What, he’s still around? Jim Thirllwell inflicts on us again his cliché-ridden faux-serious (“as cancer, as subtle as a heart attack” – he actually utters that) rants and overbaked fright-chording. His music was fun and scary once. But the only fright I had here was more of a cringe, that the poor guy toils away thinking there’s something he hasn’t said yet that needs to be said. Um, no. OK, maybe he’s just putting us on.

1. Ooh, harpsichord-y touches but of course, he gets all bombastic with swirling synthesized strings … because that’s what he does
2. Did someone lose the bass track when mastering this thing? It wants to be bombastic (what else?) but it’s missing this key ass-kicking element; maybe we should blame the remixer, but then again, the remixer didn’t release this CD
3. For those familiar with the Foetusly ouvre, this is the track where he goes all jazz-lounge and croons poorly over lazy strings and horns
4. Perhaps he just needs to shut his trap; this rollicking and wide-ranging ditty is fun for once, with unhackneyed samples