Imagine a few drunken frat boys got together one night and decided it would be “totally rad” to make a punk album, recording on a roommate’s iBook. Well, you don’t have to imagine it because it sounds like KCUF went ahead and did it.

Where, oh where to begin? First, the obvious- their name: KCUF. Hmm. Notice the intricate subtleties of layered depth hidden beneath the clearly satirical feminist agitprop subtext… Um, sure. Not quite the French Connection UK, is it? But this is what young men must resort to naming their band when the actual F-word is already another band’s name.

Modern Primitive Punk “features” (as though this is some great added bonus!) guest appearances from members of System of a Down, Korn, and Slipknot. Quite an invigorating lineup of talent, no? Sorry, I know what they say about sarcasm being the lowest form of wit, so I’ll try to contain myself from now on. Anyhow, the pedigree of these guests gives some hint as to the quality of the album itself.

But punk is punk, right? How hard can it be to play three chords and howl into the mic? Image is nothing! Isn’t the whole punk aesthetic all about just doing things your own way and not giving a damn about what anyone else thinks? Well, if that’s the case, KCUF prove their punk-ness with their sound, which is murky, amateurishly mixed, unpleasantly raw, and vocally and lyrically unintelligible except for the numerous swear words. That’s pretty punk, all right!

Here’s an example of what KCUF pass off as a song. The track is titled “Josh” and it runs for 1:30. Over a generic punk RAWK!! riff, the singer screams, “Josh is a [sexual epithet]! He [expletive] his dad! Oh, it hurt so bad! He was a queer!” It’s hard to make out the ridiculous words shouted by one of the other band members throughout the song because it sounds like they recorded the track through a half-empty peanut butter jar. If there were any hint of irony present whatsoever, this song still wouldn’t be amusing. As it stands, it’s mind-boggling how KCUF managed to get this rubbish recorded, much less distributed.

KCUF try to make the album “fun” by throwing in a few wasteful skits here and there. All of these come off as wasteful (come to think of it, their actual songs come off as wasteful. Note to self: buy a thesaurus and get some more adjectives). Track five, so cleverly titled “The 5th,” features the band members talking about their craft. Humorous as this concept is, KCUF fails again, as excessive, thoughtless vulgarity do not automatically guarantee laughter. Worse, DJ Starscream takes a vocal sample from “The 5th” and drags out a “remix” of a bandmember repeating “the sh—“ over and over for another 1:44. So what started as a pointless 42 second skit ends up wasting nearly an entire two and a half minutes! Coincidentally, there ought to be a law against hijacking the name of a cool Decepticon and using it as your DJ name. Hasbro should sue!

Elsewhere, KCUF try to sound profound on the song “Cockstar.” (Note the creativity involved in the song-naming process.) The singer introduces the song by saying, “As a singer, I feel that singing is overrated, so there are no words on this song. Make up your own words, f---ers!” KCUF then proceed to bash the hell out of their instruments. After listening to this song a bunch of times over the course of writing this review, I find myself chagrined that the song isn’t bad at all, once you get past the lame intro. It’s amazing what potential KCUF have when they shut up.

Almost amazingly, KCUF closes the album by making burping and farting noises, but by the time you get to the end, it’s hard to be surprised by anything immature. “Chestermonkeydump” is over a minute and a half of the band making farting and burping noises, complete with toilet flushing sounds, and laughing at their own fart jokes. Again, there’s no hint of irony to be found, no winking at the camera at all. It really is as though the band actually think they are hilarious. It’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Maybe it’s humorous, but unintentionally so.

When it comes to album reviews, there’s Bad, and there’s I Must Warn Others. When the best track on Modern Primitive Punk, by far, is “Goldfish,” a 2 second interlude track, you know the rest of the album can’t be good. “Goldfish” sounds like the sound a scratched CD makes when it skips but at least it’s over quickly. I advise you to skip this CD. Is it punk? It’s punkass! Emphasis on the rear end.