3Oh!3 - Want

Who says nu metal is dead? Well, every half-way sentient, right-thinking being in the universe does, obviously. But, on the evidence of 3Oh!3, it has merely mutated to survive insidiously in this new bright decade. For now we have something called crunkcore, a genre which takes the witless women-hatred of nu metal, welds it to the clubfooted lurch that is a trademark of crunk (This is supposed to be the dancable end of hip hop? Are you serious?) and stands back to enjoy the hilarious results. Although how entertaining you find this album really depends on how you feel about endless denigration and verbal abuse of women, occasionally interspersed with some mightily delusional self-aggrandisement.

The misogyny really is relentless. It makes up pretty much the whole lyric of 'Punkbitch', which may not surprise you. Less expected is 3Oh!3's assertion that they're "sipping on some gin". What is it with these gansta types and they're quaintly polite drinking habits? They should watch out or they'll end up getting tipsy. 'Don't Trust Me' is all about some slutty actress who (yawn) wants to have her way with the 3Oh!3 boys. It includes this frankly unbelievable line: "Tell your boyfriend/ if he says he's got beef/ I'm a vegetarian/ and I ain't fucking scared of him". Did that sound good in their heads? It's worth pointing out that the two lads who make up 3Oh!3 are a pair of Twigletly white boys who look like they haven't had a decent salad in their lives. One could use up this whole review listing the unstinting sexism on this album, but experiencing it is like reading American Psycho in one sitting: after a while it just washes over you.

Being hardcore women-haters, it should come as a surprise to no one that 3Oh!3 have worked with Katy Perry. They did some turd-polishing on her album and here she returns the favour with 'Starstruck', which sounds like any track off One of the Boys if the producer had invited some beer-swilling Spearmint Rhino regulars into the studio to voice their opinions on Perry's, uh, attributes. It is, in a word, vile. This album is a thoroughly depressing listen and enduring it from beginning to end actually makes one want to reach for Valerie Solanas' SCUM Manifesto, just to redress the balance a bit.

Richard Morris