TEN BENSON'S BENSON BURNER

Once upon a time, there lived a place called British Land. British Land was famous for two kinds of music: experimental electronic music, and faggy pop rock. One day, it was 2003. British Land and Americasville-- a neighboring country, floating East, across the ocean-- were overrun by millions of evil bands made up of skinny little boys in tight clothing, constantly pushing their shaggy hair out of their too-cool-for-school eyes. Local women locked their doors and cotton-balled their ears to muffle the wimpy, sensitive sound. The men were too afraid to fight the invasion, out of fear that they, too, would become gender-bending trends. And the children-- oh, the children. They simply prayed, day in and day out, for a savior to deliver them from such Cockney evil.
One day, a great rumbling occurred. The ground began to part, and from deep within the Earth, fire shot forth, burning all in its path. Out of the ashes rose a mighty rock phoenix named Ten Benson. Ten Benson annihilated all pussy-ass diary-rockers in their way to ultimate rock 'n' roll. They launched wicked songs about titties and war (Well, fuck my cock-- two of my favorite things!), and put the “hell, yeah” back into kick-ass rock songs.
Eventually, this phoenix was harnessed into a studio or two to record an album for the blind, suffering masses. And through the power of modern industry, it was released to record stores.
It’s called Benson Burner, and if you don’t get it, you’ll wind up dying alone, most likely. Just imagine the uber-coital power of the Electric Six, with the soul-burning darkness of Black Sabbath. That’s what Benson Burner is. Despite the crappy artwork-- and, man, does it blow, save for the kick-ass picture of them carrying some unconscious chicks in panties through the woods-- this album is sex, and you should buy it. That’s how this story ends happily ever after.
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