Press

CD Reviews:

ASKEW REVIEWS
February 2007 Issue
THE BRAINY CRAMPS- Go to the Beach (Fallen Angel Records) I’ve thought about a lot of things in my life, but until now, I’d never envisioned mailing anyone my cum. Or buying a fish tank full of that same substance. It also hadn’t ever occurred to me to say, “Your cunt smells like a dump” to anybody (even if that was the case). And I’d never before contemplated just how Zen a bi-focal fist fuck might be. So thank you for that, Brainy Cramps. It’s a good thing that most of the 20 tracks on Go to the Beach are neither catchy nor melodic because I’d never be able to get them out of my head.  That said, the delicately delivered “Sense of Security,” a poignant ditty about how getting caught wacking off and being molested by a priest can affect one’s psyche, has been looping through my mind for days. And I’d be lyin’ if I said that “Hey Rick (That Girl You Fucked Last Night Was a Dude)” didn’t totally rock. Nauseating and hilarious. –Ben Hunter

THE NOISE
February 2007 Issue
THE BRAINY CRAMPS
Fallen Angel Records
Go To The Beach              
20-song CD
I shoulda known. Never trust fictional (unfunny) press sheets, or song-by-song commentary in the notes. On first (far too casual) listen, I almost lumped ’em with like, Pajama Slave Dancers, who could certainly write and play, but were ultimately a novelty act. The second time (much more intently), I just wanted to puke. They look well into their 30s, but it sounds like what I cranked out on the crapper in junior high. Except mine was funny. They’re prancing in bikinis on the cover, and the first song is “You Dropped The Soap” (liner comment: “I love fags”). Wacky, huh? That may sound hypocritical coming from someone with a decent collection of music by older goofballs singing about genitals and the stuff that comes out of ’em, but anyone can say peepee caca. There’s an ART to transcending retardation into something irresistible (M.O.T.O., The Burning Sensations, Dr. Frog, etc.), whereas this just sounds geared to common fuckheads. How can it really come down to SONGS, you ask? Mainly, don’t make them merely loud, pointless vehicles for yer awful shtick. Example? Put on Darkbuster’s “Some Cunt Sneezed On My Sub.” Never seen a girl not laugh at that. Then play this band’s “Your Cunt Smells Like A Dump.” I’d pay to see the average reaction to this at a show, but then they’d have my money.   (Joe Coughlin)