Review Summary: The fact that this album is comparatively good says a lot about both Pink Guy and contemporary hip-hop. But there’s only one thing that needs to be said: this album is really funny.
To actually write a serious review of Pink Guy’s album is actually kind of hard. As a performance artist [?] and comedian [?], his craft is inexplicably engrossing, managing a good mix of social satire and general grotesqueness. But that’s in 2-4 minute intervals. How does his craft hold up in a full 54+ minute set? Is the album supposed to be intentionally bad or surprisingly good? How do we know? Is this commissioned by the Cult of Lord Chin-Chin? Is the joke still funny after 10 minutes or even 30?
Well, yeah. Something that’s kind of refreshing for an album of this nature is just how polished it is. From the harmonies on the ukulele tracks to the boom-bap instrumentals on the hip-hop tracks, George constantly evokes the feeling of a legitimate hip-hop album, despite the actual subject matter being quite repulsive (with subjects like anal beads and bestiality being breached). On tracks like “Do the Salamander” and “Dick Pays Rent,” he effectively channels the cadence of artists like Chief Keef and Rick Ross by going all-in on what is essentially ratchet trap rap. On the ukulele tracks, George (or Pink Guy) shows real vocal talent, hitting high notes and harmonizing quite well, lending an added comedic edge to the songs’ subject matter (especially on “*** the Police” where George appropriates NWA into what amounts to a YouTube cover in hilarious fashion).
But it’s not all highlights on this 21 track album. Some of the tracks, like “Gibe De Pusi b0ss,” run their jokes into the ground through mere repetition. When the song is used in videos in short intervals (e.g. 15 seconds, tops), it’s funny.
But the same loop for nearly four minutes seems a bit much. And tracks like “Douchebag” and “Bad Words” are where the limitations of independent production start to show, with the synth and guitar lines on these two tracks respectively sounding cheap and uninspired. The lyrics on these, too, rely too heavily on overt proclamations as opposed to the other tracks, which incorporate personality and thematic elements from the “universe” that FilthyFrank has cultivated for years now.
This album is a bit of an enigma. It stands halfway between a legit hip-hop/pop album and abstract/vulgar comedy. And that speaks volumes for both the quality of the album and of popular hip-hop as a whole. When a twentysomething kid from somewhere in the Orient (Japan, Australia, wherever) can make an album as a joke that rivals the thematic and production quality of major-label mainstream hip-hop/pop, some things need to be addressed. But that’s for another time or place. Pink Guy’s album is good. Is it great? Nope. Is it funny? Almost entirely.
