The Hangover starts off with a brief intro skit: It’s the morning after, in a hotel somewhere in the States. The phone rings, and an Aussie bloke answers – on the other end, a wake-up call from some smarmy-voiced Yank. In just those few seconds of introduction there’s your metaphor for the rest of the album: an Aussie staying in an American hotel. Funkoar’s latest will be the soundtrack to a few thousand summer parties over New Years – it’s bouncy, cheeky, breezy hip-hop.

 

 

The Hangover is strongly produced and executed with absolute confidence by its Adelaide MCs, with ‘Black Sally’ the best example: a plodding beat seamlessly tying together flowing raps and a catchy refrain. But the problem is that it all seems to take place in that American hotel. There’s no denying that Funkoars wear the party rap style like a glove – unfortunately, it never gets beyond seeming like something they just wear: an affectation, somehow disingenuous and hollow. The Hangover is fun but you’d never call it genuine. Kind of like a one night stand.