The Sound of No Hands Clapping

7000 Dying Rats call their style "straight-up comedy grind," but to get picky, this album is only about 20 percent grindcore and, well, it's hard to say exactly how much of it is comedy. The rest is a loose hodgepodge of glam rock, low-budget black metal, tacky lounge-band funk, stage banter excerpts, tape montages, and even a brief hip-hop instrumental. It's all a big mess, and that's part of the album's charm. It actually works better this way than if it were all tightly constructed and executed à la Naked City — that approach to genre-jumping has been applied before (by 7000 Dying Rats themselves, even) and it's doubtful anyone is going to improve on what has already been done in that vein. That's not to say there couldn't have been some better editing here, since there is some filler (e.g., "I Blow S***s," which blends together the least redeeming aspects of A.C. and free improv while also managing to be the second longest track on the album). Not an appealing combo. But on the whole, the band does a good job of balancing their obnoxious side with a self-deprecating sense of humor. Plus, the grindcore/metal sections are in fact well-done (A.C. is again a reference point) and a couple of the few actual songs — "Strippers on Ecstasy" and "Paper Thin Lizzy" — are catchy (and stupidly funny) enough to almost justify the price of admission on their own. In any case, 7000 Dying Rats are doing their own thing here, and this is a fun album provided the listener has a sense of humor and a short attention span.