While some critical acclaim and complimentary comparisons to art punks like The Yeah Yeah Yeahs have been given to Merrill Nisker of Peaches, her crude vocals and lyrics lack the originality and vitality of other bands in this genre. The oversexed, androgynous Canadian’s second album FatherFucker is a trashy romp through the audio trailer park. A tourmate of Marilyn Manson, her desperate attempts at shock rock are more annoying than they are controversial. The album begins with a whiny version of Joan Jett’s “Bad Reputation,” here titled “I Don’t Give a…” It cannot be called a cover, as it is nothing more than Nisker singing along and adding more curse words. She shouts with the enthusiasm of a fifth grader that has a newly acquired vernacular of obscenities. Listening to the song is like being in a car with an obnoxious friend that likes to sing off-key to the radio. Unfortunately, the immature novelty of expletives does not wear off with Peaches, as they continue to inundate listeners throughout the entire disc.

If the constant stream of curse words doesn’t get to you, the repetitive lyrics and mundane instrumentation surely will. I was disappointed by the collaboration with Iggy Pop on the track “Kick It,” which I had hoped would redeem this sloppily assembled album. The phone sex-esque dialogue between the two was written by Peaches with him in mind, but the track leaves little room for Iggy to showcase his skills. The album art is filled with blood and nudity, which, much like Peaches’ music, is reminiscent of a B-Grade movie. While the artist does have a camp appeal, the music is an unimaginative product of a dirty mouth and mind.

If Peaches’ lyrics and stage show antics were not surrounded by controversy, it would be easier to recognize the complete lack of quality in the music. It is not catchy, skilled, or unique, and definitely not worth spending your money on.


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