Boy Prostitute

One of the trends in punk rock that I happen to enjoy very much is how influences shape a 30-plus-year-old genre. C'mon, there's only so much one can do with three chords, right? Well, Miami's Boy Prostitute has definitely taken cues from the Ramones' playbook and injected the chords with some savvy heaviness à la AC/DC and the Fucking Champs. I'm thinking early Melvins here. From the opening threat, "You're going home in a fucking ambulance ..., " to the last song that closes this 12-track slab, Boy Prostitute is onto some serious shit.

Dark, melodic sing-alongs maintain a crisp pace, and the tunes are all true rock gems of the two-minute variety. The guitars and vocals are handled by J.C. Hooker and Churchill's fixture Cancer Mykhell — both of whom sing symbiotically to good effect. The rhythm section is represented by the thick bass work of Ian Hacker and the solid drumming of Critical Recordings mogul Chris Critic, who's been a South Florida player for as long as I can remember and whose studio work on the upcoming Crumbs album is spectacular. Lyrically, these guys tackle the typical Miami dirt of drugs, depression, and scuzz with a heartfelt and sincere approach. Clever, arena-worthy tracks such as "Disney Atom-Bomb," "Rehab's for Quitters," and "I Want to Kill You but I Don't Want to Go to Jail" anchor the midsection of the disc. "Dead Boy" is the closest we get to romance here, but the treatment uses a Fifties sugar-bop style that sits well on the music and on Mykhell's lead vocals. This is a concrete debut for the band, and you can only imagine its next effort will raise the bar even higher.


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