff said.