A horrible hack


There's a Party in my Mouth but You're not Invited

Year Released: 2011
Format: LP
Label: Coraille
Reviewed by Michael McCann on Sep 8, 2011
Hypothetically, Bob came home from work.

His penny loafers slide, exhausted, side to side along the prefabricated floor of his Buxton outskirts also prefabricated town house. He reaches his armchair.

“What's in the bag?” his wife asks.

“I'm surprised you're still here,” responds Bob, “those flies do get in.”

“Yes,” then Bob's wife skips off to the kitchen... to fix some cheese on toast, or something.

Bob is a heavy set man and wears one of those Daz white white collar'd short sleeve shirts to make him look more professional, less like an ex-convict. In reality it emphasizes the fact. He slumps into his armchair, an old fashioned, beige 70's era chair that probably used to be part of a suite back in the day. THE GOOD OLD DAYS, EH!? Surrounding him are other items and things. Useless tat.

Eventually one of his freckled 10oz fists plunge into the orange sainsburys bag depressed at his side. He pulls out the following items: one cricket bat; a copy of the radio times; a Kenwood 3-speed turntable and some speakers; a season four boxset of Desperate Housewives on DVD; the Cosmopolitan good sex guide March 2010 supplement; two broken and horrifically stained desk lamps; finally, an LP of There's a Party in my Mouth but You're not Invited by the Germanic band Sissters. He is curious, though not bi-curious, (he'd kill you for even the mere thought!) upon surveying the defaced and churlish looking is-it-a-lady-or-is-it-a-man that is on the cover. Regardless, he wants to have sex with it, and he could, given the opportunity.

Bob decides to set the record player up next to one of the many 32” Beko LCD TVs at the corner of the room. It was a bit of hassle as the nearest extension lead available for use was over populated with various other plugs - mostly belonging to old bread making machines. Almost completely unaffected and with nil anticipation he removes the wax from its inner and outer sleeve. He places it on the turntable and it begins to play. The funky and groovy opening chords makes the hairs on the back of his hands stand up, though albeit briefly. He is not sure what to think, if anything. He thinks he's not bi-curious. Defiantly not bi-curious.

Bob was expecting Sissters to sound like Rammstein. He doesn't think they sound like Rammstein or any of these other bands; Shellac; Ex-Models; The Birthday Party. Maybe a teensy bit like Shellac and Birthday Party, although for very brief fleeting moments. It's not really distinguishable. It doesn't really matter. Perhaps that's a good thing though. If anything it's somewhere between those aforementioned bands and the more 80's gothy bands like The Pop Group (were they goth, who knows?) and early Cure, but respectively less funky and less suicidal. He's never heard of any of these bands before anyway so he can't quite put his over-sized sausage finger it. The vocals are characteristic of something else that he can't put his sausage finger on either. He dwells on it. Oddly they are double tracked and reverberate all over the shop! They sound pretty gay. But Bob expects every band to sound like Rammstein and is bitterly disappointed when ultimately it doesn't turn out that way. Unless he's listening to Rammstein.

“Rammstein are the best band on the planet!” Bob exclaims.

Later into the night, several shit stained lamps glow and Bob finds himself more receptive to the mood of the album. It certainly achieves a strong atmosphere and feel. The songs have obviously been considered and thought out carefully as to not repeat themselves too often and they make SWIFT progress into different ideas while retaining the style. There are some very good riffs which present themselves throughout - like the breakdown in Ready Means Ready to Roll or the bit after the intro of the roll means ready to rock rock song that is Cool Cat Alliance. There's many more and they're all suitably stabby. “Those vocals though,” Bob thinks! Lines like “I'm tired of false commitments” and “We've got half a bottle of gin left.” are prominent but don't seem to hold any real weight. There's some ginger overdubbing done here and there to compensate for being a two piece or to add a few extra layers which is effective but still Bob can't quite get past his own masculinity. He's sure these kids were getting something out of it that was wasted on him. He'd fucking kill them all. CHEESE ON TOAST! His thumb quivered inches away from his anus until his wife interrupted.

“We have a laugh, don't we?” She says.

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