Attempting to capture on wax the beer-soaked, thong-clad mania of the Party Dream's live show is like describing an orgasm: For some things, you just gotta be there. Onstage, brothers Gil Mantera and the Ultimate Donny combine short-shorts, dubious facial hair, Casio beats, and lots of homoerotic undertones into oversexed electro that packs all the intellect-eroding fun of a box of whippets.
Thankfully, the band's second album trumps its so-so debut by carefully cultivating a live feel, with nearly a dozen between-song snippets taped at various gigs. "There's a lot of things that come with being famous," Donny explains at one point. "At any given minute, your own emotions can creep up on you and bite you in the nuts. Like a squirrel." Donny croons and rhymes in mock sincerity -- half Tom Jones, half Kool Moe Dee -- backed by Gil's vocodered vocals and Day-Glo synth. It's horny new-wave disco bed-hopping with snarling digital punk, an album as dirty and sweaty as the lovemaking these guys constantly boast of.