Komplettes MP3 Album von Ivor Biggun
Angegebene Spieldauer: 63:27
Veröffentlichungsdatum: 2005-10-19
Kurz-Beschreibung von CDbaby: The Pharaoh of Phonographic Filth returns with all new tasteless tunes - Guaranteed to disgust. Explicit lyrics - Not suitable for under 18 years old, minors, miners or mynahs.

Käufer, die sich für (Judge Dread Kevin ’Bloody’ Wilson Blowfly) interessieren sollten sich dieses Album anhören.

Weitere Informationen vom Distributor:
Born the son of John Thomas Allcock and the nephew of George Formby’s ukulele tech (allegedly), Ivor Biggun was destined for a life in showbiz. However, it wasn’t until 1972, while cruising the Caribbean as trombonist with Lord Crabs and The Clam Divers, that the epiphany that was to shape his destiny occurred.

Charles Edward ’Chuck’ Berry was the poet laureate of rock ’n’ roll with his compositions covered by spotty English boys with bad hair and tight trousers. Despite decades of critical acclaim the white boys always had more success so Chuck was forced to reveal his insight into the true source of teen gratification, that which goes beyond cars and girls. He exposed his secret weapon, the song no pretentious pansies could ever cover and, with "My Ding-a-ling", wanking was finally on the lyrical agenda. The public made it Chuck’s only No.1 smash hit and Ivor, a natural born wanker, was inspired.

Diverted by his packed schedule, it wasn’t until 1978 that Ivor finally followed Chuck into the top 21 with "The Winker’s Song (misprint)" and a career in briefs followed with three albums of frivolous filth (unashamed plug - highlights are available on the compilation "The Fruity Bits of Ivor Biggun"). Ivor went on gardening leave in 1987 to grow rude shaped vegetables only to resurface 18 years later with sticky hands and a brand new album.

So what, dear reader, will convince you of the benefits of Handling Swollen Goods? Should we tell you it’s Ivor’s most consistent and musical opus yet with a mere four songs about masturbation? He now sings of his other interests like domestic animals, sh*gging, sh*tting and shaving. The songs are performed in a clutch of genre defying styles embracing soul, country, calypso, gospel, oom-pah, mambo, Hawaiian and electro-pop and all are as infectiously catchy as... ok, let’s not go there. PLUS, there are 2 stonking Christmas songs that every office party should enjoy and employ. Let’s just say the 21 tracks are stuffed with ribald, absurd and creative rhymes, the mundane and profane elevated beyond Python, vaudeville and Williams McGonagall and Shakespeare.