My girlfriend likes this record. I don’t. The Coathangers are “quirky,” an adjective that seldom bodes well with me. The Coathangers have a Mika Miko-like oscillation of female vocalists, and riffs reminiscent of Kleenex/LiLiput (whom I love more than my mother). They also have lyrics about Tonya Harding and “haters.” I have a deep reverence for Louis-Ferdinand Celine, the greatest hater of them all (a combined misanthropy greater than W.C. Fields and William Burroughs COMBINED), so it makes sense that I hate on this record. Anyway, only the Stooges’ Funhouse, Kleenex/LiLiput’s Kill Rock Stars collection, and the Young Marble Giants’ Colossal Youth are of interest to me right now. So buy this record. Buy tons of them. Black Friday has passed us, but massive consumption of this record is encouraged. Go skeet shooting with your extra copies and buy more. Who knows? Maybe in ten years this record will line Salvation Army bins like Kenny Rogers records. A revolution of ephemeral material—started by me! Manifestation dada!