I must confess, if the title Fear of a Pink Planet had come from any other source, I'd have
dismissed it as another whiny, woe-is-me anthem.
However, coming from Craig Manga's Modwump, the title bleeds an old-school, in-your-face projection. It’s unapologetic, feisty, with hymns for those who feel the urge to protest, whether their shells be soft, rough or a smidgen of both.
The intent is amplified in the title track, with an old-time
blurb from a fear-the-queer, classroom reel, followed by a mean explosion
that rattles the senses with its anti-pop gyrations.
Nevertheless, the rowdy vibe isn’t across the board, making room for a swift progression, as represented best by the crass “Aliens Probed Elvis”, where extra-terrestrial know-how gets a much needed tutorial in hip-swingin' fun, but for flavorful darkness, nothin' can beat the parental bite of "Bela Lugosi's Dad": a tune that spurts of pure, parental fright.
That same nippin' vibe can be found in “Bingo Stole My Baby”, which is as fast-paced as it's chaotic (and identifiable to anyone who's lost some endeared, Australian trinket). “Krautmaskreplica” is also an equally meaningful mate: a kind of alternate theme for “The Munsters”, but where the clan is nowhere near as wholesome. Still, my favorite among this borderline, mod-culture cluster is “Sons of Sams”, though perhaps not for its presumed intent: It’s gun-based, but more so freedom-fueled, precipitated by a terrific Chuck Heston speech that gets one ready to fight for anyone's stomped rights.
That same nippin' vibe can be found in “Bingo Stole My Baby”, which is as fast-paced as it's chaotic (and identifiable to anyone who's lost some endeared, Australian trinket). “Krautmaskreplica” is also an equally meaningful mate: a kind of alternate theme for “The Munsters”, but where the clan is nowhere near as wholesome. Still, my favorite among this borderline, mod-culture cluster is “Sons of Sams”, though perhaps not for its presumed intent: It’s gun-based, but more so freedom-fueled, precipitated by a terrific Chuck Heston speech that gets one ready to fight for anyone's stomped rights.
Other tracks take on a sweeter, electronic
delivery. "No Methane", the album’s opening entry, spews a swell
layer of syrupy despair: the kind of sublime lament that one might engage while prancing in a mosh pit. "Spider
Vagina" is its inviting companion piece, presenting sex with dire consequence.
(One must enjoy even when authority condemns.) "Downward Doggin" plays the same game: dark, hard and brightly dreary. It’s a blanket for one’s
outcast state and a shield to block all those bigoted rocks thrown one’s way. “Skinner
Box” becomes the behind-the-scenes armor to that shield: a cushioning costume for slicing and dicing, as
the piercing rhythm cheers one on.
Though these aforementioned entries perform with varying zeal, it might be those frantic, automated ones that the listener remembers best. “Better Than Sexface” is the perfect
cruising at rocket-speed example, whereas “The Butterbusk Catgut Trading Co”
and “Tranny Europe Express” are the rebellious bumps and grinds. “Taming of the Shrooms”
umbrellas the latter three, planting further demonic seeds to foster Modwump’s
epic angst.
There's even more than the aforementioned to be found in Fear of a Pink Planet (powerful remixes galore) if one dares to indulge. The album is wide in scope and at heart, pure punk. It never once buries its head in the sands, but rather pokes one in the throat, in hopes that one will poke back.
Slip Modwump's belligerence on for size at
https://blackboxrecordings.bandcamp.com/album/fear-of-a-pink-planet?fbclid=IwAR3uk5MBis1jHy2WSaRSLbc0td2CNRrigLit1Xa5eDAov-cLYpbZYt0cHQo.
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