Not Our House, Not Our House Music

A distinctive sound developed in the late 1980s and early 1990s elevated Revolting Cocks above the stable of mere side projects led at the time by Ministry’s Al Jourgensen. Full of tinny electronics and screeching hard-rock chops, RevCo’s best work was a well-executed gag—equal parts the funny-haha variety (“Beers, Steers & Queers”) and the instrument of torture (covers of “(Let’s Get) Physical” and “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?”). Sadly, their fifth studio LP Sex-O Olympic-O continues an embarrassing downward spiral begun on album #4, Cocked and Loaded.

Maybe we’re desensitized to industrial music’s shock and awe, or maybe a musician’s life has been painfully hard on Jourgensen, but his arrangements here seem too clean and the humor too forced on everything from the false epic “Wizard of Sextown” to the ham-fisted “Cousins.” That Jourgensen’s current Cocks have a fraction of the talent of the bile-filled mercenaries from his Wax Trax! and Sire Records days is another troubling failing.

Marilyn Manson’s species of synthesized sleaze grew at least in part from Revolting Cocks’ seed, but on Sex-O Olympic-O RevCo just emulate the emulators. Unconvincing songs like “Keys to the City” represent the nadir of their mimicry of the treble-heavy guitar fuzz and pained melody popularized by MM and similarly imitated by countless other industrial rockers.

Parts of this album might work in different contexts: the backing track of “Touch Screen” could reside on the noisiest edge of indie-dance from M83 and their ilk, while the lyrics of “I’m Not Gay” seem more suited for snotty punks like G.G. Allin or The Descendents. Finding other positives on Sex-O Olympic-O and the current state of Revolting Cocks, however, would be pissing into the wind.