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PFFR |
 Snoop
Dog slurs out a stony intro to this loony record, and it’s about the
most lucid moment on it. PFFR (which I’m guessing is pronounced
“Puffer”, but really, it’s just a guess) are a clandestine (some would say
secret, others would say, uh, shady) group of Brooklyn based narco-psyche-funk
freak brothers (and sisters) who mix up robot disco and slacker-soul and
electro-clash and fragmented hip-hop and other assorted bits and bytes of
random weirdness to create sexy, disorienting ‘songs’ about blowjobs,
death, and Jesus. Do the Flaming Lips know how to dance? If they
did, and if they were still psychotic young men with Charles Manson
fixations, maybe they’d be sorta like PFFR. Only PFFR have
chicks. And Snoop Dog. Which makes ‘em cooler. Anyway, it’s plenty
fucked up, Jack, that much is certain. Stacey came in while this
was playing and said, “Jane, get me offa this crazy thing!” which, as
usual, pretty much says it all. File under “Cartoon space music for druggy
hipsters”. PS: This is an enhanced CD, which contains two videos. However, my PC doesn’t even know how to run them. You may need an outer space computer to watch. I bet they’re freaky. ______________________________________________________ |
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-Sleazegrinder |