I don’t know what to say about this madness. To begin with the LP jacket has Khan and BBQ (Mark Sultan) skipping down a street in a photograph that looks a lot like the cover of Freewheelin Bob Dylan. Khan is wearing a Kaiser horned helmet and BBQ is wearing a winsome little shit eating grin. Then, you open up the album cover (it’s a double, or almost double LP, more on that in a moment) and they seem to have spent some time devising some sort of bizarre ass dating board game. I haven’t played it yet, but I think I’m gonna. Then there are some weird photos of Khan in white-face lookin’ like a crazed George Washington and Sultan in black-face lookin’ like a fat faced Screamin’ Jay Hawkins.
If you have read this site at all you know I’m down with Khan which is why I bought the album to begin with, Sultan’s work I am less familiar with, I only know he has been in a bunch of garage bands up north for years. I figured this would be a good bet and it was. The whole thing is a train wreck of lo-fi doo-wop garage stomp oddness. That’s really the word as these three sides (three sides because they left the fourth blank, I have never seen that before) are odd as hell. It’s like if the Pagans, Hasil Adkins and The Chips met and made an album together. Its weird and these cats have more shtick than I traditionally like, but the shit rocks and is compelling as fuck, so what do you want? I can forgive them some oddball theatrics.
I don’t know how Montreal created these dudes and this sound, whether it’s the biting cold, potent and plentiful dope or the unremitting Frenchness of the place but Ima keep buying pretty much whatever freaky sleaze rock these gentleman see fit to put out.
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