Ha! See! I toldja Holy Molar's a real band! But y'all didn't believe me! Naw, busters were like, "Uhhh, it's just a one off!" "Uhhh, that prison tour was faaake!" Well friends, there's a real, live Holy Molar outside that very door about to scream and prance and honk your big-ass nose all over Disjecta's totally-not-ready "stage"! So WHAT if they lied about the whole prison tour thing? And so WHAT if they stole their keyboard sounds from Marvin the Martian cartoons?
Listen, I believed in the Molys all along. When they said they were gonna tour prison facilities, I was right there goin' "MAKE IT FREAKIN' HAPPEN!" See, I'm like that mopey dude from The X-Files: I want to believe. I want hoodwinking and mystery and a little good ol' fashioned theater.
Still, the band could care less. They totally hate us. Says singer Mark McCoy, "We don't want to touch anyone's soul. This is for us!"
Word. On record, his vocals sound like barking dogs or cheerleader chants. Who can tell, really. And McCoy's got no problem with that: "Try and sing along to one of our fucking songs," he taunts. "Fat chance, looosers! I make sure I sing words that couldn't have any importance to anyone, because choruses are for schmucks."
Word, again. The rest of the music squirrels along, led by keyboards which conversely sound like bonka bonka bonka bonk!, or wah wah waaah wahwahwahwahwahwahwah! Both equally refreshing squalls of squelchy gibberish. Both medicinally liberating--as only brutal noise or, say, Joe Millionaire reruns, can be.
What about XBXRX and Ex-Models? The lemon next to the pie. Don't like lemons? Tough taters!
Sorry I've been such a dick. I was just funnin' you. But so is Holy Molar! So, it's all good! We're all pals! Right? Mark, you guys don't really hate us, do you? Mark? Where'd he go? Hey, anybody know where the... singer... guy... went? Oh, man. This sucks.