Who's your favorite Cock? Hopefully you answered either Al "Buck Satan" or Luc, Luc Van Acker, seeing as they're the only returning members.
I missed 2006's Cocked and Loaded, which was their first record since 1993, but the change from its predecessor Linger Ficken' Good to Sexo Olympico is measurable - as you'd expect with fifteen years in between and a handful of new cast members. Member changes often spell disaster for a band, but in the Al Jourgensen industrio-world massive shifts in personnel are rather common. With RevCo, Jourgensen is stepping into more of a writer/producer role. With Sexo Olympico the changing cast shows, but at their heart, can a band named the Revolting Cocks really ever move beyond sleazy industrial rock? They may be trying: the band has officially shortened to RevCo and they have adopted a new generation of permanent members.
The band has taken a definite turn toward the dance side of industrial music, with European-style electronic beats overriding the crunchy guitars. The seamy lyrics about drugs and sex seem to be pushed to the background, with a mix focusing on hooky guitars and sequences instead of the snarky juvenile attitude that defined the band's earlier work. Sure, the content is still silly and dirty, but it feels like an afterthought as the band wants to be taken more seriously. Josh Bradford's vocals are clear and professional, a far cry from Jourgensen's digitally manipulated croak that has only a few appearances on the fifty minute record.
The record starts out with "HookerBot3000." There is a few second beginning with a familiar rumbling bass, much like their earlier material, but it very quickly shifts into a dancey Euro beat with alternating vocals from Jourgensen, sounding a bit Rammsteiny, and new member Josh Bradford. The lyrics kind of blend together, but I caught a line about "pants off dance off." "Robo Banditos" is a similar sound with a little heavier focus on metal guitars, with overlaid Spanish samples about the "robo banditos." This is one of the more memorable songs and, again, most the lyrics are indiscernible without a lyric sheet, but the phrase "and try not to give you herpes" sticks out quite clearly. In fact, most of the record drifts beyond my attention span. I can tell you what I dislike about it far more than I can point out favorite parts. "Lewd Ferrigno" has some nice machine gum drums, and I like the name of "Wizard of Sextown," but I can also tell you that its tempo is reminiscent of Ministry's "Lay Lady Lay" cover but minus a saving melody. Sure, I've always preferred my industrial music on the metal, guitar-orientated side, versus the dancey, keyboard-driven sort, but this record is really average. There's nothing that grabs you besides a few digitized beats bouncing over the top of the guitars.
It feels like the band has shifted toward the dance clubs instead of the dirty limerick books. Maybe I'm getting older, but they just don't seem to have the same level of cleverness they used to have. Songs like "I'm Not Gay," come across as more anthemic and hooky, instead of relying on gritty wits. Or maybe Al Jourgensen and company are still children at heart while I've, unfortunately, grown up.
