When a sweaty moshpit is chanting, "lift your head up high/and blow your brains out," you know it can only mean one thing. No, it's not a Kurt Cobain séance but the return of eternal adolescents, the Bloodhound Gang.
It’s like political correctness never happened when you think back to their "Hooray for Boobies" album. "Man all these explosions reminds me of September 11," jests (foul)mouthpiece Jimmy Pop as balloons are ceremoniously popped all around him. "Kinda makes me wanna run off to Mecca and change my name to Osama."
Um, even that ‘gag’ gets a few groans but he's back on safer territory soon enough. Tonight, it's ok to say the words "jerk" and "blow me" in the same sentence. And yes, you can act like Benny Hill for an evening if you so desire. In fact, they practically encourage it.
Back, but sadly not forgotten, the BHG have never been ones to shy away from the odd outburst. The 2004 model even threatens to get all political, leading chants of "USA sucks" and "Tony Blair can suck my cock." It sounds sincere enough but when it swiftly follows a bout of dry humping and arse slapping, you’re reminded of the late great Bill Hicks, who’d often caveat a serious outburst with, "humour me, I promise to finish on a dick joke."
As it happens, dick jokes are all the rage. Tonight’s early kick-off is due to GAY’s residency in the venue which irks Pop. Still it gives him ammunition for some good-natured gay slurs. “Thanks for coming out so early,” he remarks. “Man, "The Cosby Show" isn’t even on at 8pm. We’ve got to make way for hydraulic cocks.” Tasteless but what did you expect?
Sure, they play some songs. Too many for our liking but what can you do? LAUNCH had the pleasure of seeing BHG at Glastonbury a few years back and came away thoroughly entertained. Tonight however, it's as if they are simply out of funny-practise. Gone are the humorous elongated crowd participation routines and ritual public humiliation. Thankfully there’s some light relief courtesy of a surprise appearance of UK rockers A, who rattle through their 'hit' "Nothing". If only they'd stuck around for a few more.
You see, the BHG have never been about the music so let’s not do them a disservice by labouring on it. Frankly, they labour enough. The new tracks are still sounding very new (read ‘ragged’) and old ones sound simply tired but "Ballad of Chasey Lain", "Along Comes Mary" and "The Bad Touch" – "Porkies" meets "Carry On…" rock-rap minus the 'I hate my parents' rant - are strong enough to rescue even the worst show and duly do.
Once back in the groove, you won’t bet against the Bloodhound Gang bringing a smile back to our faces. But tonight it’s a case of hooray for early curfews.
