John Waters' Pink Flamingos: At the end of one of the raunchiest non-porno films ever made, a coifed Divine chomps on a big hunk of dog shit, gleefully. It is a giant train wreck, grand and disgusting and compelling, and the pinnacle of 70s raunch. Stockhausen was close, but no cigar: an obese drag queen eating dog shit-- now that's pushing some boundaries.
But should the stultifying actions of the mondo bizarro elite be resurrected? Oakland's Gravy Train!!!! seems to think so, along with a cache of nu-raunchers from East to West (all sporting hymen-chilling monikers such as "Splitmewideopen" and "Fudgie & Fufu"). Gravy Train!!!! pay some kind of homage to their booty-bass predecessors J.J. Fad, tingling cowbell clad in pink spandex and lyrics executed with the baby sass of ladies eager to self-actualize. And then, like Divine, they desecrate all tangible boundaries of taste, demanding, "Lemme see those titties bounce!" over teen karaoke keyboards, supersonic cadences getting busy with Mad Magazine, and a weird innocence, which isn't easy when you consider this band's status as three ass-exposing hooches and a homo.
They nasty, though, and they won't let you forget it. On "Hella Nervous", which is rapped surprisingly well (considering), the homegirl calling herself "Chunx" rhymes: "Suckin' my muff like a vacuum cleaner/ She doesn't have the titty/ She doesn't have the ass/ She doesn't have the thick-ass Mexican thighs that I poss-ass." On the instrumental "Pussy Thrusts (Exercise Demo)" (trend alert #2: fitness-related dance numbers), a beat only slightly less progressive than Parappa the Rapper's driving instruction demo is accompanied by instructions for a floor-humping dance move.
On the whole, Hello Doctor's beats and synths operate on Las Vegas time: more is more, 'round the clock-- and the band gives it to us in blinding excess, three or four simultaneous melodies often trumped only by the absurdity of superfluous and misplaced drum fills. The Gravy Train!!!! M.O. isn't quite clear, other than the perpetual reminders that its members are "filthy little slut[s]" who "like to take it in the mouth." The lyrics tend to be vague assertions of maximum hoochietude, with occasionally funny moments. But it's certainly not great music. Actually, it's more akin to the soundtrack from Dig Dug at a minithin-friendly 190 bpm. But like Divine's glorious shit-eating grin, Gravy Train!!!! are quite the raunchy, gaping spectacle; its terribleness is trumped by its incredible disregard for human decency. Which makes it kinda funny.
