If there is one cardinal rule within hair rock, it would have to be the following: “Thou shalt never do anything half assed.” So it is exceedingly perplexingly that if locals Fine Red Brown would go to all the trouble of ripping off Motley Crue wholesale, but they would then draw the line at stocking up on Aqua Net and leopard print spandex. The wardrobe choices fashioned for the Too Many Peas shoot are so hopelessly drab that one cannot but help longing for a make-up caked, white-haired CC Deville to return and, well, pick up his guitar and talk to us. Featuring what is quite possibly the worst Prince cover ever recorded in the history of mankind, FRB’s debut CD primarily suffers from an utter lack of comic timing. If your expressed goal is to become a cruder Minneapolis version of Poison, then the least you could do is refrain from cracking yourself up every five minutes. Finally, I heartily advise the FRB crew that a good rule of thumb in the future to stay as far as humanly possible away from schizophrenic instrumentation choices that lean towards “number” status: the “punk number,” “the country number,” etc. The only band in the world that can consistently pull that off is They Might Be Giants. And They Might Be Giants you assuredly ain’t.

– Nathan Hall