Drew is one of those artists, like Slash and Flea, who can get by with having just one name, he’s that saucy. Sometimes known as Kompressor or Dog Traders, the King (pronounce that “kang”) of geeky comics is Crudbump this time, and I can forgive him the ugly, diaper-rash moniker only because NA$TYJAM$ is the funniest damned album I’ve heard in a long time.
Rapping about the suburban geek life (I don’t know if he lives in suburbia, but IKEA smacks of the suburbs and yeah, he sings about that as well as Oprah and feet — not all in the same song), his material’s the stuff of ordinary life — with a likable, synthetic twist.
“Take a Number” launches listeners into Crudbump’s world with “Take a number / Get your hand out the M&M bowl… / If you think it’s mean that I’m rationing my dragées / You can write me an essay / And when I call your number / You can read it to me.” That’s geek-elite at its most normal, which makes its appearance in recorded music all the more beautiful. Crudbump raps and whispers the insides of smart people’s brains — even if those people are unrecognized receptionists who get their candy ripped off by douchebags.
“My Dick’s on the Phone” is a poignant love song, cautioning the listener to “Chat with the bone… before it goes to voicemail” over bouncy synthesizer and urgent drum machine. “Bass Machine” is super catchy and includes book clubs and Subarus — and there’s more normal-people life on “Expert Chef.” No I’m not going to explain it to you. Google the video.
“Why are you in my bedroom? / Are you Dick Cheney? / Get out.” Crudbump gives shouts out to sitting down, laying down, and typing stuff into Google in the standout track, “I Don’t Do Shit,” which also has a particularly catchy and mimicable waterfall refrain: “The TV is on and it’s a mother-fucking marathon” (trip down that one half-step at a time — you can’t). Competing with it for best song of all time is “Master of the Synthesizer,” an all-out showcase of vocal synth talent. “Don’t even try to touch a Roland / You’ll fuck it up.”
“Girl Take Your Socks Off,” despite its sexiness, is the one track I skip over every time because podiatry is gross. You can listen to it if you want. I don’t want to picture Natalie Dee’s toenails in a jar like that.
NA$TYJAM$ is for the hipster who hates the label, or maybe for the kid who’s read the entire toothpaste for dinner, married to the sea, SUPERPOOP, and NATALIEDEE archives and is still a little bit thirsty for more.
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