Bobby Conn is such a hopeless, glorious geek. Alternately declaring himself the antichrist, a Jesus Christ superczar, conman, Church of the Subgenius-style holy trickster, and now a 33rd degree, tenth generation Illuminati, the only thing preventing his tongue-in-cheek megalomania fantasies from being overbearing is how he throws himself into these roles with such uninhibited gusto, prancing about at shows like a coked-up leprechaun, sometimes wearing little more than a glittery thong and a cape. Peel away the layers of bombast, irony, camp and conspiracy theories, Conn seems to be genuinely passionate and pissed off, like a cartoonish Matt Johnson (The The).
The message of “We Come In Peace” is relatively pointed and straightforward, criticizing our country’s Crusades-like foreign policy, while “Relax” declares “I didn’t need to get elected, when I was born I was selected/To lead you to our destiny, The Prince Of Lies claims victory.” As the Glass Gypsies, the band slips into more gaudy costumes, playing a mix of glam, disco, funk and hairmetal, always with subversive post-rock elements, courtesy of Tortoise’s John McEntire. Other stylistic departures, like the early Tubeway Army/Ultravox synth-rock of “We’re Taking Over The World” and “Relax” is pure Prince. The album is diverse to a fault, lacking a cohesiveness that is entertaining, but taints one’s memory with the musty smell of an old Tubes record or a thirty year-old pleather jumpsuit.
April 2, 2026
Fester’s Lucky 13: 1986
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Ranking the Oscar Nominees
