By Jesse Cataldo
The members of Bunky were having fun when they recorded “Born to be a Motorcycle,” and it shows. It practically drips out of the recording, like sound drifting up from a wild party next door, shooting streamers and brightly colored balloons into your ears. This all seems great, until you realize that you’re not invited and really, no one likes you anyway. The point is it’s no fun to listen to other people having fun, especially when you’re not in on the joke.
There are two possible explanations behind the absurdity of Born to be a Motorcycle, and neither is very satisfying. The first is that Bunky is just dealing us absurdity for its own sake, in an effort to give their album a feeling of cheeky spontaneity. The second is that the band allowed their personal references to spill out in the recording process, leaving us on the outside of some grand inside joke. This seems likely, since the name Bunky is formed from the combination of “bunny” and “monkey,” two of the band members pet names for each other. Either way, some of this can be enjoyed on a purely nonsensical level. The line “girl, you know you look so pretty in that dinosaur outfit” is pretty amusing any way you slice it. But oh Bunky, where is the context? All of this random silliness just makes an album which already has a hard time staying focused into even more of a mess. Even the afformentioned dinosaur line is just dropped out of nowhere into the middle of “Boy/Girl,” like a stone with a funny face painted on it falling out of the sky. Sure, it’s entertaining, but what does it all mean?
“Chuy” shows how good of an album this could have been if the band had stopped messing around and got down to business. The horn work is expert and exciting all around, especially “yes/no,” where it leads a shuffling creep with its triumphant bursts. “Heartbunk,” which opens with a slinky trumpet and seductive female vocal, drips a kind of sly sexuality, which seems out of place, but works nonetheless. The chorus of “I Was Born to be a Motorcycle” might be the albums best moment, but the energy it creates is completely sucked away by the singsongy nonsense of the rest of the song.
Ultimately, Bunky gets so wrapped up in its lo-fi absurdity that it’s constantly tripping over itself. Meanwhile, the audience is left peeking in through an outside window.

The Chronicle gives “Born To Be A Motorcycle”, by Bunky two 1/2 out of five stars.