Local Wire

Jesus H Christ and the Four Hornsmen of the Apocalypse

Go ahead, call them a "novelty act." This nine-member group from NYC is asking for it with songs like "Nipples" (with eloquent lyrics like "Na-uh-na-uh-na-uh-nipples"). But once you've heard "Connecticut's for Fucking," the leadoff track to JHC&tFHotA's debut album, there's no denying this band's snarky brilliance. The song's ridiculously catchy pop beat; dorky, nasal punk vocals (courtesy of the surprisingly sexy Risa Mickenburg); and lampooning of noodling '80s metal guitar solos is like a bubblegum enema flushing pop punk out of mainstream music's bloated colon.

The band's horn blasts and infectious guitar hooks are so upbeat and pop that they sometimes border on cheesiness. Lyrically, the songs are a mix of acerbic adult humor and adolescent silliness. Check out these lines from "Do Me": "I heard your wife died the other day/I want to be the first to say/That I want you to do me!/When I heard she bit the dust/I was oddly consumed with lust/I was dying for you . . . to do me."

Or these lines from "Obviously": "Obviously you slept with that girl from your reunion. I just don't see why you'd deny it. You guys obviously slept together. I don't care. I mean I think she's a skank, but whatever."

So it's juvenile. But people who write off JHC&tFHotA as a female-fronted Ween or a joke band should realize that indulging in skewed ska tunes and punked-up dork ditties is no more ridiculous than waiting for the Rapture, and if you accept Jesus H. Christ as your limerick lord and sonic savior, at least you'll be laughing all the way to eternal damnation.