The cover of this album is a two-color drawing of a couple of scantily-dressed women who appear to be wrestling. The music on this album matches its cover perfectly: generic, not much variation, and you suspect that someone, somewhere, is going to get offended. It shouldn't be too hard to offend someone. A name like "Flesh Vehicle" would get my mom talking about the end of the world. I was actually hoping there was a band called "Flesh Garage" that I could compare and contrast with, but no such luck.

This album, the imaginatively titled Double EP, has everything you'd expect from a typical arena-rock band. The vocals are throaty and off key. You'll get the occasional high-pitched guitar solo and drum fills and, of course, the guitar riffs -- don't forget about the guitar riffs. And chords? Not only do these guys know G, but they also know B. Apparently, former Superdrag bass player Tom Pappas from Tennessee started Flesh Vehicle because he wanted an excuse to get on stage to show off his really big hair. Or maybe he just wanted to scream and breathe heavily into a microphone; we're not sure yet.

This is one of those bands that would be interesting if they weren't so boring. Occasionally you'll hear a smooth bass line, or a song will start with a melodic guitar riff, and maybe you'll even hear some catchy vocals. But then, during the rest of the song, something will go wrong. For example, extra space-noises and screaming appear in the almost enjoyable garage-rock song "Perfect State of Grace" (which sounds like an 84 Nash song, a garage band I fancy), and heavy breathing noises show up at the beginning of "Comin' Down High.” The deep, thoughtful lyrics ("steal your keys and crash your car") can sometimes be catchy. But then you'll hear a mediocre tune like "Rip This Song," and you'll realize anything interesting coming out of this band must be a total fluke. Actually this stuff is great if you close your eyes and pretend you're in middle school and have no taste. I'm sure there's at least one person in Tennessee who thinks this is the “Best Band Ever.” I imagine that person explains how the album "just doesn't capture their live sound."

Back to the album. Some songs are free from the headache-inducing guitar and drums because they spend the first half of the song slow, melodic and quiet. But before you know it, the singer is screaming at the top of his lungs into the microphone again. Pappas, you don't have to release your anger in every single song. And you can actually spend more time writing your songs, being creative, and pushing the arena-rock envelope. I believe in you. Anyway I'll probably have nightmares, but eventually I'll move on. Anyone want to start a band called Flesh Garage?