You know that protest sign—commonly seen at protests of killer cops and outdated reproductive health policies—that says, “I can’t believe I still have to protest this shit!” You know where I’m going with this. The Hip Priests describe themselves as, “The inbred, oversexed, white trash bastard sons of Iggy (Pop), Johnny (Thunders), Lemmy (no last name needed) and Handsome Dick (Manitoba).” While those godfathers are all respectable influences, this album comes off as just boring parody and “boys will be boys” nonsense. For example, “my cocaine cock” and “my girl you’re a cunt” are two lyrics from this album, and I didn’t have to look hard to find them. Really? Punk can do better. Punk has done better. Time to move on. I can’t believe we still have to listen to this shit. Good luck doing pay-to-play for the ‘80s burnouts on the Sunset Strip, Hip Priests.
–John Mule (Self Destructo, selfdestructorecords.com)