By Gustavo Arellano
By R. Scott Moxley
By Alfonso Delgado
By Courtney Hamilton
By Joel Beers
By Peter Maguire
By Charles Lam
By Charles Lam
ORIGINAL BOOTY BURGLARS
10-TRACK SELF-RELEASED CD
The cover of this CD depicts a G-stringed naked ass (female, we presume) stuffed inside a sushi roll, which is being squeezed by a set of chopsticks and is about to be bitten into by a gaping set of teeth (male, we also presume). There are lyrics like "You got your face down in the pillow baby/Got your ass up in the air/I'm poundin' like a bitch in heat/When I slap your derriere," which reads like something Greg Haidl would compose if he started a band. There are odes to self-pleasure ("Touch Yourself"-gee, y'think?), the beach ("The Beach"), rockin' all night ("Rockin' All Night"), trippy bitches ("Trippy Bitches") and dope ass bodies ("Dope Ass Body").
So are the Original Booty Burglars offensive, stupid, or stupidly offensive? And why are we even bothering?
Well, truth is, we can appreciate a jokey/drunky party band as much as anyone-y'know, like Coldplay—and weirdly, we can also indulge in the finer points of the Original Booty Burglars, even if they possess possibly the lamest name ever thought up in human creation. Plus, the name's confusing, implying that there are hordes of other bands running around calling themselves the Booty Burglars, but as this particular outfit declares, nay, THEY are the ORIGINAL Booty Burglars, and all other "Booty Burglars" are merely pale imitations, offering up anal sex-themed compositions of severely lower quality.
But listen past the lyrics, and you'll uncover some pretty expert rock & roll songs—some grand '70s metal riffs here and there, and lots of catchy, stick-in-your-skull melodies spread generously out over the course of 40 minutes, all played by real people (or at least their pseudonyms—"Jerry Curl?"), using real instruments. "Shootin'" is a credible Cramps imitation, while "Rockin' All Night" is passable bar-band blues (and when they say "rockin'," they really mean "fuckin'"). Supposedly they put on a helluva live show, which is probably where these songs work best—turned up to ear-bleeding volume and blasted to a roomful of numbed alcoholics, so nobody has to think too hard about what they're singing about.
Contact: www.originalbootyburglars.com; firstname.lastname@example.org.
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