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 San Francisco’s beloved Mummies, kings of budget rock and the driving
force behind the early ‘90s anti-compact disc campaign, defy all
expectations once again with a second CD after 2002’s reissue of their ’92
LP Never Been Caught. Death By Unga-Bunga!!
compiles singles the band released through their frenzied,
toilet-paper-strewn career on a variety of 45s and compilations, now all
largely lost to the general public and fetching beaucoup
dollars on the used and vintage markets. For longtime Mummies fans
who didn’t have the extra dough to get every single platter they released,
this is the perfect gap filler for an incomplete collection, even if it
lacks garage cred (whatever) due to its digital format. First timers who
only heard legends about the Mummies during their initial run will
find this a near-perfect introduction
to their bargain basement sound. The disc kicks off with the instro
“Introduction to the Mummies,” which launches itself out of speakers
on an explosion of cheapo guitar fuzz, shrieking organ, and trashcan
drumming, and that remains the rule of thumb for the next 21 tracks—loud,
proud and dumb.
There’s a couple of variations on the theme—the sinister Billy Childish
drone of
“(I Should Be Lookin’ For) Dangerman,” and the Sir Douglas-Crescent City
groove
of “Die!” are notable exceptions—but for the most part, the Mummies’ formula
is
frathouse stomp of Nuggets/Pebbles plus New Bomb Turks’
chucklehead punk whomp equals two-minute ass-kicks like “(Doin’) The Kirk,”
“I’m
Gonna Kill My Baby Tonight,” “(You Must Fight To Live) On the Planet of the
Apes,” “Stronger Than Dirt,” and a fairly straight-faced run through “Zip A
Dee
Doo Dah.”
Actually, the secret to the Mummies'--success?-- is probably best summed up
by
the title of one of Unga Bunga’s best tracks—“Food, Sickles and
Girls.”
The Mummies’ music is all about indulging your base 16-year-old urges—eating
burgers, drinking cheap beer, watching monster movies and late night TV,
telling
fart jokes, looking at teenage tits, and making a lot of noise. It’s
important
to tap into that vibe every once in a while—if Dr. Phil was cool, he’d call
it
feeding your inner dumbass, and this CD is the self-help book to get in
touch
with him. See what he’s up to this weekend, why don’t you? And while you’re
at
it, get him to tell you where you hid all those Amber Lynn pornos and
Beguiled
45s. Those things are worth money now.
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