Murderer’s Row – The Bully Breed

Looking at the album cover, I can’t claim I was expecting much from an album like The Bully Breed by New York’s Murderer’s Row, but I was certainly expecting something much, much different.  A fishnet trotting bimbo with two leashed English Bulldogs – the combo usually equals meathead Oi! or tough as nails working class street punk.  The press release makes the band out to be a combination of the both, and the instrumental direction follows suit easy enough, but one oddity makes the whole affair laughable – vocalist Bob Riley’s tendency to sound like Dame Edna joined the Dropkick Murphys and started fronting.

Yep, you heard me right, Dame Edna Everage (for those of you unaware, Dame Edna is the stage name of Barry Humpheries, an actor having made a career out of cross-dressing as an plump middle aged woman).  I almost feel bad for making the comparison, but it’s just too appropriate to pass up.  I’ve tried searching for any distraction from Riley’s cringe worthy howl, but even rock solid guitar underpinning (ranging from ACDC on “With Us Or Against Us” to The Dropkick Murphys on “Hudon Suds”), a chorus of gruff backing woahs (think The Business), and infectious melodies are worth little.  Like a drop of hot sauce to a bowl of soup, one ingredient dictates all else.

Compounding matters, those sticking around long enough will also find the album riddled with lyrical clichés and a very lazy vocabulary.  Take “Piss Poor Working Class” for instance.  While many bands rally working class pride and tap into a history of unionization, Murderer’s Row makes for a contradictory message.  “Staring at the time clock, wishin the time away/Can’t wait for the weekend we’ll get drunk in every way/We’re the piss poor working class pissing our lives away” moans Riley before describing a hungry family smothered in debt.  Maybe it’s just me, but a song about working class pride opened by military drumming should inspire, not discredit.  The image might ground itself in truth, but the scenario is one worth fighting against, and certainly not worth rallying around.  And that’s one of the “smart” songs – just glance over titles like “Hell Bent On Rock N Roll” and “Stupid Mother Fucker” and imagine what the filler sounds like.

One bright moment shines through on the somber acoustic piece “Our Time Is Short.”  The band employs an uncredited member for vocals, in the process instantly saving their credibility for a brief moment.  The lyrics remain thin at best and aren’t nearly as smart or as insightful as the band intends.  Still, it offers hope, and the message of enjoying our short time on earth sits well.

Just to make sure I wasn’t missing something, I played The Bully Breed for a friend before finishing this review.  While he didn’t have Dame Edna as a reference point, I’ll quote him as saying “this sounds like Pee Wee Herman!” as proof enough.  So even with a solid musical grounding, a combination of laughable vocals and generic lyrics make for an album I doubt I’ll ever take off the shelf again.