What’s not to like about this record? OK, yeah, the Neckbones can’t sing, but you can tell they could give a toss about that. They’re not all that bothered about staying in tune, either, or looking good in their CD photo, or really doing much of anything but kicking up a loud, unholy, heavy, rude racket that sounds like a combo of alcohol, boredom relief, and a general desire to create loud, uncivil, ill-mannered, happy mayhem. The sleepy college town of Oxford, MS, where they hatched, is a “make your own kicks” dullsville. So when the Neckbones sing “I’m having the best time of my life,” you picture them getting wrecked, inviting their pals to a crazy, whacked rehearsal, and then celebrating by swervedriving their cars over to William Faulkner’s old house and relieving their bladders on the outside walls. Good kick-bucket rock & roll. Not pretty? This ain’t no beauty contest. This is the sound and the fury.