"Two years after founding member Tom Pittman left the band, and seven years after their last full-length — 2006’s 'The Drugs I Need' — Austin’s leading folk satirists strike back like mosquitoes in the summer. With 30-plus years in the game, the Lounge Lizards butter their bread with riffs on religion and politics. Their 10th album 'Home and Deranged' is full of airport security jabs ('Thank You for Touching Me There') and clowning on post-Alex Jones conspiracy peddlers ('Black Helicopters') with lyrics like 'the President’s an alien and I’ve got proof.' But it is fiddle player and singer Darcie Deaville that steals the show in her Lizards album debut. 'Who Needs You' is a wry kiss off love note that features her lead vocals. Her backing pipes are a vibrant counter-point throughout — check her 'executives from Texaco' bridge on Spanish language rambler, 'Spelunking with Joe King Carrasco.' Lyrics are loose and fun ('a wiggle and a wobble like a pony with a hobble'), but scathing marriage sendup 'I Lied' is the album’s best high. It has last call classic potential with its sing-along chorus of 'I stood at the altar with no place to hide and I lied.' Here’s hoping it’s a good while before the band quits drinkin’ and screwin’ around."
Austin Lounge Lizards
Home and Deranged (Blue Corn)
Following founding member Tom Pittman's departure from Austin's beloved Lounge Lizards in 2011, the future of the satirical outfit seemed uncertain after a three-decade run. On Home and Deranged, fellow founders Hank Card and Conrad Deisler haven't missed a beat. With Darcie Deaville and Bruce Jones filling out the Lizards' first LP since 2006's The Drugs I Need, the political and social wit remains timely and sharp, from the TSA-dedicated "Thank You for Touching Me There" to the false-flag flying send-up "Black Helicopters" and recent fan favorite "Too Big to Fail." "If I Saw You All the Time" and "I Lied" turn on more personal parodies. Eclecticism through folk styles emerges amid double entendres, rolling into a sea shanty for "My Bonnie Johnson" and cutting Tex-Mex for "Spelunking with Joe King Carrasco," featuring Carrasco himself providing spirited gritos. Still wonderfully absurd and necessarily pointed.