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David St. Hubbins said it best; “It’s such a fine line between stupid and clever” and frequently it call comes down to presentation. Take a group like They Might Be Giants; a good majority of their songs don’t even make sense. They’re filled with non-sequiturs about human/alien lovemaking, evil puppets and deviant cyclopes. However, they present their lyrics in a musical format (college/indie rock) that is equally quirky and oddball, so it works out for them. Your Highness Electric, on the other hand, wrap their decidedly odd lyrics around generic, paint-by-numbers cock rock on The Grand Hooded Phantom. And since they aren’t going over the top with it a la The Darkness, it must be assumed that they want to be taken seriously. But when lines like “I know what the little babies need/They think ‘I want to suck on breasts all day long” are accompanied by bluesy rock riffs and a vocalist who sounds like he wants to make love to the microphone, it’s hard to wrap your head around it. Maybe if the music was a little bit better, it might work. Many songs, such as the hilariously named “Bob. Sugar. Sex. Magic.” and “Bearskin Love,” sound like boring arena rock that would have been embarrassing and boring if released 10 years ago, albeit with exceptionally out-there lyrics. It’s hard to hate Your Highness Electric because they are so damned odd. But it’s hard to like them because they are so damn boring. There has to be an audience somewhere for this weirdness; maybe philosophy majors who are into Skid Row. (LABEL: Longhair Illuminati 2008)
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