Where haven't I seen Har Mar Superstar lately? Name one place. Really try. I promise, he's been there. Supermarket? Sorry, aisle 13 flashes issues of People and TV Guide. Post office? Nope, no less than four copies of You Can Feel Me have shown up in the Pitchfork P.O. box in the past two months, each accompanied by glossy 8x10s and novella-thick press kits. DMV? Great guess, but he even showed up there last week when I stood 74th in line wearing headphones blasting Loyola University's WLUW. Rolling Stone, Spin, CMJ, MTV, ABC... BET!! You guys, BET. How did this art-school joke from suburban Minnesota get all that publicity? The guy even co-wrote songs on Kelly Osbourne's debut and took her to the VMAs.

Har Mar Superstar, as you may know by now, is Sean Tillmann, who got his start fronting the Amphetamine Reptile noise-pop band Calvin Krime. Not long after that group disbanded, he re-emerged with a new project, Sean Na Na, and his self-titled Kill Rock Stars debut as Har Mar, which, initially, he jokingly passed off as the work of a younger brother, Harold Martin. (The name, in fact, comes from a notoriously dilapidated strip mall in Roseville, MN.) But during the past three years, Tillmann's been thinking bigger. Not content as simply the latest successor to the indie rock oddity throne of The Frogs, Wesley Willis and Neil Hamburger, he's taken his rote R&B; caricatures to Warner, who've flung him headfirst into the 15-minute novelty spotlight that once shown on Tenacious D, The Jerky Boys and Green Jellö. And so he finally lives up to his moniker.

You Can Feel Me is, predictably, a much glossier affair than Tillmann's Har Mar debut, and, in keeping with current trends, its instrumentation is far more minimal. Other than that, not much has changed. But what could, really? The entire persona's a joke, a sorta-funny-on-paper gimmick that wears out its welcome about three seconds after being made a reality. I mean, it's so obvious! A pudged-out, freakishly ugly white dude crooning soul cuts in his underwear? How'd this guy get a record out at all, much less one with such little actual entertainment value?

I'll tell you how: America. The country's no-brow simpletons lap this shit up like a last meal. It'll sell for the same reasons The Man Show's lasted four seasons and Spencer Gifts can't keep inflatable tits and farting monkeys in stock. What are we, nine? You Can Feel Me only exists as a passing gag. It's an off-color joke we forget after flicking off the TV. And the label doesn't even try to disguise that the disc is pure merchandise, from its 29-minute runtime to its budget list price. They know no one actually wants to listen to this. People see the funny fat man on TV, they click to Amazon.com. It's that easy!

If these tracks had even the slightest shred of originality, it would be one thing, but Tillmann's on autopilot from the moment we push play. You Can Feel Me's entire comedic arsenal consists of his off-key falsetto, and stock R&B; catchphrases that were already played-out when his debut hit stores in 2000: "I'm all up in your grill", "baby mother", "all you haters, step the fuck off," "I ain't got nothin' but love," "tappin' that ass", "ungh, ungh," "put ya hands up", and "booty call" are just some of the tired colloquialisms we're expected to laugh at. Did I mention there's vocoder? Hilarity!

Weighting this thing against other novelty records-- where a 10.0 might be, say, Spike Jones' Nutcracker Suite-- is a total loss; You Can Feel Me couldn't even battle 30 seconds of "They're Coming to Take Me Away, Ha Ha". The melodies, which are incomprehensibly being touted as this record's secret weapon, might be worse than the humor. This guy is shopping songs to Eve and J-Lo? Get the fuck out. What PR flack got promoted for that one?

Oh, and did you know Har Mar really takes this all very seriously? Did you? Check his quote from Canada's Eye Weekly in December:

"I'm not mocking it at all! I don't understand why people fucking think that. Because I'm white? Everyone has this perception that I'm mocking it because I perform and I do it with a straight face, but that's because I fucking love it. If you're going to laugh at it, fine, but buy my fucking record. The whole mockery issue really pisses me off, I think it's really retarded. If you put Usher's face on the cover nobody would know the difference, and I can sing better than that motherfucker."

Yeah, Tillmann, it's because you're fucking white. Jesus! Can you even believe the arrogance of this kid? Is he an asshole or something? Sorry, champ, but Usher wouldn't package promotional copies of his albums with gross-out glossies of his fat ass in thriftstore Underoos. Usher wouldn't play up his rank beastliness by neglecting his personal grooming habits before photo shoots. Usher wouldn't sport a cop-show 'stache and a rat-tail mullet. I can't even believe that needs to be explained!! "Because I'm white?" How do you even sleep after making a comment like that?! DUDE YOU HAVE A SONG ABOUT THE FUCKING ELEPHANT WALK!!!

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-Ryan Schreiber, February 28th, 2003