Sharks and Balls and Brits… Oh My!

Freshen your drink, guvnor?

Somebody put my balls in a noose, because they’re totally hung up on Gallows. As the noose gets tighter and my balls begin to resemble one of the alien brains from Mars Attacks, I can’t help but think how awesome this band is. Young dogs can learn old tricks and these guys are living proof. They wear their influences on their sleeves, but who cares? If you like those bands, you’ll like this. And if not, save your balls for a rainy day. Until then, I’ll be dangling from mine until they snap, hollering FREEDOM!!! at the top of my lungs.

I don’t know why, but every time I hear that song, it reminds me of the book The Raw Shark Texts. It’s probably the word shark. And the fact that both Gallows and the book’s author, Steven Hall, are limey Brits. But that is where the similarities end. I don’t know if a book can technically “rock” balls. I’ve had a book make my balls shrivel up and hide inside my body, but never has the printed word caused the ‘ole testicales (pronounced test-e-ka-lays) to emigrate.

I only picked up The Texts as it was being hawked by House of Leaves author Mark Z. Danielewski via Myspace bulletin. And while it shared certain post modern textual flourishes with Leaves, and had some pretty good ideas of its own, The Texts ultimately left me wanting. It’s downfall was the juvenile nature of the romantic relationship between the two main characters. Their dialog had all the witty repartee of a bad sitcom, which hurt an otherwise enjoyable book. I’d give it 3 Netflix stars, overall.