THAT’S WHAT YOU GET

There are rock 'n' roll eccentrics and rock 'n' roll eccentrics. Then there's That's What You Get. That's What You Get, a duo from climate-challenged Minneapolis whose madcap pop concoctions are nothing short of electrifyingly bizarre, undeniably catchy, and, in many a chorus, bridge or verse, absolutely, stunningly, gobsmackingly hilarious. The band paint a portrait of urban blight that's as bound to make you wince in recognition (if you are a city slicker, or even if you've spent one day in one) as make you guffaw.

L.A., South Florida, the club scene, the tourist traps, the streets and bars and fast food joints of Any-Megatropolis USA--these are the environs that provide the fodder for That's What You Get's take on modern existence. If we can even call it that nowadays. For Mike Reagan and Dawn Sauvignon are gutter poets both of the first water--and the water is something they're both splashing around in, spraying champagne around in, like a demented Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald for the new millennium.