This is what I want to tell Gogol Bordello: I get it. You are eccentric. You are clever. You are doing this wild and crazy pan-ethnic thing that is yours and yours alone. You are boring me to tears. The frenetic and nonsensical Soviet-punk aesthetic was really great for a couple records, but it’s getting to the shtick-y side. It’s a real struggle to listen to Trans-Continental Hustle in its entirety; I felt tired and over-stimulated after about two songs (though let it be noted that “My Companjera” is the best of the bunch). While I’m sure the accordion and Ukrainian violin solos are going to translate really well to the stage (Bordello is famous for its energetic and forceful shows), it’s tough to listen to in your car or at home. It’s the aural equivalent of a screaming 2-year-old who claws at your legs until you pick him up and devote your total attention to his tantrum. This most certainly is a record that requires patience.