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Title: Carpe Fugum
Review: A scrappy happy antidote to the streamlined blare of ultraslick melody makers. What The Fugs First Album lacked in polish though it more than supplied the want in anarcho-comical fark you attitude. A period piece now to be sure, a relic, but one that remains for me oddly comforting and frankly indispensable--there's still nothing like Tuli and the boys singing Slum Goddess or My Baby Done Left Me or Nothing to thoroughly recombobulate the banjaxed brainbox. Subversive imperfection never sounded so redoubtable. Like the dude sez here, cacophony forever.And wasn't that amped-up and spliffy live version of CIA Man over the closing credits of the Coen brothers' Burn After Reading just an inspired fugging choice? The answer is like totally yup and yessum if you ask me.
