Well, the reviews are just a-pourin' in folks...
In the spirit of such infamous heavy metal concept albums such as Queensryche's Operation: mindcrime, Toronto's The G. Gordon Liddys offer us their second opus, Steak on a Kaiser. This intricately complex and detailed journey of epic proportions is a tantalizing and often deeply introspective look into the complex issues of cloning, bigots, racism, marketing tactics, shoes and ankle-fucking. With such a dynamic plot, it helps to have an understanding of the synopsis behind this engrossing story.
The album begins with the very innocent premise of being about dancing and chickens, but the hero of the story, Steve Nibbler (who also appears in the first G. Gordon Liddys album, Space Brains From Outer Space), a Marketing Cop, tangles things up by creating a footless clone designed for slave labor and is sent to a compound at the edge of town to find out why people haven't been buying shoes. By the tumultuous, dramatic end of the CD, Steve has tangoed with zombies and confronted his clone. As expected, not a dry eye will be found in the house with such a gripping story.
Or perhaps The G. Gordon Liddys are complete and total loons, as Steak on a Kaiser goes a long way in proving. Guaranteed to evoke laughter and giggles, this CD is similar to They Might Be Giants being cloned by metal fans and fed massive amounts of bad crack. The band describes themselves as a "punk/metal/ska/polka" band at their website and really, they're more of a bizarre comedy outfit. The songs, often sounding like low-fi, metallized Residents material, are broken up with spoken words and "acting". The character of Steve Nibbler sounds an awful lot like someone doing a Phil Hartman impression, while self-effacing humor is draped over the entire proceeding. The music is extremely tongue in cheek, copping metal riffs and warped musical sensibilities all the while. The CD will probably become a novelty, joke album, but it does provide some actual laughs along the way. If nothing else, you get a nearly fifteen minute guitar solo appropriately called "Guitar Wank-off #47" that is followed by a brief medley of disco anthems.
Steak on a Kaiser is certainly one of the more twisted pieces of work to come my way in awhile. It should hold appeal to those fans who hold Dr. Demento's radio program in high regard and wish to hear metal-infused novelty music.
-John ChedseySatan Stole My Teddybear
This is the second loose concept album from the twisted minds of The G. Gordon Liddy's. Our hero, Steve, returns and the Liddy's take us on a hilarious trip to the compound where Steve's footless clone (he wasn't finished when they stopped baking him) is being worshipped by bloody-stumped followers. The music is just as crazy, ranging from punk to MIDI-cheese to the obligatory "wanking solo." Highly recommended.
-Bryan Baker, Gajoob
Evil Galactor you are whacked! I don't mean that in a bad way.
This is crazy funny and cool. A great comedy album that also has some good songs too. Plenty of great jams too. "KU KLUX KOCKSUCKERS" is a hilarious little country tune that must be heard to be believed. The whole CD is a story that I won't bother explaining. It's just insane. The disc ends with a 13 minute guitar jam and another crazy track.
Check it out if you have a sense of humour.
-Toad, Static 'Zine
I'm one of those groovy youth types who believes myself to be funky. Therefore, I get the humor of this new release by Canada's G. Gordon Liddys. The album is quite an experience, its got humor and music of many genres. These people must take alot of drugs. I hear Cibo Matto in the song "Chicken," this song would be great at a party once the booze kicks in. "Waltz of the Consumer Advocates" is noisy with guitar wankery, then it breaks for spoken word portions. "Prefab People" is a barn burner, it roxx in the tradition of ....well, I don't know, but it roxx in a traditional sense. "Heryaenus - Ancient Roman God of Porn" is obscene, over 18 and open minded, please.
-Face of the Assassin
See? It's cool. So for fuck's sake, buy a copy so we can all quit our crappy jobs, willya?