Revolting Cocks: Sex-O Olympic-O

Revolting Cocks

Sex-O Olympic-O

Megaforce

 B 

Revolting Cocks - Sex-O Olympic-OHalfway between metal and house music, Revolting Cocks shares both genres’ preoccupation with sex and sleaze. Given Al Jourgensen’s history and love for shock, this isn’t exactly surprising. But after the abrupt dissolution of Ministry earlier this year, it seems bizarre that he wants to return to what, essentially, sounds like a rehash of Ministry’s ‘80s work—albeit with more synthesizers and a lot more sarcasm.

Sex-O Olympic-O sounds more like RevCo’s 1993 album, Linger Ficken’ Good, than their more recent albums and remixes. In fact, Sex-O picks up pretty much exactly where Linger Ficken’ Good left off—same subject matter, same sound, with a renewed level of energy and focus on synthesizers and electronics. Revolting Cocks play with ideas of repetitiveness, relying on samples and heavily processed loops. It’s this more than anything that moves them in the direction of acid house and techno; their instrumentation, heavy on rock guitars and chugging bass riffs, is conventional, but Jourgensen’s chanting and processed screaming, heavily manipulated with computers and effects units, is not.

The album oscillates slightly between electronics and guitars, occasionally slipping too far to one side or the other. It works best when it strikes a good balance between the two, like on tracks such as “I’m Not Gay” and “Keys To The City”—they’re silly and outdated, but listening to them just feels good. Josh Bradford’s lyrics are hilarious and unabashedly offensive, and they contribute to the band’s clown-faced theatre of surreal imagery and relentless, tongue-in-cheek manliness. It may not venture into any new territory, but it never loses awareness of itself, which is why it works. Sex-O Olympic-O makes me feel a little bit better about Al Jourgensen’s mental health, since it proves that he can be silly and fun, and that he and his bandmates can joke earnestly about what is obviously one of his favorite subjects. Just don’t think about how old he is—the lyrics start to become a little creepy when you realize that he turned 50 a month ago.

In A Word: Teeth

—by , November 26, 2008


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