Review ·
The Grand Ole Party, where Karen O meets the Munsters theme and they both meet Grace Slick in the depths of her worst opium dreams. The lead singer, who only goes by Kristin, may put it best in “Look Out Young Man,” the first track from Humanimals: “I must be the devil’s daughter.” More likely, her musical parentage as a singer comes closer to Robert Plant than the Dark Lord, although given Jimmy Page’s predilection for the dark arts, it’s entirely possible that the two are one and the same.

The purpose of Humanimals seems to be to get you off your feet, presuming you aren’t already sitting, hurriedly discussing how absolutely hip this show is with a Pabst Blue Ribbon clasped dangerously close to your thin black silk tie. The sharp pitches thrown off in “Nasty Habits” stab straight down the spinal chord; the zoot-suit drawl of “Dirty Spirit Rag” would incense any bar-room crowd. The entirety of Humanimals, in fact, serves no better purpose than to entice us to see if Grand Ole Party delivers on its promise outside of the constraints of the studio. In that capacity, it’s what most albums want to be: a circle of plastic that generates ticket sales and fills seats.


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