Since Mojo Nixon now makes albums only every few years, his comments on current events can be somewhat dated. It wasn't until 1995's Whereabouts Unknown that he took on the 1991 Gulf War, and it wasn't until 1999 that record buyers could hear his thoughts on the O.J. Simpson murder trial ("Orenthal James [Was a Mighty Bad Man]") and the death of Princess Diana ("Drunk Divorced Floozie [The Ballad of Diana Spencer]"). Not that you couldn't imagine what his outraged and outrageous opinions would be. Of course, some issues remained current, such as his dislike of the computer age ("I Don't Want No Cybersex," "Machines Ain't Music/I Got My Mojo Workin'"), Disney and McDonald's ("Disney Is the Enemy"), and the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame ("Rock N' Roll Hall of Lame"). Basically, Nixon would borrow a tune from Muddy Waters or Chuck Berry and let fly, and as usual he was funny, but like most provocative comedy, the record was more fun to talk about, and play for your friends, than to listen to yourself more than once. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
Maybe it was a coincidence that Mojo Nixon had trouble getting records released after he declared "Don Henley Must Die" on his 1990 debut solo album Otis (which followed five albums co-credited to percussionist Skid Roper). Maybe it was that the labels he recorded for, Restless and I.R.S., went out of business and nobody else would touch him. But except for a 1992 Christmas album, the aptly named Whereabouts Unknown was his first album in five years. Clearly, Nixon had not mellowed in the interim: Shortly into the opening track, "Gotta Be Free," he was talking about having his penis enlarged, and later on, "Tie My Pecker To My Leg" was his bawdiest effort yet. In between, often shouting over familiar blues-rock riffs, he explained that he loved his girlfriend more than anything except football; noted, "I ain't gonna be George Bush's whore" in the four-years-out-of-date anti-war song "My Free Will Just Ain't Willin'"; demanded "Don't Ask Me Why I Drink"; and launched into a cover of the Smiths' "Girlfriend In A Coma" that found him calling songwriter Morrissey "a fruitcake" and declaring, "I am the anti-Morrissey." It was probably less dangerous attacking Morrissey than Henley, but Nixon's humor remained as sophomoric as it was politically incorrect. As usual, he was pretty funny the first time around, though. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
Irreverent and raunchy, would you expect anything less from Mojo Nixon? Not for the kiddies or Tipper Gore's of the world, this CD is hilarious if you listen to it in the spirit in which it was recorded (a few trips to the eggnog-spiked punch bowl might help). "Mr. Grinch" is a perfect vehicle for Nixon's from-the-gutter vocals, while his original "It's Christmas Time" recalls the Memphis soul-struttin' of Rufus Thomas crossed with Clarence Carter's down 'n' dirty style. "We Three Kings" is turned into a tale of debauchery as Nixon growls "We were drunk for three days straight, feeling like we were Tom Waits." Play this not to be sanctified, but to be amused. ~ Dennis MacDonald, All Music Guide
Still quite early in the Mojo Nixon canon, this album presents a well-produced session featuring his duo with percussionist Skid Roper, augmented slightly by guest vocalists and a drunken-sounding choir. Musically, Nixon always seems to be taking baby steps, but his creations here indeed become more elaborate and silly, the creative behavior more than justified by a Nixon lyric such as "I'm Living With a Three Foot Anti-Christ." While the man's debut effort, simply entitled Mojo Nixon & Skid Roper, had established that the San Diego-based rocker was something of a weirdo, some of the songs on Frenzy make it plain that it is a full-out weirdo the listener is dealing with. Sometimes his ammunition is crude, attacking the over-hyped MTV with sexual innuendo or the rambling incoherency that befalls this particular performer when he simply runs out of ideas. What is delightful about this record is the feisty social commentary, delivered with lots of heart in a manner that recalls great performers of the past such as Harry McClintock of "I'm a Bum Fame." There is no doubt that McClintock himself would have highly approved of tracks such as "I Hate Banks" and "Ain't Got No Boss." The cover version of "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" is better, and shorter, than the original. ~ Eugene Chadbourne, All Music Guide
Musical comedians rise or fall on their humor as well as the music. This hard-rockin', sex-obsessed rockabilly-lover with an Elvis fixation manages to maintain a high level of both on this release. With titles including "Debbie Gibson Is Pregnant With My Two-Headed Love Child" and "She's Vibrator Dependent," it's clear that much of his sense of humor is just below the belt. ~ Mark Allan, All Music Guide
When Mojo Nixon and his partner in silliness, Skip Roper, released Bo-Day-Shus!!! in 1987, it opened a Pandora's Box of attention for the charismatic funnyman. The song "Elvis Is Everywhere" found itself on television and radio programs all over the United States. As did its author, who became a part-time VJ on MTV on the heels of its success. Not every joke Mojo Nixon lets fly on Bo-Day-Shus! is a knee-slapper, but one cannot deny his persistence. If you don't like the first quip, he might catch you on the second one, or the tenth. And if you never laugh, well, he'll keep going anyway. That's what he does. "Elvis Is Everywhere plays out as you'd expect: Nixon rants about how Elvis constructed the Great Pyramids of Giza and claims that he can see the King in everyone around him, while Roper backs him up with a pre-Beatles bluesy riff. The Story of One Chord is no less self-explanatory: He sings of a time when prehistoric man had only one chord to play on their primitive two-string guitars. In "I Ain't Gonna Piss in No Jar," Nixon threatens to personally deliver his marijuana-contaminated urine to the first lady herself, Nancy Reagan. None of the songs are brilliant, but every track is worth at least a couple of chuckles. ~ Kieran McCarthy, All Music Guide
A picture disc exists of this release, but it is no big deal, just an enlarged label with a kind of typical shot of a mugging Mojo Nixon and stoic Skid Roper sidekick guy. This set of songs has the notorious one about the MTV VJ, "Stuffing Martha's Muffin," but needless to say the hit on the corny music video network was buffered a bit by Nixon himself going to work there. This is an EP, about ten minutes per side, but there are some listeners who think that's a good dose for someone such as this artist, whose entire performance and presence are the pure essence of confrontation. That is not intended as a criticism. The entertainment audience at large has set up certain guidelines for lengths of performances, but that doesn't mean such guidelines are always a good idea; in the case of Nixon and Roper, they come off well with a quick romp such as this. "Burn Down the Malls" is a good idea all around, and much more serious than the Martha song. Nixon also dares to confront on levels that superficially seem meaningless. And amazingly, those who dig deeply into a tune such as "Jesus at McDonalds" will find that it actually is meaningless, which is even more courageous. ~ Eugene Chadbourne, All Music Guide
This is the collection that started it all for Mojo Nixon, meaning this is the recording equivalent of the broken lock on the barnyard door. The record has shown up over the years on several different labels, sometimes known as just plain Mojo & Skid. It reveals this dynamic duo at their vibrant best, putting across an instrumental conceit that weds a kind of old-timey instrumentation with a whisky-soaked, poetry-slam mentality. In one sense the duo can be imagined playing on a street corner in Atlanta in the '20s. Sure, sometimes it is over the top, and calling out the riot squad would be the best solution. "Mushroom Maniac," "King of the Couch," and the wild "Art Fag Shuffle" are some of the more enjoyable tracks. Moaning about some of this material being offensive is besides the point. Nixon's audience always hangs in a kind of delightfully confused limbo, laughing over the fact that someone else is offended until they are actually offended by something themselves. The workaday accompaniment of Roper is effective, and a regular straight man is an appealing part of the Nixon early days. But it is easy to see why he didn't need this regular partner in order to get his point across. Whatever that is. ~ Eugene Chadbourne, All Music Guide
This is the collection that started it all for Mojo Nixon, meaning this is the recording equivalent of the broken lock on the barnyard door. The record has shown up over the years on several different labels, sometimes known as just plain Mojo & Skid. It reveals this dynamic duo at their vibrant best, putting across an instrumental conceit that weds a kind of old-timey instrumentation with a whisky-soaked, poetry-slam mentality. In one sense the duo can be imagined playing on a street corner in Atlanta in the '20s. Sure, sometimes it is over the top, and calling out the riot squad would be the best solution. "Mushroom Maniac," "King of the Couch," and the wild "Art Fag Shuffle" are some of the more enjoyable tracks. Moaning about some of this material being offensive is besides the point. Nixon's audience always hangs in a kind of delightfully confused limbo, laughing over the fact that someone else is offended until they are actually offended by something themselves. The workaday accompaniment of Roper is effective, and a regular straight man is an appealing part of the Nixon early days. But it is easy to see why he didn't need this regular partner in order to get his point across. Whatever that is. ~ Eugene Chadbourne, All Music Guide