Riddled with insightful tag lines like "When you're wit your crew, shit happens," New York's Fun Lovin' Criminals have been kind enough to bestow to us fifteen tracks of trivial bar-band garbage in a stupid case with stupid pictures and stupid liner notes. Crossover of rock, funk, mall punk and bland hip-hop elements characterize a record so forgettable that I had trouble recounting it moments after I suffered through it. What a piece of crap. On its sixth full length, FLC tries desperately to move in several directions. But the finished product is more confusing than looking for lost keys. "Got perverse with the nurse in the maternity ward"? Did someone write that? Crap.
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