I'd been under the impression that the Slackers were the people I invited to parties who ate nine of my pot brownies and peed on my toilet seat. In actuality, though, they're are an eight- piece ska outfit out of New York. It's been hard to accept these guys. As a high priest of the Church of the SubGenius and a devotee of Slack through the ages, I thought it a bit ambitious that they should take the name of something which, quite simply, is the most powerful anti- motivating force on Earth today, Slack. I wondered how the Slackers would relate to the highest rule of Slack: "The Essence of Slack is Getting More for Doing Less." How could a band playing such lite-hearted fare possibly plumb the depths of deepest Slack? A conundrum, indeed.

After some careful research consisting of reading the back of a Captain Crunch box and their 100- word bio on some half-assed fan site, it seems that the Slackers are actually talented individuals, loved and hailed in their home city. Sure, they don't make especially good picante sauce in New York City (the term "get a rope" comes to mind), but they've got some bands. They also have bars, and sometimes the bands play in the bars.

Now that we've got that out of the way, I feel that The Question is a good album. First off, it's got 19 tracks spanning 68 minutes-- none a'that 12- tracks- takin'- up- 30- minutes shit here. So, they've got quantity... but how about quality? Yeah, there's quality here. The Slackers, appropriately, slack their way through a solid set of songs with no special urgency burning your player up. No, friends, it's simply basic ska flavored with influences across the spectrum from lounge to reggae. Don't expect any fiery inspiration or divine intervention, just laid-back toonz to pull a tube by, if'n y'know what I mean. And, in the spirit of this music, I end my review here and bid you goodnight.

-James P. Wisdom