Oh me, oh my. I've tried with this album, I really have. Everything it hopes to be is just what I was after, but so little follows-through. It's like trying to take a big dump when you have to be somewhere and don't have much time, but only manage to squeeze out a little few squitters.
Musically it is fine. Sludgey, dirty, heavy guitars and simplistic yet satisfying riffs. And whatshisface's voice: some may hate it, I like it.
One of the main problems, for me, is that the opening track is just too good. Such an audacious album opener, let alone career opener, full of beautiful imagistic lyrics spanning much of the 20th century, wry and affecting. Actually, this track sums up much of my problem with the album: after the brilliance of the first part of the song, we get irritating and cringeworthy harping about "Starting a band, man." It happens throughout. Next to penetrating, witty and often vicious lines there are awful, embarassingly bad idiocies. It's a shame. Like rain on a new haircut. (I, incidentally, need a haircut.)
So, it is almost good. Almost enjoyable. Almost good enough to make up for its multiple flaws with its not so multiple successes. Just not quite enough. When the lyrics are on form this is a compelling record, engaging like a good short story, gritty or something. I hate that word. When it's bad it's like listening to a mid-life crisis wearing leather playing a flying-V, a combover wilting under a cheap, flickering spotlight.