In 2016, the world got two big-screen adaptations of Rudyard Kipling novels. Just three years ago, Eli Roth revived and updated the “brown cannibals eat white interlopers in the jungle” subgenre of exploitation cinema that was popular in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s. From Timothy Dalton’s brooding colonial explorer on Penny Dreadful to the upcoming remake of Jumanji, there are already so many “woe the ‘White Man’s Burden’” and “watch the jungle terrorize innocent white children” stories to go around. If fiction isn’t cutting it, one can even turn to the pseudoscientific racist rhetoric of the alt-right movement. “But it’s just not enough,” you might say, adjusting the small, porcelain phrenology head on your desk. “I need more stories about how natives are small-brained savages with silly customs, dumb-dumb languages, and a lusty hunger for white flesh!” You thoughtfully finger your framed photo of the Hottentot Venus, and continue, “What’s more, I need those stories to be set to music! Grating fucking music! Music that sounds like a crusty folk punk drank too much Old Crow and magically Pleasantvilled themselves back to the cultural and musical landscape of 1950s America, equipped with little more than a ukulele, a maraca, and a sound effect library full of monkey noises.” Do not fret, intrepid flouter of the evil Thought Police! Professor Hugh G. Reckshun is here with a new single to satiate all of your “I’m not racist! Come on, it’s just a joke!” desires. –Kelley O’Death (Greasy, [email protected], greasy.storenvy.com)