Beefus | The Itching Down Below

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United States - Wisconsin

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Rock: Hard Rock Metal/Punk: Funk Metal Moods: Mood: Weird
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The Itching Down Below

by Beefus

Twang-core-drool-circus-ape-metal-jazz
Genre: Rock: Hard Rock
Release Date: 

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Tracks

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1. Let the Big One Rip
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4:40 $0.99
2. Himp
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2:55 $0.99
3. Fungus Pants
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6:08 $0.99
4. Brain Drain
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4:18 $0.99
5. The Reacharound
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3:10 $0.99
6. Mona Strap Your Feedbag On
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3:38 $0.99
7. My Name Is Beefus
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5:42 $0.99
8. The Ballad of Splurn and Mr. Chuggles
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2:57 $0.99
9. God's Bedroom Wall
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1:50 $0.99
10. Pleasure Pad Patty
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4:38 $0.99
11. I Never Should Have Married a Transformer
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3:04 $0.99
12. Further Tales of the Fisticus
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4:33 $0.99
13. Jesus Didn't Die On the Cross for You
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4:16 $0.99
14. Rape Ape
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3:31 $0.99
15. Security and Resistance
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3:14 $0.99
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ABOUT THIS ALBUM


Album Notes
When the Corp took over, things went to hell slowly man. I mean, it’s not like they hung a giant GRC banner over the city gates or anything, or renamed a stadium. No, it was the way our mandated new food source streamed grey and gruel-like out of the taps, the way people disappeared off the street, and returned, scar-eyed and gurgling and happy in their jobs. Crossed ‘em with animals, then our kids became devolved needle-teethed little killers. If you weren’t a victim, you were a collaborator. My own wife seemed to transform overnight into something chrome-plated and murderous. They’re always trying to tempt you into giving up, too: hooking on the pleasure pad, draining the bad shit away. No good fleeing into the wilderness, either, they own that too, the fisticus stalks the woods by night. You got to follow the protocol, keep your mind on the job, heed all safety warnings, and when they tell you to dismantle the warhead with a wrench, you better get er done. Got one ray of hope ‘n it’s just a rumor. Seems they got hold of this banjo picker, he opened his mouth at a meeting and they took him. Only when they went to work their juju on him, injecting monkey jizz thru their brain needles, it backfired. As the ape sugar coagulated in his green blood, he only became more powerful. He’s a different kind. He’s a weaponized primate. He’s one of the tiny flagella-zippin’ children of a lustful God. Out of his hairy hole the truth is spoken. O pale, sweat-soaked drones of Foodmanity, remove the gobbets they have stuffed in your ear-pits. Claw at the pleasure pad and heave it into a corner. Prepare to receive the lovely methylated corn pap that is the message of BEEFUS.


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