...of my Eagles of Death Metal review.
It's in Blurt today.
Imagine the Eagles of Death Metal in a world without sex. That's right, let's say that Heart On (heh, get it?) was beamed into a universe where people propagate by splitting off cells or are fertilized by roving bands of cyber bees. Would this slab of raging, rocking, eyebrow cocking come-on make any sense at all? Imagine parthogenetic societies trying to figure out the appeal of tight pants and jiggling rears. Picture them asking, "What exactly is he doing with his hand?" Nightmare, right? Absolutely unsustainable. Because Eagles of Death Metal breathes sexual innuendo the way that Martians breathe silica gas...or something like that.
They wanna be in LA, apparently.