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Most of us have probably heard the standout tracks here ('Greg! The Stop Sign!!', 'He'll Never Be An Ol' Man River', etc) the requisite two-point-five times before they officially become irritating. If you're into aural masochism, however (teehee! kinky sex! opportunity for poo jokes!), the Tism boys welcome you to fork over your cash (ooh, you unwitting capitalist cog, you!) for a collection of sub-cabaret ditties which you could cull from your JJJ Hottest 100 discs and assemble on a mixtape anyway. Oh, but you'll miss out on the scintillating cover art - a comment on the emptiness of post-modernism, and post-post-modernism (which doesn't envelop Tism, oh no), and how it's a bit of a laugh that four guys are financing their thirty-carton-a-week sharehouse lifestyle by making statements akin to 'the sun rises in the East' ('All Homeboys Are Dickheads') and bashing the demographic that actually supports them (Yobs, natch). And it is a bit of a laugh, really. As long as it's not fuelled with your money - which, after all, would really be more sensibly spent on your own beer, no?

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