D.A. Wallach and Maxwell Drummey make both the thought and the execution of casual sex seem like everything that it should be cracked up to be. It's everything that we've always dreamed of. It sounds like it feels just like it's supposed to feel like. The lead singer and songwriter - respectively -- for the Cambridge, Massachusetts, rock and roll group, Chester French, have no problem letting their characters or personas be promiscuous, or letting them be with a woman who is equally promiscuous - at least in lyrics. The songs never get raunchy or taken over the top, but maintain a sense of jet-setting wonder, of hopping from city-to-city, with potential ladies in all of them, loving all of them equally, giving them all of the attention that they deserve.
Wallach sings about groupies in a way that a writer sings about real love the romantic kind and girls that don't know they're groupies, the kinds of girls that you want to take home to your mother. It's just that there are gobs and gobs of women that he wants to take home to his mother and he's finding it hard to choose.
There's the girl in "She Loves Everybody," who happens to love everybody. It doesn't change the way he feels about her. He might just see a lot of himself in her and for that, he admires her. It doesn't diminish the way that he feels when he's around her. Practice makes perfect. It's the girls in "Bebe Buell," who are the most likely to be the ones getting the short end of the stick when the dust settles and the bus makes its 3 am lobby call for the overnight to the next city. There will be that intense couple of hours and then a sad goodbye, followed by a few hours of video gaming with the boys as they wind down their evenings. Wallach and Drummey make their characters feel compassionate, singing at one point that these aren't groupie songs because he actually feels something, but there's no getting around the short visits and the predictable middle of the night departure that takes place every night.
These aren't the crude shenanigans of LMFAO or the like, but likely those of someone who's lucked into the bizarre world of pomp and privilege - or the illusion of it. Wallach sings about thinking that he needs his fix and trying to climb the charts, "Tryin' to buy myself a house in the Hills," which is heard like a need to perpetuate the dream, to keep it rolling. He sings, "I'm in town and you're down/So, let's go," and it leads where it leads, for a few hours, at least.