More of that twitchy Texan fun courtesy of Bad Sports, a trio of electric Twizzlers whose members also play in High Tension Wires, The Wax Museums, and the live incarnation of Mind Spiders, which means they do one hell of a mean Denton dance. That’s like being caught in the crossfire of flyin’ 45s and hipster quips, and if you’re not ready to get down, you’re at the wrong damn party. Kings of the Weekend, Bad Sports’ second album, pipes a heaping mess of three-chord punk on top of a fluffy n’ fuzzy 60s garage pop cake and sprinkles lyrics about schizophrenia and high school sweethearts over all of it, so chances are you won’t be able to resist the urge to dive face first into this box of 14 mini rock n’ roll desserts and feast on their addictive confection. Outstanding flavours include the sleaze-infused “Off Switch,” the MC5-drenched “Teenage Girls,” and the ego-driven “I’m in Love With Myself,” but the whole batch is positively charged and tastes bad-ass.
From The Heart Attacks to Poison Arrows to Biters, the long road of rock n’ roll glory for singer/guitarist Tuk has been littered with trashy riffs, drug problems, and dead ends. The usual suicide story that sticks to every tight-pant Thunders junkie like a safety pin on a worn out leather jacket lands a lot closer to sad than success, but if the stigma doesn’t kill ya, it can only make you stronger, right? Probably, which is why Tuk hopes his latest bubblegum machine, Biters, will break through the bastard cliches and avoid the inevitable burst that comes when you sink your teeth into the cheap, sticky solution of reckless days and wasted nights. Whether that happens remains to be seen, but for now our springboard is this self-titled EP, and goddamn it if it’s not screamin’ at me like a gaggle of teenage groupies. With the five deliciously catchy glam punk ditties on board here, I don’t know how the Biters are ever going to avoid burnin’ out in the gutter like a bunch of high school dropouts. This is some magic marker mayhem, man, part Cheap Trick power pop, part New York Dolls lipstick rock, and all jukebox jive. If the Biters aren’t the biggest band in the world real soon, we’re all doomed.
“You’re a terrible best friend. You stole my toys when we were little. You poured lemonade on my bed.”
“And now I’m eating your boyfriend. At least I’m consistent.”
Diablo Cody scored a lot of accolades for penning Juno. That movie turned Ellen Page into a mainstream star, capitalized on everyone’s love for the awkwardly funny Michael Cera, and showcased Cody’s hip, razor-sharp writing skills. “That ain’t no Etch-A-Sketch. This is one doodle that can’t be un-did, Homeskillet.” Gold, right? Well, Cody was clearly aiming for the fences again with Jennifer’s Body, which stars everyone’s ultra-babe, Megan Fox, as a sexy, boy-eating demon. I’d accuse Cody of completely selling out, but this idea is so good I’m just pissed I didn’t think of it first. It takes the high school drama chicks go for, throws in the flesh-eating action dudes go for, and puts Megan Fox right in the middle of it all. Shameless, I tell ya, but who doesn’t love a little shame now and then?
Bad Sports
Biters
“You’re a terrible best friend. You stole my toys when we were little. You poured lemonade on my bed.”