Merry Pranksters

NO-CLASS CLOWNS: The Bloodhound Gang, here in their Royersford studio, reveal their formula: "As long as we talk about trying to get laid in every song, people will leave us alone," says Jimmy Pop (second from left). Photo By: Michael T. Regan

The Bloodhound Gang gets back to their old tricks.

by Andrew Parks

Their only hit is a 5-year-old gay disco tune about doing it Discovery Channel-style. So, why should anyone care about the Bloodhound Gang's trio of TLA shows this weekend?

"We'll make this easy for you," says guitarist Lupus Thunder. "If you have questions about anything getting done, the answer is no. And the answer to when? "Eh."'

In fact, until recently the suburban Philadelphia band hadn't even played

together in two and a half years. Bassist Evil Jared

Hasselhoff

says they haven't even been in the same room since their manager's 30th birthday party two years ago.

The reason for their extended vacation is nearly 19 consecutive months of touring behind Hooray for Boobies (Interscope). The experience was so trying and traumatic that vocalist Jimmy Pop remembers the first and last days down to the date (May 26, 1999; Dec.16, 2000).

"You know it's bad when you've played the town of Malmo, Sweden, three times on a tour," he says.

But the band recently got a bump when Michael Moore used one of their songs for Fahrenheit 9/11, and now that they're well-rested and before they head out on tour, they'll play three straight nights to a hometown crowd, doing what they do best.

"We don't really know how to play music," says bassist Evil Jared. "But we do a lot of shtick onstage. Usually, we just go into a town and make jokes about them."

Making fun of Philadelphia should be easy, since all five members live just outside King of Prussia in Royersford, (estimated 2005 population: 4,250). Ween living in New Hope: Now that's believable. But the Bloodhound Gang steals riffs from Sugar Ray and samples Falco, Frankie Goes to Hollywood and Metallica in the span of a song ("Mope"). Hell, they even asked Rob Van Winkle (aka Vanilla Ice) to rap over the song "Boom." Shouldn't they be in California or something?

"As important as L.A. is as the center of the music industry, there's nothing to do once the bars close," says guitarist Lupus Thunder, the last member to move to cow country. "It's also expensive and dirty. I could go on for an hour about how much I hate it."

You can't get much further removed from L.A. than Dome Studios: a cavernous rehearsal space behind a beaten path and down gravelly, sandy steps in a secluded section of Royersford. If the Bloodhound Gang has a Batcave, it's beneath the studio's sloping 20-foot ceiling and piss-yellow foam padding.

If it ever comes out, the Hooray for Groupies DVD will reveal the debauchery behind the band's eventual dissolution. For now, the sources are sipping cans of Pabst (un-ironically, by the way) and sharing these road stories like a room of reunited college buddies.

"I ended up drinking a bunch of single malts with my father and getting a blowjob in the back of the bus," says Evil Jared, of a show in Canada. "Beyond my knowledge, it was a hooker that my father and the owner of the club paid for."

"I screwed this girl bareback on the bus all the way across Canada because the drives were so boring," adds Jimmy Pop.

The tour itinerary was about more than sex and Scotch, though. There were also injuries. One was so unbelievable and crude it belongs on an episode of South Park. See, the Bloodhound Gang once had a tradition of giving people wedgies onstage. This lasted until someone yanked a girl's panties so hard, she supposedly couldn't get her tampon out. "We tried recreating that same scenario 10 different times with our sound guy's girlfriend and never once did she lose it," Evil Jared says. "The string was always two inches out."

On another night, a guy was forearming people in the crowd. The band brought him onstage and gave him two options: leave, or spend the rest of the show on top of a speaker. He chose the latter and wound up diving off the speaker, severely injuring a crowd member. "We were trying to punish the guy," Evil Jared says. "We didn't tell him to jump off a speaker."

The only thing that's kept the Bloodhound Gang relevant recently is the use of "Fire Water Burn" in Fahrenheit 9/11. The song illustrated the music that's scoring the bombs and bloodlust of soldiers in Iraq.

"It was almost as cool as when they used us in Half Baked, another political movie," Jimmy Pop says, laughing. "Really, we're not political machines. For our own livelihood, we should probably vote for Kerry, though, since Bush is so crazy on censorship."

An argument over Kerry's gun-control policy (guns = bad) ensues. Evil Jared apparently has quite the gun collection. Before things get ugly, though, we steer the conversation into what the band has really been doing for the past couple years: corrupting pop stars. Press reports of the Bloodhound Gang smoking and drinking with 'N Sync are only a smidgen of the story.

"You freaked Justin [Timberlake] out by screaming, "You gonna go onstage drunk?!"' Jimmy Pop says to Evil Jared. "And Justin was all trying to swear, like, "Nah, we've got a lot of shit to remember, so I've got to wait until afterward to get loaded."'

Britney Spears didn't have a problem drinking, though. Neither did Lupus Thunder, who stole her lighter.

"Seeing [Britney] drink out of a bottle of Jack and smoke was a bit creepy," Jimmy Pop says.

If it weren't for his pervasive tendency to piss off everyone from the gay community to porn stars, people would realize just what a songwriting genius Jimmy Pop is. Like "Weird" Al, only talented, he realizes what a caricature his band is and what role it plays in the scheme of pop music. This self-awareness crops up in many of his songs, including "Fire Water Burn," which proclaims, "Hello, I'm Jimmy Pop and I'm a dumb white guy" and "I'm not black like Barry White/ I'm white like Frank Black is."

"As long as we talk about trying to get laid in every song, people will leave us alone," he says. "We're lucky because we don't have a genre. It may not be good for the public, because it means we still have careers, but we don't have to worry about trends. Other bands may have purposes, but we don't."

The group hopes to renew whatever purpose it does have on their brief European tour. Once it wraps up, they plan on finishing their fourth album, with a tentative release date in spring 2005. Don't hold your breath, though. MTV last reported the album would be done at the end of 2003.

Recording sessions actually began back in April of 2001, leaving about half of the songs finished. DJ Q-Ball tosses two tracks on a nearby boombox: "Pennsylvania" and "Ralph Wiggum," which is constructed entirely of quotes from the popular Simpsons character. The power-pop hooks of both (with nary a rap or turntable scratch in sight) sounds like something Weezer would write. Ironically enough, Jimmy Pop and Q-Ball showed Rivers Cuomo around Pennsylvania very recently.

"He's kind of introverted," Jimmy Pop says. "I spilled a 24-ounce of Wawa coffee on him and he didn't say anything. He just walked around with this big coffee patch on his pants."

The comment leaves us right back where we started, which, again, is recalling stories like a room of college buddies rather than talking about writing or working. Since this could go on all night, we'll leave you with some advice from Evil Jared and Jimmy Pop, respectively.

"The hot chicks you went to high school with will turn out to be pigs."

"And the pigs from high school blossom, except for us."

Bloodhound Gang will perform Fri.-Sat., July 23-24, 9 p.m., Sun., July 25, 8 p.m., $15, TLA, 334 South St., 215-336-2000, www.cc.com.