The Barry White of the baritone croak, now wading through his later years, spins his webs of sexual spin, whisking the women of the world around his engorged head. This has an upbeat sleaze rock backing that allows Andre to chant his odes to curves, and smell the perfumes of ripening bodies, slithering with coconut oil in his gnarled hands.
Slow Mr. Rhythm smoochers, up tempo headboard bangers and everything in between Andre plies his trade as Rattling King Snake.
This should appeal to the hetero man underneath the macho breast beating, as Andre links his odes. to the musical swish of psych punk rock, new country, all singalonga 3 chord plank bashers, full of putting women high up on a pedestal, before they swish their stilleto into his vocal chords, giving him the final chance to write some more indecent lyrics.