FLESHIES: The Sicilian: CD

Me gusta. About ten seconds after Johnny Polymoniker knocked my glasses clean off my face (but right into my hands, thanks) with his swinging microphone, Dan Monick said, “These guys are like the Cows and Iron Maiden.” Dan Monick takes a lot of pictures for this magazine. He’s insightful. I try to keep my glasses on my face. Then that got me to thinking. Perhaps, for future reviews of Fleshies, I could just mix a great AmRep’y noise band with a heavy metal band that had at least five good songs and that’d be the review. Slug and Judas Priest. Kinda works. Take weirdness, give it focus, heaviness, and catchiness. Mix in one or two no-interference, fuck-yeah punk gems (like “Rosa”). Kerplow! Fleshies! Only it’s better. What works so well in their favor is that their albums and EPs (get the futbol one) neither ever get too stupid-trippy nor wank-a-thonic. Although I do suggest this record, I do have complaints. Are the lyrics written on fuckin’ microfiche for the CD? C’mon, Alternative Tentacles, give ‘em a couple more pages so I don’t have to be reading, what, two point font. Secondly, whomever put the athletic sock over Johnny’s microphone for this recording should stop doing that in the future. He sounds muted. Complaints aside, as it stands, Fleshies are a delicious cross of Melt Banana and Motley Crue. See? It sorta works. Sorta. Go see ‘em live with glasses firmly strapped.

 –todd (Alternative Tentacles)