White rappers generally divide into two camps: the Beastie Boys disciples and the House of Pain clique. For the former, honky hip-hop has nothing to do with the African-American experiences that gave birth to the rap form; rather, it is borrowed to express the middle-class, often suburban, ennui that comes from too much pop culture and too much time on one's hands. In the latter, groups attempt to co-opt the Afrocentrism and identity worship from black rap and use it as a template for their own particular ethnic trumpeting--Irish, in HOP's case. On their debut album, Use Your Fingers, Bloodhound Gang make it clear which group they expect to be confused with: "No, I'm not the guy from the Beastie Boys!" yells Jimmy Pop (or is it his partner Daddy Long Legs?). Hailing from suburban Philadelphia, BG are a self-contained frat party dying to offend anyone who'll listen with their often hilarious, in-your-face political incorrectness. They fight for their right to be moronic throughout--whether worshiping Rip Taylor or invoking the Cavity Creeps from an old toothpaste ad. It's not all just fat-chick and cripple jokes, though: BG back up their obnoxious idiocy with some fairly wise musical maneuvering. While their age and background lead them to repeatedly mine the '80s for material--Duran Duran and Cure samples, Michael Jackson and Blondie interpolations, a "Kids in America" cover--their sly comments and ingenious a cappella snippets prove they're surprisingly sharp and able lads. --Roni Sarig