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	<title>Reversed Records &#8211; Teeth of the Divine</title>
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		<title>FatTooth &#8211; FatTooth</title>
		<link>https://www.teethofthedivine.com/reviews/fattooth-fattooth/?utm_source=rss&#038;utm_medium=rss&#038;utm_campaign=fattooth-fattooth</link>
					<comments>https://www.teethofthedivine.com/reviews/fattooth-fattooth/#respond</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Justin M Norton]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Jul 2009 10:02:09 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Reviews]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Reviews › F]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[2009]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fattooth]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Justin M. Norton]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Reversed Records]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Review]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://teethofthedivine.com/site/?p=6574</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Let&#8217;s get this out of the way: FatTooth&#8217;s debut album is kind of a wreck. The riffs are warmed over like a tin of Dinty Moore beef stew and the songs sound like a bad fourth-generation dub of The Sex Pistols. Mixing Green Jelly, The Meatmen and cock rock is either an act of bravery [&#8230;]]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Let&#8217;s get this out of the way: FatTooth&#8217;s debut album is kind of a wreck. The riffs are warmed over like a tin of Dinty Moore beef stew and the songs sound like a bad fourth-generation dub of The Sex Pistols. Mixing Green Jelly, The Meatmen and cock rock is either an act of bravery or insanity, depending on your point of view.</p>
<p>A critic is tempted to use words like &#8220;abysmal&#8221; and &#8220;juvenile&#8221; when assessing this album. However, someone on the first leg of a whisky bender or an impressionable teen who has only heard his uncle&#8217;s copy of <em>Theatre of Pain</em> would likely consider it life-changing. Despite its obvious flaws, some listeners will be drawn to Fattooth like self-aware cinephiles are drawn to Ed Wood&#8217;s films. This album may be an aberration &#8212; the musical equivalent of Wood&#8217;s clunker Orgy Of The Dead &#8212; but there is an underlying charm and utter lack of self-awareness here that is captivating.</p>
<p>First, a bit about FatTooth. The band is from Canada and headed up by a dude who calls himself Hucifer. He looks like combination of Marilyn Manson and King Diamond, complete with a megaphone and a top hat (think bad Smells Like Children-era flashbacks). Drummer Gene Hoglan, who also lends his talents to cartoon rockers Dethklok and Zimmer&#8217;s Hole, played on this recording but doesn&#8217;t tour with the band. From the pictures I&#8217;ve seen their live shows look like a bad night at the Exotic Erotic ball.</p>
<p>FatTooth mines turf that The Mentors plowed years ago; their music is essentially critic-proof and traffics in glorious, puerile humor. Do you think El Duce cared what a critic thought about &#8220;Sandwich Of Love&#8221;? Nope, he wiped the Cheez-Wiz off his beard, put on his stinky executioner&#8217;s hood and adjusted his ample gut behind the drum kit. The only time he ever engaged with critics was when he yelled at plump housewives on &#8220;Geraldo.&#8221; Fattooth opens their album with the sound of urination and wrote a song called &#8220;Bacteria&#8221; about the glories of germs: &#8220;I ate the mystery meat and my gut began to roll&#8230;Well I don&#8217;t think I&#8221;ll ever need a colonic, but it was that week that I heard about the bubonic plague.&#8221; Do you think they are at all concerned with a review or want to make wr iter self-flagellate?</p>
<p>I&#8217;m not going to lie and say that you need to hear this because it&#8217;s not all that great. Perhaps FatTooth will end up like GWAR; no one plays their albums much in their down time, but they quickly get a ticket when the circus rolls into town.</p>
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