The Moldy Peaches were somehow lumped into those “return of New York rock” puff pieces at the turn of the decade, despite the fact that they rocked about as hard as the fluid in Grandma’s goiter. The booger-eating moron brainchild of the two of the most grating people on the planet, the Moldy Peaches were the equivalent of a seventh-grader from gifted class screeching “Cheese monkey!” at bullies until they were too sad and confused to give him the beating he so clearly deserved. More »