COFFIN CHEATERS, THE: Porno Serial Killers: CD

One of the things successful writers always say is that you never want to write about something you don’t truly know about. But I’m going to break that rule right here and state that I think the Coffin Cheaters’ music is the aural equivalent of a blumpkin. The word “blumpkin” is a slang term for the scato-sexual act of receiving a blowjob while sitting on the toilet taking a shit. Now, I’m not just saying this because I’m afraid my Mom might read this someday, but I have, in truth, never experienced a blumpkin. So I’m sticking my neck out here a bit, comparing the Coffin Cheaters to a blumpkin. But I think it’s a safe gamble. In fact, I probably wouldn’t be too much off the mark to spice it up even more by saying it’s like GG Allin getting a blumpkin from El Duce. The fact that those two guys are now rotting corpses has nothing to do with the simile – the Coffin Cheaters’ music is anything but dead (or homosexual, come to think of it…) This is macho, meaty, bruising porno-thug punk complete with missing teeth, b.o., and a loutish insensitivity to anything even remotely politically correct. This is the kind of music that has patches of bristly body hair in spots that have no business being hairy. Porno Serial Killers, unlike their previous 7″ offerings, captures the full metallic wallop of their live sound, which is something like a cross between Nine Pound Hammer and the Meatmen. Be forewarned: this disc is oozing with an indelicate sense of humor that’s bound to leave prissy tight-asses seething. Fundamentalist punks who find things like the Exploited off-putting will choke on their lattes when Porno Serial Killers enters a room.The Coffin Cheaters play scum-humping blumpkin rock deserving of all the white trashy, pit-stained perks that go along with inclusion in the Confederacy of Scum. Antiseen take note.

 –aphid (Sell Your Soul)