Bloodhound Gang

One part Limp Bizkit, one part Blink-182, it’s the overdue return of the great white dinks. The Philly frat boys have never been ones to rush into anything, except maybe a strip bar or a crack house, but five years between albums? On this follow up to the deliciously cheeky and shamelessly misogynistic Hooray for Boobies, the Gang have grown up slightly and are diversifying their rap metal sound by straying more readily into disco, house and New Order-ly new wave, while sticking to the formula. Fun to listen to, but on a musical level, vocalist Jimmy Pop’s sly and sick rhymes get lost in the mix — literally. The vocals are so low, it’s almost impossible to make out what he’s saying. And that’s a shame because they are often as clever as they are offensive, and usually make the songs what they are. Still, the band know how to have a sophomoric good time and aren’t ashamed to let you know it on songs like "Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo.”