Adam Parfrey

Arockcalypso Culture

A Sordid Evening Of Sonic Sorrows - Man's Ruin 1997.
Rating = 7

Say, you're smart. Let me ask you something. If you were a computer programmer - a HIRED computer programmer - HIRED to put together an Apache server system, am I crazy or shouldn't you actually KNOW something about the Apache server? So I'm sitting here writing this review for NOBODY because the wizard engineers at Yahoo can't figure out why I keep getting the same goddamned error every single time I try to sign back up for the Geocities Pro plan. If you're reading this, I guess something worked out but chances are that I'll be long since dead by that point at the rate we're going. So I'll speak to you about this album from beyond the grave.

Boo! HA! Didn't mean to scare you. That's right! I'm dead! Been dead for quite some time, thanks to a deadly strain of the AIDS virus that I picked up from an email attachment - remember to update your Norton's! If I can tell you ANYTHING that will help lengthen your life, it's simply that: Update your Gorton's. Bad Fish = MURDER.

A long, long, long time ago in the early oughts, Adam Parfrey was a world-famous publisher of books under the "Feral House" brand. He was also an established writer/editor himself, unleashing such dark venom upon the underground youth as Apocalypse Culture, Apocalypse Culture II, Cult Rapture, Apocalypse Rap Culture, Rapocacult Lypseture and The Apocalypse Cult Featuring Ian Astbury. But who knew he was a recording artist? That's right! ME! I'm in Heaven - everything is fine! You've got your good thing and I've got a stinky rotting sore where the rabid bobcat bit me to death!!

Although I can't listen to this disc anymore because I'm dead and maggots have long since devoured my ears off, I seem to recall it being basically a novelty record, wherein MISTER Parfrey and his friends from Poison Idea and Non work together to create mostly funny/occasionally tacky newfangled renditions of hit records by such diverse entertainers of the day as Black Sabbath, Lou Reed, Les Baxter, Blitz, Roxy Music and Steppenwolf (doing a Hoyt Axton cover). Now me, I'm hoppin' good enjoying the Parf's angry hardcore barking ("No Rule"), quivering big-eyeballs crazy quaking ("Paranoid"), bored tuneless Lou Reed imitation ("Kill Your Sons") and William Shatner dramatics ("The Pusher"), but for some reason I get a little twinge of discontent racking my bones as I listen to him making fun of the mentally retarded in "Rubber Room" ("Wubba Woom") and "Quiet Village Idiots" (retarded kids making bird noises). Both were taken from a THREE- RECORD sick joke that Adam had going with Boyd Rice (NON) under the name "The Tards." There's just something, oh I don't know, INCREDIBLY UNFUNNY about making fun of people who are disabled through no wish or fault of their own. Not that I particularly LIKE being around the differently-mental, but I feel sufficiently sorry for them to not go around singing in a dopey voice and thinking it's funny. Therefore, I am Adam Parfrey's moral superior. Thanks for stopping by for my meeting.


As for original tunes, one would think (if one were inclined) that a man like Parfrey (Adam) who has met so many bizarre folks with violent, selfish philosophies or brilliant conspiratorial ideas would be able to write some really kickass lyrics. And you'd be thinking correctly. Unfortunately, there are only like four originals on here. :7( "Race Riot"? Totally non-PC and hilarious! "The Juggernaut of Entertainment In Contemporary Life"? Well okay, that's just a laundry list of pop culture names and words, but it still makes some kind of statement. "What If They Gave A Love-In And Nobody Came?" Uproarious Barry White parody! "Nation Down For The Count"? Creepy and obsessive! He also does a parody of Blitz's "Someone's Gonna Die" called "Goldstein's Out Tonight," but I have no clue who Goldstein is so, as Prince might say at the beginning of his hit single "Let's Go Crazy," you're on your own!

Sorry if my thoughts seem haphazard. I'm busy, as Prince might say at the beginning of his hit single "Darling Nikki," masturbating with a magazine. Wait just a second while I, as Prince might say in the chorus of his hit single "Come," come.

Musically it's all varied and supervaried, veering from sludge metal to hardcore punk to exotica to soul to weird sampled insanity and back again. And there's this adorable photo inside of a horsey and a doggy that looks kinda like my doggy Henry. If you're cool with funny cover tunes, this is the CD for YOU to buy as a birthday present for your little sister so when she doesn't want it, you can keep it. However, if you think that music is a serious affair that should be treated with sober respect and no joy whatsoever, you should buy Ray Stevens' Boogity Boogity. Take it from me. Because I'm dead. Even though I forgot about that whole concept pretty close to the beginning of the review.

By the way, wouldn't it be cool if I really DID die a couple days after writing this? Dude, you would be FREAKIN'.

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