Bloodhound Gang are, in a way, from a certain angle (like behind a closed door), evidence of the cliché of the boy that’s too smart for his own surroundings and so instead collapses in on himself, channelling his surplus attention into puerile taunts and quick wit. Oh, and fart gags. Endless hours of fart gags. Just think, if they’d all (or at least obvious ringleader, Pop) been moved up a class 20 years ago we could have been spared all of this and instead had another fully-manned IT helpdesk in Philadelphia. On the other hand they’re just infantile good-for-nothing 30-somethings locked in stained frat-boy y-fronts, with no redeemable merits. There’s support for both perspectives, but common sense definitely has an opinion here.
They’re what Goldie Lookin’ Chain are actually like. You know, if the cultural references that we all smugly acknowledge, like some wretched bond that just can’t be broken, are at best thin on the ground, then what’s left? Fart gags, basically. “If you cover your ass with the same old song/You might as well be farting with a walkman on”. See. “Cut like a jalapeno popper fart/Burnin’ up an asshole that once ripped apart”. There we go again. “If I wanna be repeatedly shit on I’ll go make Dutch porn”. And someone always has to take it too far. There is a lyrical cameo for David Brent though, so perhaps it’s not just Jackass re-runs and flatulence around Chateau Bloodhound.
There is nothing here to come close to their one justifiable moment in the mainstream – 2000’s sly beat-driven humour-pop homage to primitive sex ‘The Bad Touch’ – though ‘Uhn Tiss Uhn Tiss Uhn Tiss’ sounds like a discarded demo for said hit. The cultural nous that accompanied the mother album (ahem, ‘Hooray For Boobies’) and that summer’s festival dates is also largely absent. Their bread and butter remains as crusty nu-metal or no-brainer punk, but Jimmy Pop proves he’s not entirely disconnected from cultural relevance (well, MTV circa 2002) by making single ‘Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo’ sound like The Strokes sharing a tune with the Barenaked Ladies. Yeah. We need say no more.