On their notorious second album, went to great lengths to debunk the daisy-age hippie image they'd been pigeonholed with, titling the record and putting a picture of wilting daisies in a broken flowerpot on the cover. Critics and fans alike were puzzled as to why the group was seemingly rejecting what had been hailed as the future of , and neither the reviews nor the charts were kind to the album. It isn't that try to remake their sound here -- keeps the skit-heavy structure of the debut, and the surreal tone and inventive sampling techniques are still very much in evidence. But, despite a few lighthearted moments ( the -flavored ), a distinct note of bitterness has crept into 's once-sunny outlook. On the one hand, they're willing to take on more serious subject matter; two of the album's most powerful moments are the unsettling incest tale and ' drug-addiction chronicle both true-life occurrences. Yet other tracks betray a brittle, insular state of mind; one running skit features a group of street thugs who ultimately throw the album in the trash for not having enough pimps, guns, or curse words. There are vicious parodies of , and the single complains about being harassed into listening to lousy demo tapes. Plus, the negativity of the bizarre, half-sung and the hostile narrator on seemingly comes out of nowhere. is clearly the product of a group staggering under the weight of expectations, yet even if it's less cohesive and engaging, it's still often fascinating in spite of its flaws. ~ Steve Huey