Now here's the part where I risk sounding like a complete moron: is this the
same green-haired stretch pants-wearing Bob Xark that got me stoned and
bought me a hoagie nine years ago in Huntington Beach? If it isn't-well,
according to the "Special Thanks To" section, we know a hell of a lot of the
same people, and these are the people I know through "my" Bob. So I don't
know.
Problem is, the Bob I knew was really into the whole punk rock/guitar rock
thing and probably would have made fun of this disc, which is mostly
badly-recorded electronic music paired with a guitar that kind of sounds out
of place, like someone playing along with their radio.
The spoken word/lyric part of this is mostly funny and highly political, but
also really hard to make out, which is too bad, because "my" Bob is one
funny motherfucker and, from what I could hear, this one is, too.
by Holly Day