There's a checklist of things to do on the back of this CD -- "Record CD, Make Art, Eat Pizza, Beer!!, Think of album title." The last one's not checked off, and thus We Couldn't Think of a Title is the title, and a better one than any the band come up with on the opening track, "Indecision."
Meet Psychostick, a hardcore band who just can't take anything seriously, not even their debut album. There again, music is merely a means to an end, as the group proclaim on "In a Band to Get Chicks." Well, at least they're not in it for the money, or are they? Certainly "Fake My Own Death and Go Platinum" suggests otherwise. Apparently, Psychostick have never had a thought that they didn't turn into a song. The wash is piling up? They write a song called "I Hate Doing Laundry" about it. Their car's always breaking down? They give it a stiff talking to on "Two Ton Paperweight." An embarrassing itch in their nether regions? "Scrotal Torment" is the result. And then there's the always popular "Beer!" and "The Jagermeister Love Song." But for all the entertaining juvenile humor within, there's also an intelligence at work here, bitter twists of lyrical themes, and a sharp eye for a culture that needs its come-uppance. "Prozak Milkshake" is a quite brilliant example of the latter, where our heroes veer off into emo land and berate themselves nearly to suicide, before putting the blame precisely where it belongs, on their mother the bitch, then wander off to get some french fries. "Why Oh Why" delves into the emotional morass as well, a lovely, melodic love-lost song that takes a surprising twist towards the end. And Psychostick are the kings of the unexpected twist, be it the glorious opening of "Good Morning" that abruptly turns into a hardcore horror wake-up call, or the sweet, acoustic guitar that accompanies the self-explanatory themed "Orgasm = Love." Musically, those numbers are the exception, Psychostick mostly work in the hardcore, metalcore vein. This album, which at times reaches crass proportions, won't be to everyone's taste, but for those with a sense of humor, it will leave your sides aching. [As the back cover points out, there's a hidden track between tracks eighteen and nineteen.]