This is one bloody weird album. Following up on their eponymous debut album and two pretty spiff eps, the Hunnas decamped to Germany to record with Conny Plank. This marked the height of their industrial funk melange, before Greg Perano, later to convene The Deadly Hume, was dispatched when his 'arty' persuasions jarred with Mark Seymour's plans for the group. With The Fireman's Curse however, they were bunkered down in the Shire of Paranoia, Seymour bursting forth an sneering contempt of the Australian condition as the band cranked out a sound reminiscent of the Gang of Four, Tom Waits, and the projects of fellow traveller Nick Cave, though definately marching to the beat of their own gas cylinder. They refined this sound on their next album, The Jaws of Life, which marked the midpoint between their seminal art-junk cacophony and the "classic" blue singlet phase. Later on, after their commercial peak, they recaptured some of that fear and loathing on 1994's Demon Flower, perhaps spurred somewhat by Jeff Kennett's term in Victoria, but with a more world-weary, measured outlook.