Barnes & Noble
After years of proclaiming himself the Antichrist, this Windy City wacko has had something of an epiphany, finally recognizing that Beelzebub's true earthly representative is none other than George W. Bush. This quasi-rock opera approaches that topic from a number of angles, all of which combine the chilling and the rib-tickling to maximum effect. Bobby Conn and his Glass Gypsies flit readily from the string-laden neo-disco of "Relax" (a sort of gene-splice of John Shaft and Pat Robertson) and the 10cc-styled prog-pop of "We're Taking Over the World" (which unites shadowy Masons, radio conglomerate executives, and Lone Star oilmen in a vast right-wing power play). Conn's quavery voice lends itself to all manner of grandiose swooping, and he takes full advantage of that, sneering through the glammy "The Style I Need" -- which, with typical irony, assails the glamour obsession of a post-Botox world -- and the survivalist power ballad "Home Sweet Home." Pop culture references and in-jokes abound, but Conn always leaves the door cracked far enough to allow real-world worries to seep in -- as he proves by bookending the 14-track disc with couplets that tell the whole story, beginning with an unctuous "We are your friends, we come in peace / we brought our guns to set you free" and ending with an ominous "If you're willing to die for what you believe, we're happy to kill you all...for the homeland." File next to Dr. Strangelove for apocalyptic slapstick. David Sprague
All Music Guide
Operating on the premise that it's better to laugh about your worries than cry about them, Bobby Conn's Homeland skewers the climate of America's political and popular culture under the second Bush administration. With lyrics like "If you're willing to die for what you believe/Then we're happy to kill you all," from the closing track, "Ordinary Violence," it's clear that this album is full of the kind of humor that comes out of deep frustration. And while Conn may be preaching to the converted -- virtually anyone familiar with his music is more than likely to share at least some of his views -- Homeland is still an entertaining sermon. Conn & the Glass Gypsies' theatrical mix of glam, hard rock, pop, disco, and virtually anything else that tickles their fancy works surprisingly well as a vehicle for their anger; the pomposity of the title track alone captures the arrogance of the Ugly American quite well. That also goes for the glammy epic "We're Taking Over the World" and off-kilter mod rock of "We Come in Peace," which neatly sums up the hypocrisy the group sees in the war on Iraq: "We brought our guns to set you free." The album is equally witty musically and lyrically, with couplets like "Home Sweet Home"'s "You know, ironic distance isn't very far/This rifle has a range of two thousand yards" matched by the coked-out disco ode to George W. Bush, "Relax." Homeland branches out to social commentary on tracks like "The Style I Need," which decries the emptiness of nipped and tucked perfection with a pop-metal backdrop, and the soft rock sellout of "Cashing Objections." Conn finds problems everywhere he turns in his Homeland; the only time he's truly happy is drunk in London on "Bus No. 243," a song whose insurgent, swinging '60s pop is one of the album's highlights. Despite the album's collage of styles -- which is business as usual for Conn -- Homeland is possibly his most finely honed album, which makes sense given its overriding concept. Even though it loses a bit of focus by the time "My Special Friend" rolls around, the album's mix of decadent sounds and principled outrage is still interesting. Homeland may not be music for the ages, but it does cast a sharply satirical gaze at its own time. Heather Phares