Wednesday, 22 October 2008
Released 27 October
When you think of a funhouse, do you think of lazy summer days spent at the seaside, enjoying clever tricks of light, distorted mirrors and wonky floors? Or do you think of a pig-faced, tattooed, pre-op transsexual whose faux-rebellious squawkings makes Lou Ferrigno with laryngitis sound like Maria Callas and who hasn't changed her outfit since she rode the coattails of her fellow squawkers in that godawful cover of "Lady Marmalade"?
If you do, then Pink is the second rate karaoke screamer for you. She'll get the party started and then she spend the rest of evening crying in the toilet because she's drunk too much Pernod and doesn't understand why no-one knows the real her. But the sad fact is YOU - that's right, YOU - will be the sorry excuse for a human being who wakes up next to her vomit-flecked porcine features after a half-forgotten night of fumbling and frottage. And you'll be humming "Lady Marmalade" when you do, you sad bastard.
Lumpy beats stolen from a game of Asteroids, "I'm a woman, don't mess with me" ranting mixed with painful ballads about how her man is banging her best friend, and some sub-Roxette guitar solos are slung together to turn Pink's Funhouse (Christ, what a revolting, not to mention smelly thought) into the kind of album that makes cats eat themselves.
Why can't she just marry Kermit, have some mutant pig-frog kids and leave us alone?
Shatner scale: Quincy cameo
Must hear: No