I think of the Queers as the "South Park" of punk rock, although the level of sophistication in the short-lived fad show's humor may actually be a bit higher overall. The Queers hail from the whitewashed nursing-home state of New Hampshire-- a state that, in many ways, strangely resembles the fictional South Park. So it's obvious why these guys are so damn angry: all their lives they've been surrounded and oppressed by bitchy keep-that-infernal-racket-down pensioners and miserly social security-hoarding retirees.

And speaking of old people, there's part-time lead singer and potty-mouth lyricist Joe Queer. He's somehow kept his personality in some advanced Cryogenic attitude-freeze for nearly 20 years, as he's been spitting up the same sarcastic 6th grade humor and Ramones-rip-off punk since 1982. While on the subject of 6th grade, I was about 12 years old when Queer started out, and I'm afraid I'd have to be 12 again to better appreciate songs like "I Hate Your Fucking Guts" and "I Just Called to Say Fuck You."

Nevertheless, the sentiments expressed in "Stupid Fucking Vegan" deserve special attention: "Acting like you care about some stupid fucking cow/ You fucking vegan/ Your PC attitude/ It doesn't matter anyhow." And that's just part of the fun. Elsewhere on Beyond the Valley..., Queer takes pot shots at idle rich punk rock elitists, jockish "Mongos," and then, at the end, stages a big rant about everything he feels isn't authentically "punk"-- namely, easy targets like Mike Ness and Maximum Rock N' Roll.

Evidently Queer comes in contact with many a neo-Nazi skinhead in New Hampshire, since he devotes two pretty observant songs to those upstanding members of our upscale suburban communities, "Little Rich Working Class Oi-Boy" and "Journey to the Center of Your Empty Fucking Skull." The latter boasts this classic line concerning these fashionable Hitlerian youths: "These morons wanna run the country/ Boy, that would be a hoot/ 'Cause these fucking morons/ Couldn't handle a paper route."

And of course, let's not forget the feminist's field day portion of the album: the kiddy misogyny of "Strangle the Girl," "My Cunt's a Cunt," and specifically, "Just Say Cunt," which attempts to dispel, once and for all, any notions that "cunt" is a derogatory term. Damn, will somebody in the band please have mercy on Queer and just give him a blow job, for god's sake?

Musically, the Queers don't let up for a second. Every song speeds along with the same breakneck tempo and butt-simple distorted bar chords. A guy named Wimpy yells most of the lead vocals while Lurch chugs along on bass. Oddly enough, the songs are more cute and melodic than you might expect, every track basically being some knock-off of "Blitzkrieg Bop" or "Someone's Gonna Get Their Head Kicked in Tonight." But it's kind of nice that they're not one of those rigid, chopless punk bands that think they're too cool for guitar solos. There are actually some tasty, ass-kicking lead guitar parts happening here-- the kind that are quickly becoming extinct in modern rock.

Sure, the kind of punk these guys dish out is about as dangerous and intimidating as Bart Simpson on a skateboard. But Joe Queer can be pretty entertaining in plenty of intentional and unintentional ways. Maybe he actually pisses some people off, who knows? His comic strip misanthropy and junior high rage is, at best, funny and amusing; at worst, it's merely silly and harmless. If you get off to this sort of smart-ass juvenile humor, the Frogs might be the better band for your anti-PC dollar. The Queers are good for a few laughs, though. And if you're a punk rock snob, I'd advise you not to give Queer any more of yer fucking attitude. Otherwise you might wind up in a Queers song in which you're referred to as an "assfucker."

-Michael Sandlin