The exuberance in the musicianship has never been more tangible, but the real benefit is Spicer’s more detailed lyrics, which accompany the band’s bark with a salty lick. You can hear it in the affable title track, which contains the punch line, “Like some fucked-up bumblebee/ Headed for the potpourri of the ladies room” and in marathoner “Crisis!” which laments the existential nightmare of too many strollers on the sidewalks. There goes any chance of landing that Kid’s Choice Award.
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