Jan 12, 2010

Flipper has once again shaken off the dirt of death and risen up—this time with assistance from former Nirvana bass playing giant Krist Novoselic—to discomfort the world with more of their sonic elephantiasis. Ten new apoplectic, apocalyptic dirges pustulating with more ennui and existential ooze than all the fidgeting hamburger that was ever in John Paul Sartre’s head. These are the lullabies of an autopsy; an autopsy that’s somehow turned into a Hermann Nitsch performance, where the entrails are hung on the walls like garland and warm and rubbery vital organs become unspeakable sex toys. Back in the early ‘80s, Flipper was obviously a dissonant deconstruction of punk, but now it might be more accurate to say that they’re a dissonant deconstruction of post-punk. It’s dirty work, but somebody’s gotta do it. My only gripe with Love is that their dadaistic sense of humor, exemplified in classics like “Ha Ha Ha,” “Brainwash,” and “The Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly” sadly seems to have been packed into the urn along with the remains of Will Shatter. And Flipper without their absurdist humor is like a thalidomide baby without a clown nose. Hopefully the twisted sense of humor will grow back like a happy little tumor in time for the next album. What’s important now is that Flipper is back and primed to jerk the chains of all sanctimonious punks everywhere. And I, for one, couldn’t be happier.

 –aphid (MVD audio)