Golf Shirt Records
For eight years, I have been miserable and didn’t know it. Oh, sure, I met the woman of my dreams, have an amazing day job, got a masters degree, bought a house, and generally lived the American Dream, but all of was a hollow shell of the happiness I could have felt had Rockingham been in my life. Eight years since the last Nerf Herder studio album (and eight years since our SWEET FUCKING INTERVIEW WITH THEM), Rockingham power chords its way into your brain, kicking your auditory receptors in the junk for no good reason.
From ridiculing the many stereotypes of Portland to obsessing over women from a Shutterstock image, Parry Gripp reveals a glimmer of hope that maybe I’m not as much of a dweeb as I probably (read: definitely) am. Rockingham is nerdy, desperate, funny, and ultimately as pure Nerf Herder as I could have ever hoped for. Nerf Herder hasn’t changed their essence, but they’ve distilled it, refined it, made it dorkier than ever. If you’ve ever cos-played, had an in-depth argument on whether Motley Crue or Whitesnake were the better hair metal band (the answer is Steel Panther, FYI), or thought the mom from the Capri Sun commercial was the hottest girl in the world, Rockingham is the record for you.