REVIEW: Blightobody, Poovy's Grove (Raging Rose Records)

- Jon Steltenpohl

Say the name, "Blightobody". Let it roll off of your tongue. What kind of new band could this be? Want a hint? They give thanks to Hootie and the Blowfish in their liner notes. Doesn't help? Well, their song, "Party Snout", won them the dubious title of The Best College Band in America on "Late Night with Conan O'Brien."

Unless you happened to catch Blightobody (and their party snouts) on the Conan show, you're no doubt in the dark about this wacky band. To get you up to speed, Blightobody is a "different" band out of South Carolina. Along with their power ballad about the joys of wearing rubber pig noses, Blightobody's sings about girls named Poovy and crazy butchers and their birds. Lead singer Brian McCarter's alternative universe is a place where "nothing is better, than when you're fleshy from the wetter."

Despite McCarter's esoteric lyrics, Blightobody's music is undeniably accessible. Their songs are guitar and drum driven romps that veer from loud and dirty fuzz-back to quirky pop songs a la Weezer, Trip Shakespeare, or The Pixies. McCarter's vocal style has finally filled that elusive gap between Glenn Danzig and Tiny Tim. Sometimes he growls like the devil, and sometimes he flies into a warbling falsetto.

Poovy's Grove just oozes with strange potential. The standout track is "The Moon Floats Overhead". The goofy lyrics actually mean something, and the pulsing music gets your head bobbing. Although the rest of Poovy's Grove OD's on oddness, Blightobody will crawl into the back of your brain. Poovy's Grove is infectious in a sneaky, cultist sort of way. While the little voice in your head says, "this is too weird", your mouth will be singing, no, shouting "...put that Party Snout on again!"

(Blightobody can be contacted through the internet at blighto@aol.com or by snail-mail at P.O. Box 50357, Columbia, SC 29250)