I remember when I was in third grade and my mom told me I could have a new bike if I just got a "C" in Math. This simple incentive was enough to make me actually take some time off my usual routine of disruptive comments, farting, and obscene sketches to aim high: to "C" territory. The end of the year came soon enough, and report cards were handed out. Sure, I had "Ds" in Science and History, but the deal with Mom had been a "C" in Math, and though the sweat dripping off my trembling brow nearly obscured the grade, I had done it!

I skipped home with the abandon of a kid on his way to a new BMX bike. I envisioned my friends, green with envy as I rode down the street, suddenly able to kick anyone's ass, and the victory of being the biggest stud around. Sure, I'd been told that the bubbles when I peed were sperm, and that their presence meant I was "coming," but I still wanted studliness, and this new bike was going to get it for me!

Of course, Mom was enraged at my other grades and never bought me the bike. Imagine my disappointment, promise broken and studliness stolen as I walked where I needed to go, or, worse yet, rode the girl's bike that I had affectionately dubbed "Junkie." This is the disappointment I felt when I heard Libido, the fourth full- length release from San Diego Skasters Buck-O-Nine. I'd grown somewhat fond of their last release, Twenty- Eight Teeth, in that it's a likable record and promises something... more. I felt certain that in the future this band would provide the proverbial bicycle of my youth, a truly ripping, fun, diverse album that would give me studliness. As you may have guessed, I never got what I wanted.

Libido slides backwards where Twenty- Eight Teeth struck ahead with edgy ska- core rhythms overlaid with addictive melodies. Libido appears to be a nakedly obvious attempt at crossover marketing, in that most of these tracks sound like blatent rip-offs of songs by "more commercially viable" radio artists. Rather than presenting the listener with something with universal appeal, they instead succeed in half- assing their way through 40 minutes of mediocrity. Goddamn right, I'm upset about it. I expected more-- studliness, the ability to kick anybody's ass. Now, I'm a pathetic, impotent music- reviewing geek and my co-workers beat me up every day with Rubbermaid trash cans. No bicycle, no Libido, no friends-- it's all the karmic web, hey?

-James P. Wisdom