Junior Senior has officially melted my cold, cold musical heart. Disgusted by the plethora of substandard crap being flung across the airwaves these days, I told my sister my dilemma. She said I needed Junior Senior therapy to help me with this crisis. Ok, so I plopped their CD entitled D-d-don’t Stop the Beat into my player and adjusted my cranium-cradling headphones. Weird sounds filled my head. I heard influences of B-52’s, some old school new wave, some fifties handclapping and a huge helping of House and Disco. I even heard an ironic Dylanesque dance tune. All I could think was, “Whom are these idiots making this exultant noise and would anyone really buy this camp crap? They sound like Hair-freakin’-Cut One Hundred. I want something intellectual and stimulating like Morrissey.”

So I did a Google search and found out that Junior Senior are the darlings of the press. Every review of their CD had five stars and Rolling Stone called them “Pop’s hot new odd couple.” This is because Senior is a carbohydrate-challenged gay man prone to wearing day-glo visors and Junior is the skinny little straight guy. Their song “Chicks and Dicks” is a call and response number in which they state their preferences over an irresistible beat beckoning one to the dance floor.

I was still in the unconverted state at this time, and trying to figure out why this band felt it was a melodic requirement for me to “Shake your coconuts/coco boys/until that nut comes out/coco girls…” How utterly juvenile and harebrained!

So I slept on it, and had another listen to the CD after I returned from work the following day. Suddenly, a feeling of great euphoria washed over me and my feet began to stir of their own accord. I listened to “Move Your Feet” seven times in a row and danced my ass off on the concrete of my back porch (know my shins are going to regret that later).

Then I listened to the rest of the album. Although I still don’t care for “Shake Me Baby” all that much, this is a really great dance record. It will be one that, I would venture to guess, would be played at many house parties to come. I just hope the press is wrong in assuming they are one-hit wonders. Even if they are, this is as good as “World Clique” or the first B-52’s album.

I spent the rest of the evening walking around the house mumbling “Go Junior! Go Senior!” and didn’t feel at all silly about it at all.

I’m probably preaching to the choir if the reviews are any indication, but hey—Junior Senior are just plain fun. I think the joy of this CD lies in the spirit these two musician/rappers possess. They understand kitsch without trying too hard, and their exuberance is infectious.

So screw Morrissey. I’d rather dance.