The cheeky trio struts again, showing off their finest stuff, again delivering an eclectic mix of (strapped-on?) cock rock and dark folk. 'Biloxi Cocksucker' is inarguably the focus of the record and again inarguably as good a military-man-missing-in-action-in-the-Delta song as anyone will ever hear.

'The Groft' is a talking piece, much in the vein of Burroughs, babbling about a commercial transaction carried out in the light of day on municipal property. Male unhappiness fuels the ugly fantasy of 'Dorchester Blues' and the biological attack of 'Anthrax Blues'. 'Dead Sargent' breaks new musical ground, yet respectfully leaves the remains of the protagonist undisturbed.

The unholy trinity, in their third release, leave us with the lasting impression that ''birds don't have holidays'', or do they?