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The Finger, "We Are Fuck You/Punk's Dead Let's Fuck"
One Little Indian
Someone needs to tell the rock stars who like to listen to punk thatlistening to it does not qualify them to play or record it. The Finger,whose double album is only available on import but will soon beavailable on these shores, cannot record under their real names due tocontractual obligations. However, recent interviews and coy commentsmade by Ryan Adams and Jesse Malin reveal them as two of the cohorts inthis punk ensemble. So, to avoid problems with their respective recordlabels—who might not take kindly to their mild-mannered signings comingout with a blistering punk album—the members adopt "clever" pseudonyms,such as Jim Beahm, Warren Peace, and Rick O'Shea. The music inside isjust as trite as the names they came up with. Both albums total about35 minutes, and feature probably the most trite lyrics a punk recordhas ever had. On "Vendetta," vocalist Beahm shouts repeatedly "Vendettais my pleasure!" and on "Collar," he emotes "I give... you my leash...and I'll keep the collar!" Even though it seems impossible, it goesdownhill from there, like the latter 95 minutes of any Luke Perry film.Not that all punk had deep and meaningful lyrics; hell, most of themyou were lucky if you understood a word. On this recording, it justshows how painfully out of their element the contributors are. Everysong is about the punk lifestyle, not the regular socio-politicalstance or vital satire shown by the Sex Pistols or the Buzzcocks. Everysingle song falls flat, so thankfully they're all very short, with mostlasting a minute or less. A word to this lot: if you're going to ripoff a genre, even for fun with your buddies on a weekend, make it anearnest take, not some half-baked album about the atmosphere you thinkexists around it.
Someone needs to tell the rock stars who like to listen to punk thatlistening to it does not qualify them to play or record it. The Finger,whose double album is only available on import but will soon beavailable on these shores, cannot record under their real names due tocontractual obligations. However, recent interviews and coy commentsmade by Ryan Adams and Jesse Malin reveal them as two of the cohorts inthis punk ensemble. So, to avoid problems with their respective recordlabels—who might not take kindly to their mild-mannered signings comingout with a blistering punk album—the members adopt "clever" pseudonyms,such as Jim Beahm, Warren Peace, and Rick O'Shea. The music inside isjust as trite as the names they came up with. Both albums total about35 minutes, and feature probably the most trite lyrics a punk recordhas ever had. On "Vendetta," vocalist Beahm shouts repeatedly "Vendettais my pleasure!" and on "Collar," he emotes "I give... you my leash...and I'll keep the collar!" Even though it seems impossible, it goesdownhill from there, like the latter 95 minutes of any Luke Perry film.Not that all punk had deep and meaningful lyrics; hell, most of themyou were lucky if you understood a word. On this recording, it justshows how painfully out of their element the contributors are. Everysong is about the punk lifestyle, not the regular socio-politicalstance or vital satire shown by the Sex Pistols or the Buzzcocks. Everysingle song falls flat, so thankfully they're all very short, with mostlasting a minute or less. A word to this lot: if you're going to ripoff a genre, even for fun with your buddies on a weekend, make it anearnest take, not some half-baked album about the atmosphere you thinkexists around it.
