I hate all David Bowie hits except maybe suffragette city as it’s not glitzy glam pop. I’ll never understand how we as a society take run of the mill pop and turn it into a profound artistic statement because we like the artist’s personality. However, I know he can be weird and I’m hoping this one is. 6 tracks, 38 minutes certainly tells some kind of story. This sounds like Beavis & Butthead transition music so far which is honestly far better than rebel rebel or anything of that nature. Aaaand here come the vocals. Rock opera. Ugh. There are moments where I believe this is cool. There are many others where the piano and disco kicks in. What the hell is this? Ah man. No good. Elton John piano licks without any of the fun. Is it too late to skip this? Wow guys, this disco song is slightly longer than normal AND the singer has a wacky haircut. This is equivalent to great literature. This sucks. Fuck. Riverboat music. Fat rich cottage goer tunes. I don’t think I can fairly listen to this. I just think he’s insufferable. The bad part is that there are cool ideas that I could see myself enjoying. Some of the vocal harmonies at times sound cool. Lots of sounds. There’s just a general poppiness that I can’t stand. Sounded like death grips for a second. Unfortunately it’s still me in the grip of a cruise ship based nightmare. Why is this crooning over a karaoke steely dan instrumental considered “must-hear”? Is this also Christian? Holy hell. Washed up musician having an evangelical breakdown whilst on barbiturates during a reunion show at a local casino “type beat”. Hail Satan and bring on more pedestrian tripe! Right on cue. Oh baby, the bow tie on the wedding singer is loose now. Everybody is a few loonie drinks in. Time for some more riverboat jingles. It would be fun, sort of like a massive artist, to see what I could pass off as quality based off my name alone. They have to have tried it. traaaaaaaansition. I actually don’t hate the saxophone. There’s something!!!! It’s weird and good. Stay?? Why don’t you go?? Hahahah. Man I’m good. This song has actually sent me into hysterics. These vocals can’t be real. NO. There’s no fucking way. You can’t like this. These vocals or satire. This is making fun of mid 70’s crooners right? HE CANT SING. This is one of those moments where I feel like I’m in the interstellar universe screaming at an oblivious public from behind a space/time continuum rift. This is not good and I refuse to hear arguments to the contrary. Valueless and one of the worst songs I’ve heard in many years. Thoroughly unlikeable from start to finish, this album is a mix between run of the mill and completely insufferable. Musical competency at points jumps it from zero, but the horrendous singing and pop cheese takes this thing beyond the gutter, into a vat of talentless disco-tinged slop that is gulped down by the ladle by buffoons because it has David Bowie’s face slapped on it. Worthless as a psychedelic experience, even worse as a musical one. HIGHLIGHTS: The silence following the final track.

I don’t think I can do this. It’s just a pop album right? I know as a man, this probably isn’t targeted towards me, but I mean it’s starting with a song that would have a 10am slot on a light rock radio station. Money changes everything. I wish it changed the chorus. I’ve never heard this next song. Girls? Having fun? Nah I’ve heard this song actually. In every gas station, roller rink, shopping mall, grocery store, dentist office, tv show, bus depot, and terrorism hostage video since I was born. It’s not for me. I actually don’t hate this one. It’s got that sort of melancholy 80’s tone that appeals to me at times. It’s kind of nice to start. Although the lyrics are dumb and again the repetition is just so gratuitous. It wears out its welcome. Pass. Every tv/movie prom scene ever. Man this album had the hits. Again, what can I say? I hate this song. I really don’t understand the appeal. It’s pop. Is this supposed to be a “great work” like the Beatles stuff we’ve heard or even fun like Boston? These are driving to work radio ballads that are kept on low volume. OH GOD MAKE IT SHE-STOP. This is BRUTAL. That chorus is poison. What is happening. Is she drunk? Off kilter schmaltz with garbage lyrics. Nah. Reggae guitars. The worst genre of music ever to exist seeping into an already bad pop album. This is a mess for me. This one sounded kind of interesting for a second. Kind of driving and cool, but it just devolves into her vocals and other garbage. The weird techno driving is a little cheesy and dated but better than literally anything on this album. Guys. This is kids music. Is this comedy? I’m embarrassed to be listening to this. It’s all too dumb. The lyrics are childish and rote. This album is not good. I get that people have fond memories or really like dim, catchy pop music. Hey I like dumb stuff, but please don’t attempt to make it high art. It’s dumb. End of story. This was unlistenable and made me feel embarrassment, misery and eventually anger that my Spotify algorithm has been ruined by allowing mainstream nonsense to be played. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: None

Cover? Bad. No shrek version of Hallelujah. That’s strike 2 Mr. Wainwright. If that is your real name. I think the title of “Mr. Wainwright” is probably taken by an off-duty oil man who drank the most Jell-O shots at some fly by night bar in the titular northern Alberta town. Stiff competition Rufus. Oh what a world. He omits the “wonderful.” Already a slap in the face of Louis Armstrong. Bold. I respect it. Also, it just dawned on me that ol’ Rufus is Canadian. Huge miss on my end. This music is actually pretty cool. Lush and grandiose. Like it’s bellowing through an empty church. Good atmosphere, but the vocals are not my favourite. That normally doesn’t play out well for the review. Noooooo. No. Nope. In the wise words of that one weird Italian (?) guy from that one “I Think You Should Leave” sketch; “Stinky.” Good lord. Boring and yet somehow also truly terrible. Only a vicious world could produce something this abhorrent. Alright. We’ve truly decided the direction we’re going into I suppose. The melodies continue to disappoint and the vocals continue to stay at the same annoying tone. Things are not going well for the Canadian here. Is it too late to disqualify him for being born in the USA?? I even checked Wikipedia. We all know about divorced dad rock, but have you heard of divorced mom rock? Rufus was making brave new strides in this still burgeoning genre. This was bloated and smelled like wine. I felt empty listening to it. Go or Go Ahead is a brief respite. A little bit more of the emotion I’m looking for. A better melody for starters. Some energy for finishers. It’s, by no means “good,” and it sounds a little bit like Coldplay not looking for radio play, but it provides more than the preceding march through songwriting purgatory. 8 more songs hey? What’s the opposite of Christmas miracle? A Yuletide tragedy? Maybe I’ll trademark that. Nobody beat me to it. Vibrate sounds like the rest of the songs so far. This is an adult Harry Potter enthusiast’s favourite song. Something so very millennial about it. Maybe I need to speak to a doctor. This is the most depressing album I’ve heard in months. Oh good. The same vocal tone again. Should’ve left this stupid vibrato on 14th street pal. Yes, I could’ve made that “joke” on the song “Vibrate,” but I was essentially catatonic listening to this fucking disaster. This song is like a pharmaceutically pacified psych ward patient attempting to sing in a hallmark commercial. Poor Natasha. Nobody deserves this kind of treatment. Bad song. Messy horns. And you guessed it, the same vocal tone. Back to the well. It sounds like he fell down a well and if that would end this, I’d be in favour. My hand would be stuck up in an affirmative vote. 11:11. Make a wish everybody. Shhh don’t tell me or it won’t come true. My wish won’t come true anyway, as I will be listening to the rest of this song and album. I guess the cat is out of the bag. I’m sure it wishes it could go back in the bag. I know I do. Fuck. Another wish down the tubes. How is this not the same song? Please end please end please end please and please end please end please end oh god it’s swelling. Good lord this was atrocious. There’s nothing to even grab onto and make fun of. It’s just the same boring song on repeat. Each track sucks the colour out of the room reaching through the listening device. Vitality vampirism aside, the lyrics weight speak to me and any cool sounds that occurred on the first song were ultimately betrayed in favour of the true intentions of the artist. Apparently those intentions were to exhaust the listener via a barrage of unlistenable songs with a monotone vocal that began to resemble drone music. If nothing else, bad albums are exciting creative outlets for me. “Want One” couldn’t even produce a canvas, let alone the paints in order to produce something of value from this steaming pile of low-budget Coldplay. 0-0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Oh What a World.

This brings to mind the old Buckley’s cough syrup slogan. “It tastes awful, and it works.” Effective advertising if any mention of the common name “Buckley” awakens my mind like a Cold War era capitalist sleeper cell. Hoping this slogan doesn't reflect the list maker’s modus operandi in adding this album the pantheon of mandatory albums. That’s right folks, I’m begging the amorphous entity(s) who compiled this list for an album that indeed sounds good, and works as an entry on this list. Will Tim deliver? We once again don our bell-bottoms and travel to a time before female access to credit cards, in the year of 1972. Take us to LA Timmy B. Fuck. Riverboat song about adultery. Four minutes into hearing somebody and I know everything I need to. The worst guy at a wedding gets too drunk and sings what he remembers of the blues brothers 2 soundtrack. I wish the guy in the song killed him before I had to smell this medical waste barge wafting down a tributary of the Mississippi River. Hey guess what? They didn’t cut off that wedding guy and now he’s doing a Jim Morrison impression while trying to woo a married bridesmaid. Why would I (in any universe) want to hear about this man’s sexual exploits? Why? It’s a theme that is so pervasive in musical history and I simply can’t understand it. Are there good songs that have sexual themes? Yes. I can almost guarantee those songs weren’t explicit. Not that I follow this advice, but brevity is the soul of wit. Try subtlety and maybe an entirely new lyric set and also music, and voice and also don’t release it. Then we’re on to something. You know what. As heinous as adultery is, the other person in this song dodged a bullet. I can’t imagine anything less likeable than this song. I lack words to describe how much I hate this. Oh boy! More fake blues!! INSUFFERABLE WHITE GUY BLUES DRINKING GAME - Now if the singer says any one of the following words - Boogaloo, Momma, Daddy, Redneck, ol’, or anything of the sort. Take a swig. Use bleach for best effects! I am mad at the band for playing behind this. This is another explicit sex song by the world’s least attractive moron. Aren’t you excited?? If this guy was around 30 years later, he’d absolutely be buying cocaine off of the friends of the minor he was courting and performing horrible Limp Bizkit covers in bars his girlfriend couldn’t get into. Are we serious with this? Reminiscing about fucking a teenager is not a point of relation, Tim. It’s a point of me wanting to quit listening to music. This will be my retirement. Here let me workshop a song from this album. Ok, let me channel my Grover from Sesame Street voice. Ahem. “Ahhh girl I’m your daddio and you’re 14 and I’m drunk on rum, how about I engage in inappropriate physical touching and sing about how that makes me an artist. Rahhhhh gurrrrl that’s right I’m your daddio and you’re my sweet child and I swear this Jim Morrison gig is going to pay off some day just wait ahhh.” I hate almost everything about this with a depth I thought unreachable. While the band was good at points, I’m the most disappointed in them. Why? Becausewhat they did was act as a vehicle for this drugged out, talentless moron to detail his laundry list of sex crimes to the applause of near deaf weirdos who comprise the music listening public. I sometimes hate living on this planet. Death does not create depth. Can we not see a project for what it is before and after the demise of somebody? This guy needed to be checked into rehab/jail, and he wasn’t, so we got this album, his death, and the ensuing brain dead applause from the internet’s most self-assured dolts. Now, I’m sure if he WAS checked into rehab, we would’ve gotten more bad music (with a fraction of the praise) a multitude of allegations, and a set of Botox influenced pro-Donald Trump TikToks in about 50 years time. If this album apparently matters, so do lyrics and these were some of the worst I’ve ever read. A complete lack of self-awareness surrounding each disgusting bar. Greetings from L.A. is the sound of a male manipulators final wheeze. I look back to my starry eyed intro to this review and I can say without a doubt that this tasted awful, and unless the objective was to get me to hate music, it did NOT work. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: The Consequences of the Rockstar Lifestyle

Genius? Hey. I’ll be the judge of that. Why, you may ask? Because I’m highly judgemental and type like a Reddit moderator. That’s pretty much good enough for these days. This song was in Mafia 2. Man I’m a cultural savant. This thing runs like a freight train. Hell yeah. Jazz breaks, excellent singing, bombastic (in a good way) big band. “I got 50 cents more than I'm gonna keep” is a god damn “bar” as the kids say. Back down to earth. A little Frank Sinatra-y. Very of the time. Not my favourite. The best band in the land?? Man they must be hyped. Oh wait it’s a different band. Not his band. Anyway. This one is ok. The mix is destroying my eardrums a little but we stride on. Two years of Torture. Pretty decent. Good even. More smooth. A little too smooth. Still loving the jazz interludes. The quiet moments in this one are nice. Deed I Do is real good. Blues, jazz, quality vocals. Yes. This is what I want. Excellent blues, mixed with jazz piano. Soulful music with some complexity thrown in. Just for a Thrill is pretty great. You won’t let me go. If this album was bad I could have a field day there. What is a field day? Be right back. Apparently anything that happens in a field after 1800. So like a big fun dance OR some sort of weird ritual. Whatever you want. This was fine. Bad. Not a good song. Feels lazy. Next please. I guess my review got lazy too. You get what you pay for Mr. Charles. Do NOT let the sun catch you crying (Not clickbait) (Scary). Floated by. Yes Ray, you’re blue. Somebody answer the man, it’s been 65 years. Probably because he forgot to put a question mark. He asks “Was I gay?” Huh? Do we have a LGBTQ2S+ Queen on our hands? I love it. Call him Slay Charles. One more track. Very solid. Excellent vocal outro. As can sometimes happen, the beginning of an album is so exciting and when the surprise wears off, it stays where it is. The big band became more obnoxious as I continued through this thing. I know Ray was blind, and if the enhanced ability of other senses thing is true, those horn blasts must’ve blown his ears to hell. Makes me question the musical voracity of his Wrestlemania appearance. Nah. That thing was airtight. This album was good. Not quite wrestlemania 17, but maybe like Wrestlemania 1. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Let the Good Times Roll, Deed I Do, Just for a Thrill

Repetitive dance/electronic. Pretty fun rhythm and not immediately repulsive. Might get old as album goes on, but first track feels exciting and different. Discordant classical is always a fasttrack to my pretentious heart. VOCALS??? No deal. It’s actually pretty rad. A little too disco-y. “More more more” “type shit” as the youth say while not understanding that deep cut disco reference. Hell, I barely understand it. New song. Thankfully. Hated that rhythm. Fun start to this bad boy. Like the song title. A little more subversive. Less disco, more modern. This is pretty good. Lyrics are fairly lame. Probably don’t understand the cool mid-2000s disco white guy thematic overtones. My loss right? Kind of flip flopping on the lyrics. Good song. Long, but good. MELODRAMA?? Not in my influential album list. The Smiths meets Owl City. Vocal melody kinda bad, but also hypnotic and I was bobbing my head to this. I might just be excited about the prospect of listening to new music, but this album has sort of flown by. Relistenable? Parts. That was kinda nice. Edit. It’s bad. Annoying Billy Joel on psychedelics feature. Ooh no. Kings of Leon. This song is stinky. So lame. Yeah this was a record scratch halting, garbage song. Sad music for people who’ve never been sad. College breakup song. Thumbs down. It removed my thoughts on the next track. Bad until near the end. I can’t bring to mind my effervescent prose and devastating critiques at this juncture. Next song rips. Watch the tapes? I will now. More white stripes/Hives than Coldplay/Fray. Sick. Don’t tease me with a Warren Zevon wolf howl. Werewolves of (trendy New York neighbourhood). What a zinger. That’s the type of “heat” missed when this puppy doesn’t save. Nostalgia takedowns?? Hubba hubba. WHOA, ALBUM NAME MENTIONED. Bass line = NICE. Record pops, weird ambient break which is a plus. Another good song. Picking up near the end. Although it keeps on going. And I’m happy about it. SpongeBob beat introduced to rapturous applause. Oh no. Ballad album closer. Ironic? Almost assuredly yes. Tribute to New York somehow though. Why do people who live in urban areas always feel the need to talk about it constantly? Hold the phone. Big takedown. Why do I like this? What has happened to me? This sounds like Weeser slightly. I hope no music nerds see this. I can only imagine them blowing air out of their one unclogged nostril and whirling their Cheeto dust around the office. Humiliating HIGHLIGHTS: North American Scum, Watch the Tapes, Sound of Silver, New York, I love you but you’re bringing me down 3.5

What a pull. This first song is so good. It holds up. I’m concerned the rest of this may sound fairly dated/horrifyingly bigoted, but this first song is still great. The beat, every verse, the voices, the energy. Fantastic. Jesus. Back to back?? I thought this song was later. From teenage bravado to a takedown of police brutality that is still exists to this day. Angry, frank, the first f-slur. This truly is a special moment. The MC Ren verse is more lame actually. Generic violence bars. When I say generic though. I have to consider that this was 87, 88. Literally nobody was doing this. Man. Three in a row. I came into this knowing three songs and they’re gone. I am heavily concerned. I’m starting to think life really isn’t more than “bitches and money.” God the beat is so good. More slurs! Comes with the territory. Man we loved exclusion. Beat switch is so good. Honestly, Ice Cube and Eazy-E should just take it from here. Is this G-Funk 6 years before Warren G and Nate Dogg flew gently into our rooms and hearts?? A LOT of MC Ren for this one. Oh no. This is repetitive and not in a great way. Were 9 volt batteries really that hype? Yo Ren. This song was also good. Why was it so cool to misspell words. Times have changed. Now you’d be laughed out of your record launch party. CAN ICE CUBE COME BACK???? MC ren has ONE flow. Not considered a prince because I’m a principal. This is word association. Yo uh I spin the globe not an earlobe uhhh. He’s back thank god. So many guitars on this album. The funk guitar samples versus the jazz/R&B is interesting. Easy-E discussing parental discretion for having sex with him. Stick to the over-18s Eazy. If that is your real name. Next “Rap a hole in my dick.” The lyrical crevasse is forming. That famous Kurtis Blow flow with slightly edgy lyrics. This one sucks. Ice Cube required. Beat is salvageable but it says it’s a remix. Damn these special editions. Boring cut and paste song the next time. Starting to feel like Mulhouse asking “when are they going to get to the fireworks factory” with regards to our chilly compatriot, Ice Cube. Forgettable. Express yourself was a point I was dreading. The pop samples can go either way and it’s usually off a cliff. We have certainly veered towards the precipice. Albeit slowly. Boringly. There was so much rage and energy in the first three songs. It has come down to a simmer. And now perhaps to a lull as I hate this song as much as I remember. basic raps over a repetitive pop sample. FUNKY. It’s about time. Compton, along with people (x8) are in the house. The funk disappeared. This sounds like it would play while we waited for the headliner, Ice Cube, to come out. Turns out it’s a diss. Makes sense. This would be devastating to be even remotely compared to this. Oh no. The misogyny break. Why Cube, Why? I wanted you back. And now. Well. You ain’t tha 1. He just wants real love. I Spell girl with a B, while misogynistic, is funnier than anything MC Ren has ever said. Run DMC with gang lyrics. Run- NWA. Dopeman rules. Until it gets into weird sex stuff. Man I’m a broken record here, but I need to listen to more Ice Cube. He is LEAGUES ahead of these bums. Even when he’s corny, he has personality and there’s an urgency and importance to his delivery. This sounds like a poor man’s gangsta gangsta. I’m waiting to hear like old-timey slurs you hear in the sopranos. We’ve pretty much run the gamut with 80’s slurs. Forgettable. Something 2 dance 2 surely is a joke. Cameo making a cameo near the end of this siminal piece of gangsta rap. Man this thing is interesting. Lots of foundational ideas but lacking in energy and originality in pockets. The lyrical themes were new, but the musical ideas weren’t in many cases with a few notable exceptions. HIGHLIGHTS: Straight Outta Compton, Fuck Tha Police, Gangsta Gangsta.

Is this a parody of overly dramatic motorcycle songs? Like wanted dead or alive or turn the page? Really weak start. Overproduced pseudo country riff sounds like it’s dying to be in a Harley Davidson Super Bowl commercial. Lulled me into an angry sleep. More sea shanty like somehow but Jesus it’s the same song structure. Simple riff accompanied by needless melodrama. Preferred the overall tone of this but it went forever. Will there be alt rock?? My note again is I hate the production of this. This might be exciting if it was some underground album and had a hint of irony. I kind of like the lead vocals here. The wail is good, but the mouthful chorus is obnoxious and gets worse as it goes on. This is by far the best song so far, but it again runs out of ideas before it runs out of track. And then here we go. How do you develop fresh thoughts on a song that has blasted in dentist offices across the continent for three decades. Like the last song, there is a touch of elements from the 50’s somehow. Like prom songs in back to the future. I hate the sentiment of this song and again it follows this repetitive song structure that is akin to being hypnotized at a poorly attended casino magic show. PASS I’m starting to lose interest big time. It really insists on announcing its arrival and then gazing at its shoes and barely playing boring rock ideas that have been executed better. I’m not feeling the emotion at all. This instrumental is a good place to ignore the mediocre music bereft of ideas and update on what is a mess so far. I find the hushed, understated nature of this album to be off putting rather than charming. There’s something that makes this sound like Christian rock or something. Song titles aside, Sweetness follows everything on this album. And it’s far too sweet. I’m looking for excuses to leave the desk. I watched trucking TikTok’s. What is with the simple repetition? Every song has the same four chords punctuated by a bad vocal melody. I thought this one might be more upbeat. Medieval guitar stabs are alright in the middle. Some variance and a little bit of a driving rhythm. Better. Oh this sounds like a Bon Jovi B side. Wait, is there energy?? Yes, Undirected energy with obnoxious instrumentals. This album doesn’t do anything right and fills with a melancholy I don’t think it intends to. While these notes are first run, stream of consciousness, the song “Star Me Kitten” compels me to sit and think. This song is obviously out of the ordinary for the album. I had to take a minute. This takes the 50s prom nostalgia to the extreme and beats you into somnambulism via a low crooning over a dream sequence soundtrack. If it’s a parody, it’s unfunny and if it’s serious, it’s an embarrassment to the band and me for having sat and wasted my time. This song is unlistenable. Time for another hit. Wrestling mentioned. BLASSIE MENTIONED. Immediately better. This song is much more charming. There’s a confidence not displayed in the previous songs. Great hook. A strength of this album is the uniqueness of the vocals and it’s far too rarely utilized. After the thrill of the chorus, their verses are a return to tedium, but this song is good to great. Rarely does the interesting music climb the charts, but I guess this is one instance. The album is getting a little better as time goes on. This song has a magnetic quality of some description, but also seems like an ironic Christmas carol. It’s fine, but can’t save this bad boy overall. A low energy end to a low energy album. This is what happens when a band has a bunch of money and no longer feels the pull of struggle. This album is bad. It unlistenable, but bad. HIGHLIGHT: Man on the Moon.

Oh 2004. What a time to be alive/8 years old. Listen. The NHL 2005 soundtrack reference alone is going to win this album points. Energy is good and fairly infectious. The repetition is a little unnecessary. I’ll never understand why people take bad ideas and repeat them endlessly. Although this riff is very fun. This first song is impressing me overall. High energy. Not bad. Oh no. More disco-y. This was my concern when I saw this album pop up. The David Bowie wannabe stuff. It’s fine. I don’t like this chorus. While we’ve heard a thousand bands like this in Chevrolet commercials at this point, it was new at this time. Still, a hyper-annoying chorus. Worrying that it may be a theme. Oh god. The menu comes rushing back. About to attempt to load a corrupted GameCube memory card save file. Nostalgia pushed below the surface, this song rips. The groove is palpable, the energy is ferocious. Despite the implications of the beginning of WWI, this song is simply fun. A step down in energy. Why do all these nerds try to be sexy? Don’t sing about stuff you don’t know. Almost a vaguely metallic riff on this one until the lull sets in. Arctic Monkeys lite here. Not the best but listenable. Stretching the song too far and along with it, my patience. Looking ahead at the lyrics like a child with a low attention span, I’m anticipating a dance song for virgins. Lyrics = annoying. Piano stabs = obnoxious. The bridge seems to rev up and get you excited for a thrilling breakdown, but it just falls back into the doldrums. This is a filler track. Achtung. This is standard rock fare. Not a travesty, but give me something exciting. The riff is good but there’s something missing. There’s an air of trying to be cool that I can’t get past, but it at least drives. Safely. Just below the speed limit. While really only one track has jumped at me, this is a listenable album overall. I can develop critiques for pretty much anything (and have).”This fire is outta control, gotta burn this city” is lame. Write a better lyric. Use a less laboured metaphor than the tired fire and burning with said fire. If nickelback has made liberal use of this metaphor, maybe it’s time to reconsider. (yes in the future but the point stands). No low voice either. Stop that. Thrilling start followed by a bad vocal. This is really the main issue with the album. The vocals are less than sufferable, and I have suffered. I have a rule about listening to music that was written with the express purpose of picking up women; don’t. He’s trying to be sensitive Jim Morrison here and it hurts. The estate may sue. Hell, I may get in on that (class) action. Picking up men now? Different for the time and more interesting. Less “simp-y”. The voice is less insufferable, so that’s good. The energy is higher here and the experience was better. When one has been taken out, eventually, they must come home. Lower key, but a fun guitar riff and vocal inflection. A little more variety in the singing here has made it more interesting. Softer moments help you appreciate the funk guitar sections that ring throughout the album. Good song. Near the end comes the variety, but more low singing which is not great. Also, drop the la la la. Not working for ya. Well I suppose they’ve enjoyed years of financial success whilst I write about their album (poorly) 20 years later, but still, it’s bad. Not a horrible song. Gorillaz Clint Eastwood stabs near the end???? Discordant outro makes me happy. I can appreciate this album for being pioneering, and for being interesting, but it’s just not really for me. It was enjoyable in parts, painful in others, but I suppose that’s the whole idea of this experiment. HIGHLIGHTS: Jacqueline, Take Me Out, Come on Home

I am ungodly excited for this. The first song kicks anything Franz Ferdinand had to say yesterday to fuckin Pluto. Back in the USSR rips. Meat and potatoes rock that is somehow thought provoking and exciting. What at time feels like an interlude is still somehow so invigorating. That lead guitar rules. Glass onion grew on me. Ob-La-Di-Ob-La-Dull. Music that plays at a swinger retreat at an affordable Sandals. Possibly a cruise ship Wednesday dance lineup in an empty ballroom. Raffi for sad adults. Pass. Weird interlude makes me happy. TikTok distortion sounds were, wait, done BEFORE TikTok???? Good stuff. Bungalow bill is kids music with heartbreaking folk verses and a bunch of weird voice changes. God it’s sick. Mild applause outro is the cherry on top. Time for some guitar tears without the pomp of Yngwie Malmsteen or Steve Vai pretending they’re able to convey a single emotion via their rigidity. This is great. The riff is heavy, the guitar is soulful. This album has excellent songwriting Blues mixed with nostalgia mixed with soul. Every song is hitting for the most part. The vocals both lead and backing rule so hard. These guys aren’t overrated. I said it. I’ll have a sasparilla Mack. Oh wait, that was just the open. Violins being introduced now? A little saccharine here but there’s still such dynamism in the vocal lines. Not a highlight here, but the structures keep you waiting for what’s next. I’m so tired. Speak for yourself Beatle, I’m pretty excited still. Another nice blues-y song. Blackbird is a hit and probably plays at millennial weddings, but it is very nice. There are just such excellent songwriting ideas. Quiet and beautiful. Back to early hints of psychedelia. Kids songs with odd macabre elements. Gripping. Especially the pig sounds. Impersonating our young neighbours to the south??? I won’t have it. Yes I will. I lied. Why is this song about a gunslinger raccoon so beautiful. Despite the abhorrent practice of performing human surgery on what I can only assume is abominant anthropomorphic raccoon, this song makes me want to kick down a saloon door and reinjure this raccoon if only to hear another song. Wet circus music is the only way I can describe the next song. Distorted kids album from hell is kind of fitting this album. Mixed in with some of the best songs ever, this puppy is rolling along. Then it’s somehow a bluegrass song? Man I hate all other music now. I’m an insufferable Beatles dad. Do WHAT in the road??? Blues classic. Somehow so good. White guy blues has the potential of dipping into Hard Rock Cafe core, but this feels genuine. Of course it does. It’s their main influence. In a song title that could be a response to the last song, I will is another gentle moment following the raucous outpouring of blues power in the previous track. Although this is a little bit cheesy, the odd instrumentation keeps things gripping. End of disc 1 pretty much. Have to get past the first obnoxious chorus of the day. Ah well. Can’t all be hits. WHOA. It’s a birthday. And a recognizable riff from what feels like a 1000 movie montages. It’s not my birthday nor is it any member of the Beatles (I checked). This was mid. Now lonely and wanting to die?? That’s a sentiment people can get behind. This rules. More excellent blues with heavy guitar and PROMINENT bass. That main riff rules. This album has so many ideas that would be done worse as time went on. Sometimes with pioneering stuff, you hear rudimentary versions of what would become better. Just the opposite here which is impressive. Saying that, this song IS fairly boring, but it predates even more boring stuff that would rip this off. That monkey seems like he’s hiding something. Namely weird screaming and a bizarre interlude. Nothing much to say about this. Apparently Hester shelter invented metal. It did not, considering the song black Dabbath was released ONE year later. But man, Led Zeppelin would like a word. Still. The song rules. It makes me mad that people who have never listened to metal have determined this to be its birth because it’s loud. Anyway, I have blisters on my fingers from writing this poorly concieved schlock about these albums. I need a diary. This album is long long long. I’m sure this could have been like three albums or maybe had a few songs cut as there are some dragging points. This is one. Slow revolution! This song is great in all forms. The peanuts style horn is a choice. This song invented doo-wop (helter skelter callback, relax). This is certainly a less wild honey pie. 20’s nostalgia?? these are Benny Goodman hours. What a strange end to this. Kind of lurching to a finish. Still fascinating, but less musical. Yeah I’m running out of inane things to say. For now. I’m sure I’ll recharge. But this one is sort of limping to the finish. Hoping for a big final two songs. Number 9. We’re taking music to strange new places pal. I’m a pretentious nerd so I like this. Sue me. Man the mushrooms did indeed hit in the last couple tracks. A psychedelic children’s hymn closer. What else? HIGHLIGHTS: Back in the USSR, The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill, While my Guitar Gently Weeps, Rocky Raccoon, Yer Blues, Helter Skelter, Revolution 1, Revolution 9

These kinds of albums can change my life or make me rue the fact that 1999 record store employees in throuples exist. This first two minutes is on the rue side but then it kicks in a little bit. Riff is good and the droning vocals work for me. Pretty cool so far. Did this have to be 6 minutes?? Each minute is another feather in your anti establishment cap. Next comes the feminist anthem. Honestly a great droning rock song. Fun and repetitive in a good way. Roll on Dandy. Minnesoter? I hardly know er. Man. That’s an original joke. Anyway. I love the sound of this thing. Vocals aren’t an extreme focus but they really work as an attitude and aren’t heavily pretentious. Concise, fun, Good. “Orange is the new Beck” is why I wanted this song to sound like Beck. But so far it sounds like Prison Tycoon menu music. Oh no. Here come the pretentious vocals. I like the laid back yet weird tone though. And prison tycoon WAS sick. You did it again you crazy teens. And you’re not Beck. Listen, it’s been five tracks, you don’t love me. You love the IDEA of me. Yeah this one sucked. Weird but not in a cool way. Heroin IS out of style. Get with the wave of the future; hospital grade fentanyl. This song appears on the top played songs on their profile, meaning it’ll probably be bad as the general music listening audience enjoys garbage. This one is not great. The radio hit. High school movie beginning song for sure. Every day should be a holiday. These weirdos are speaking my language. Did avril Lavigne rip this off for that one song? Some of the weird scrunchy synths are a poor choice. This one is more interesting than the last two, but we have strayed from the first 4 tracks. Good morning?? He he, more like BAD morning. Yeah this one not great. What happened to the cool vocals. The deep voice makes me cringe and it simply sounds worse. Without these vocals, this song is kind of nice and trance-y. Noooo don’t do a suicide ballad. What was that?? I hated that. Come on. It wasn’t as pretty as it thought it was. Orange and then Green?? What is this, preschool?? I know like at least 5 colours. You can’t fool me. But yeah this one is another lull. What was shaping up to be an interesting album has devolved into pretension and some nerd in a brimmed beanie crooning the word “sexually” too close to the mic. Get outta here. Drums? People are alive?? This has to ironic. Return to the sound I enjoyed far more. Power pop. Pretty ok. It’s not my favourite but the paddles have been applied to my chest. Kim deal must be pretty cool. I’m glad we brought the instruments back out for one final rip. I was really hoping this would be more clear in making fun of adults who believe in grown up Santa Claus and use it to shape their lives in any way, but it’s just a not great pop-rock song. Kind of like the weird wah stuff going on at times and the title is funny, but meh. PETE international airport is a funny name. Fuck you Charles De Gaulle and JFK. My buddy Pete needs a whole terminal named after him. Although, if I did have a buddy Pete and if he was worthy of being the namesake for my new international airport, I would probably do a better tribute than uninteresting ambient. The Creep Out is NINE minutes long. I wish it was creepier. But it sure is plodding! And boring! Listen, I am still building the rating scale. One or two good songs does not a three make. This puppy was in 2.5 territory and after this parade of mediocrity towards the end it’s a 2. I understand that many bands need context, but I don’t need to know that the session musician who played the digeridoo had an ironic love of doo wop singles. None of it is palpable. There is no clear attitude or statement throughout much of this. HIGHLIGHTS: Boys Better, Minnesoter, Orange.

I hate all David Bowie hits except maybe suffragette city as it’s not glitzy glam pop. I’ll never understand how we as a society take run of the mill pop and turn it into a profound artistic statement because we like the artist’s personality. However, I know he can be weird and I’m hoping this one is. 6 tracks, 38 minutes certainly tells some kind of story. This sounds like Beavis & Butthead transition music so far which is honestly far better than rebel rebel or anything of that nature. Aaaand here come the vocals. Rock opera. Ugh. There are moments where I believe this is cool. There are many others where the piano and disco kicks in. What the hell is this? Ah man. No good. Elton John piano licks without any of the fun. Is it too late to skip this? Wow guys, this disco song is slightly longer than normal AND the singer has a wacky haircut. This is equivalent to great literature. This sucks. Fuck. Riverboat music. Fat rich cottage goer tunes. I don’t think I can fairly listen to this. I just think he’s insufferable. The bad part is that there are cool ideas that I could see myself enjoying. Some of the vocal harmonies at times sound cool. Lots of sounds. There’s just a general poppiness that I can’t stand. Sounded like death grips for a second. Unfortunately it’s still me in the grip of a cruise ship based nightmare. Why is this crooning over a karaoke steely dan instrumental considered “must-hear”? Is this also Christian? Holy hell. Washed up musician having an evangelical breakdown whilst on barbiturates during a reunion show at a local casino “type beat”. Hail Satan and bring on more pedestrian tripe! Right on cue. Oh baby, the bow tie on the wedding singer is loose now. Everybody is a few loonie drinks in. Time for some more riverboat jingles. It would be fun, sort of like a massive artist, to see what I could pass off as quality based off my name alone. They have to have tried it. traaaaaaaansition. I actually don’t hate the saxophone. There’s something!!!! It’s weird and good. Stay?? Why don’t you go?? Hahahah. Man I’m good. This song has actually sent me into hysterics. These vocals can’t be real. NO. There’s no fucking way. You can’t like this. These vocals or satire. This is making fun of mid 70’s crooners right? HE CANT SING. This is one of those moments where I feel like I’m in the interstellar universe screaming at an oblivious public from behind a space/time continuum rift. This is not good and I refuse to hear arguments to the contrary. Valueless and one of the worst songs I’ve heard in many years. Thoroughly unlikeable from start to finish, this album is a mix between run of the mill and completely insufferable. Musical competency at points jumps it from zero, but the horrendous singing and pop cheese takes this thing beyond the gutter, into a vat of talentless disco-tinged slop that is gulped down by the ladle by buffoons because it has David Bowie’s face slapped on it. Worthless as a psychedelic experience, even worse as a musical one. HIGHLIGHTS: The silence following the final track.

Beatles time. Coming off a 4 into what promises to be better than the last album we were exposed to on this list. Ten seconds into the first track, if they recorded gorilla fight audio for the remainder of this bad boy, it would be better than that David Bowie thing. Odd, musical, invigorating. Good start. This song suffers from its success. Overplayed beyond belief but it’s also quite bland. I like the backup gang vocal call and response sections, but overall this one is mediocre and less exciting than some of their other work. This is psychedelic rock. While again, overplayed, I am interested in this and it holds not only my attention but excitement for what comes next. We’re the rocking horse people REALLY eating marshmallow pies??? With that bombshell aside, a slightly annoying chorus is made up for with fantastic verses and fascinating lyrics/sounds. The simplicity does not thrill the way their other albums have. The vocal melody here is nice and the Beatles songwriting is just the top tier but there’s nothing too grippy about the “traditional” parts of the album. This one repeats far too much and ironically, is getting worse as the track continues. This album feels thin somehow. I don’t know if it’s the remaster but there’s some punch missing with the production. This one is fairly listless. Guitar tone is kind of cool and the organ backing is interesting again, but there is nothing to really write home about in this one. Maybe I’d write home to confess my drug habit and my consortium with scouse hippies, but other than that, this song remains a DEEP track. Harps and violins are a little dramatic. This feels like a fantasia soundtrack backing a blow by blow recounting of a breakup. Hey, I’d leave too if my weird friend’s band started describing me putting on a shirt with accompanying Violas. Nah this one is not doing it for me. Worst track so far, by far. Mr. Kite has to actually be pretty happy with this one. I like this one a lot more. Bizarre and obtuse which appeals to me. Polka circus infused with psychedelics. Perfect nightmare combo. Love this. After some run of the mill tracks, this is wonderful. Sitar time. No white guy on DMT is complete without it. I guess when you cover enough American blues songs and make enough money, you become enlightened. Nirvana achieved by the Beatles, whereas I wasn’t ready for said nirvana. This one is too self-indulgent somehow. Not as good. Actually not good at all. This just keeps Going. Make it stop. When I’m 64 is nice. It’s happy and nice. I don’t know how this fits in though. It seems like an anomaly and 1967’s answer to Pixar music. It’s so out of place and simple that while it is a delightful little romp, it’s kind of silly. Alright. I prognosticated kazoos and they have arrived. This is not my kind of thing. It’s fine. That’s the crux of all of this. It’s got some fascinating ideas and then a deluge of stuff that doesn’t work for me. The end was super cool though. Loved that combination of sounds. There are sections of this album that I LOVE. There will be passages here and there that are so fresh and exciting despite being almost 60 years old. Good morning indeed. Bring on the animal sound effects baby. Maybe we will get that extended gorilla fight. A reprise??? Not in my review. Although a reprise of what was arguably the best song isn’t too shabby. Fine. Good song. So many changes within and a bunch of ambient noise to go along with it. The beautiful vocal melody on the refrain is haunting. I like this one. This album is cool. Slightly cringe in the way that it’s very much “white 20 something discovers mushrooms and makes it his personality” but there are so many cool ideas that would be built upon and improved with the white album. 3-3.5 easily. HIGHLIGHTS: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!, A Day in the Life

Drug free Beatles??? I hate the chorus of this song so dearly. Starting off weak, but the verses are alright. Interesting to get so many eras of the Beatles. Let’s see how this progresses Hmm maybe there is some mild drug shenanigans afoot. Sitars??? This song is far nicer and has a lovely sound/melody. I’m noticing it hard to write about the Beatles two days in a row. Meh. This song was fine. It’s interesting to see that the songwriting has progressed far beyond this in the subsequent albums. This song is schmaltzy and mid. Oooh la la las unnecessary and hackneyed even for the time. Nowhere man is a hit that somehow appeals. The listless (in a cool way) vocal line is great, but NO. Not back to the doo woo backup vocals. There is a pedestrian-ness to this album. No abbey road pun intended. The songs chug along and hit the ear as fine. They’re serviceable if not a little boring. Hard listen after more experimental work from the same artist. What can I say??? Man, it’s fine. Nothing on the comical edge. Kinda funky and fun but ultimately forgettable and basic. Nothing particularly groundbreaking. I seem to prefer the slower moments here as they are more interesting but again this kind of falls from an eerie piano sequence into fairly basic song tropes. Lyrics are bunk. He loves you. And I’m here also listening to this for some reason👍🏻. Hopefully the emoji doesn’t crash the site. Bluegrass???? Country??? Man. Influences on the sleeve. Not the best country I’ve heard but the lyrics and tone is better. This song was whiny and infuriating. Big pass. Looking through you is SICK. The bursts of energy with the distorted guitar. The lyrics are interesting, the vocal hook is sweet and not annoying. This is probably the best song so far. In my life eh? Another huge hit that I’ve heard a million times. If “cottagecore” hadn’t already been a term, this song feels like sonf blaring out to inebriated cottagers near the end of a sun baked day. Harpsichord solo DOES go hard. But overall, meh. Wait is pretty nice. I don’t know if they’re getting more interesting or I’m just getting worn down. Seemingly better songwriters as it gets near the end. And back to basics. Not in a great way. I’ll tell ya, if I needed someone, I’d call the beach boys. I kid. This is fine. Murdering little girl anthem to end it off. Although it sounds like he is in some sort of relationship with said little girl. Cringe lyrics aside, the guitar is nice, the vocal line is cool as all hell. This is a nice end for the most part. The “little girl” stuff is a sign of the times and overall painful to hear. Experimentation lacking here in general but that’s to be expected. Still some nice pop/rock songs on here. Decent album and experience. HOGHLIGHTS: Norwegian Wood (This Bird has Flown), Nowhere Man, I’m Looking Through You.

Album title - SICK. I’ve never heard of this at all. I’ve probably heard this song but maybe not. I’m troubled that I haven’t really discovered much music through this, so I’m excited by the prospect of some Norwegian weirdo. The song is a little obnoxious. Kind of in a good way. Although I am NOT an accordion man. Ugh the groove is kind of infectious. Trippy alien jazz outro is a winner. The vocal range is good but the songs are basic so far. This was fine. Not much to say. Hmmm. Lil organ stabs with some white guy blues. I’ll let you in on a secret, it’s early in the morning when I’m listening to this. How crazy is that????? This song is fun. The crazy vocal inflections and whatnot. This guy is weird. I like it. I have watched a movie. Next. Ohhh a moonbeam. No. I cannot see the spectrum of light individually. Come on Harold. This one is a little boring and kind of stagnates. Now THIS is white guy blues. The other blues song was nice. This is Hard Rock Cafe bald, beet red, beer swilling dad blues. He still has a cool voice. Or is it insufferable here? Not a shining moment. Especially with this extended big band outro. Next. Lyrics and composition by Peter Ham. Rhyming tomorrow with sorrow??? This guy is cooking hardcore. Listen. This is his most played song, meaning it’s probably bad. It’s fine. It’s a ballad. It could be prettier. Very run of the mill to me. Oh man. What are we doin here. It was a different time. I guess. Is this the verbal blackface interlude?? Yeah, this is too silly to be good and not silly enough to be intentionally funny. I hate that I don’t mind this one. I’m usually an advocate of bad times and certainly if it were good times, rolling would not be encouraged. Some of the dumb pop tropes are still here and the lyrics are dumb as sand, but hey this one is serviceable. Jump in(to) the fire?? Metallica? Is that you? It is not. But it at least has some drive. I think I like the songs he writes for himself far better. He leans into repetition a lot and the lyrics are nothing to write home about, but lyrics shmyrics right? There are parts that sound like U2 which make me shudder at the tolling of that bell. What hell awaits. Anyway. The bass interlude is the best thing to happen all day. Is this Clair de Lune played by an elementary schooler?? Another ballad. Why does he get so operatic? Weird music is winning the day on this one. His lyrics really aren’t good though are they. Again though, the odd music. This was an interesting album. Held my listening and wasn’t bad at all. Nothing earth shattering here, but some nice moments. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Gotta Get Up, Early in the Morning, Jump into the Fire

Oh sweet Jesus. This looks like the earliest of 2000s and the heaviest sap. I’m worried about this one if I was to judge an album by its cover and press photos. A full hour as well. Yikes. Well I like the first song so this has potential, although the brief shimmer of vocals concerned me. It’s fine and we’ve returned to spacey, understated yet thick with atmosphere musicianship. Hell yeah brother. And here come the vocals. They should’ve stayed away. The first vocalist is repugnant, the second is good. Riverboat piano is always a downgrade to any instrumental section. You know this isn’t half bad as things go. Apparently I misheard this as a tv drama theme song. The samples are so good. I don’t love the main riff, but the trippy vocals and background instrumentation creates a lush atmosphere. This thing is interesting and this song was cool. The chords and sounds are so odd and fantastic on this thing. Even the singing works as it forms part of the atmosphere. What initially sounds like a bad Oasis cover forms what is a hypnotic and dense environment that is appealing and does not lose that appeal. I wouldn’t say these are the best songs I’ve heard or anything, but there’s something cool here. Another similar vibe. I can see this getting slightly repetitive, although the musical variety creates enough diversion from the similar ideas in song structure. Extended solo, back into jangly, reverb guitar. Lost souls is a different type of song. Far more vocal focused to begin. Then it’s buried in a swell of sound. Only to return to the sort of basic section. Into trippy circus music. So many 60’s psych influences here. Not my favourite track, but still gripping. This album is so layered. Wearing the 60e influences in their sleeves here but with a modern instrumentation and production. Foo fighters interlude. Don’t do this to me. Christmas Foo Fighters to boot. What is happening?? “Hey guys, we have an album full of dense instrumentation and introspective alt-rock, but have you heard about this song called Learn to fly??? Let’s do a bar rock cover of that.” I hope someone was fired for this blunder. Pass. NOOOOOOOO. What have you done. Doves. I was with you. I was on board. Why turn the focus from some of the most interesting pop/rock music I’ve heard so far to 2002 wedding music. Fucking Daughtry vocal line. A couple whirring, spaghetti western oddities near the end, but man that vocal line but the overly “epic” musicianship and the dreadful singing make this another trawl through the depths of garbage. Creepy train conductor intro is a VERY welcome change from WWE Soundtracks (as rad as they may be) but as the cool instrumentation returns so do the prominent vocals. Better vocal melody however. This one is ok. Throwaway instrumental interlude for the most part. Overstaying its welcome a little bit. 40 minutes is the best album duration. Sue me. One more. Man who told these guys the vocals were the way to go. They’re ok, but the instruments, the soundscapes are just too good. This could’ve been an instrumental album. A tale of two albums. An album divided. The instrumentation and production of the first half of this was so fantastic that all vocals became an instrument of their own. As the vocals became more prominent further along the track list, they became a distraction and in a few cases completely overshadowed instrumentation. An interesting experiencea and an excellent album let down by periods of mediocrity that became more frequent as the album continued. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Firesuite, Sea Song, Rise

Has writing about these albums become an exercise to ward off the onset of dementia? Probably. Anyway, here’s 90 minutes of your barista’s favourite singer. I expected crooning of the bat. I instead got rock. It’s fine. Kind of Vegas-y which I’m sure is ironic, but it sucks. Don’t say defrock. I am NOT in the mood for this. This song fucking sucks. This one is better. Slightly more interest building with this kind of vibe. Psychobilly feeling. I like it. This song ALSO sucks. Santana backing up Fat Elvis. Why is this the most interesting music ever written to some people? Boring. What can I say about this. It doesn’t really elicit conversation. It’s just simple rock with a glittery, yet somehow painfully dull sheen. Glen Danzig type beat. This really is fat Elvis if he was trying to hit on a Zooey Deschanel character in an early 2000s romantic comedy set in New York. It’s better when the Vegas rock fades away but here’s the deal. I have decided that Nick Cave sucks as a vocalist. That’s going to be an obstacle here. The lyrics aren’t even cool. I thought that’s what I would be the one saving grace. It is not. Let the bells ring has started promisingly. He does less of the throaty warble. And back into big airy Elvis rock. It’s dead. This thing sucks too. There really are interesting alt-rock outfits out there. This isn’t one of them. Skinny rat faced guy = interesting. Ok. Actually weird start. I like the first couple seconds. WHY. No Vegas flourishes, please. Ah you know, the verses are so interesting here, this one gets a pass. I actually like this song. Part 2. Oh god am I starting to enjoy this?? Am I the barista? I like this song so far again. If Nick isn’t singing that much, there are good ideas there. Storytelling quality to the last two songs. Could do without saying “mama” ever, but hey it’s not that bad. It’s getting worse. This really doesn’t need to be 4 minutes let alone 6. Ruined by the end. Thanks Nick. Oh my god something that isn’t annoying and grandiose?? And then he sings. Honestly, run a blender instead. Worked for Lou Reed. Man this puppy morphed into a Margaritaville for fans of Scott pilgrim really quick. Big thumbs down. Nah. Ante (deeeeep sigh). This is disgusting. Ah well. Obviously I’m a shitty writer, so I can’t criticize, but I will anyway. The lyrics are lame and at times highly cringeworthy and the music sounds like what you may hear in the waiting room at a tanning salon. There’s something so unlikeable about this. I almost wish I could hear it rearranged by a different artist. There’s almost something good happening at times. But the singing and the flourishes are too much. The lyrics are also revolting just stop talking about anything you do physically/carnally. I’m going to be ill. Also, every song could cut two refrains off. Easy money. UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I’m about to tap out. Lumineers with a drunk Elvis impersonator at the wheel. Three left. He can’t sing he can’t sing he can’t sing he can’t sing he can’t sing he can’t sing he can’t sing he can’t sing he can’t sing he can’t sing he can’t sing he can’t sing he can’t sing. He thinks he can though, and has therefore made a living. Isn't the free market the best? Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz 6 minutes to go baby. Happiest I’ve been today. It’s started off predictably horrible. DoOoOoOne, RuUuUuN. STOP. I’m obviously a big dweeb who likes discovering music myself and maybe this list wasn’t the best way to go about things. I’ll persevere because it’s important to hear what people think is good. That way I can roll around in my straitjacket and cackle as I wrestle with the realization that I’m an alien. 2 good songs and 15 self-indulgent, empty, unappealing and bombastic (for no reason) journeys through the mind of a man too boring to be fully weird. 1-1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Hiding All Away, Fable of the Brown Ape

I had no idea this one would show its weird guitar spaceship face on this list. Hits galore. Starting off with potentially the biggest. After boring crooners from the mid 2000s, someone who can sing is a nice change. The build to the chorus on this one rules so hard. It’s a song that’s blared in a million construction sites for 50 years, but on its own, it’s still pretty good. If it wasn’t heavily overplayed, man. This thing is sweet. Man. I forgot about this song. A little bubblegum for me but the sounds are so good. Vocals especially And that chorus ain’t half bad. I hate Nick Cave. Sorry, tick I’ve developed going through this list. Hearing a fucking guitar solo and a competent vocalist is revolutionary at this point. Good lord the opening. I am ascending to a higher plane of being, known as Boston. The organ and bass rips. The strummed chorus is SICK. I love this song. Could it be because I ripped it up in Rockband in 2007??? Possibly. That god damn solo. Sweet Jesus. Listen. I like lame incel music. But this thing just rips. Peace of mind with kids music movie lyrics. I don’t want to completely devastate this one, because the guitar tone is so good. A let down after the previous one. Holy hell we’re back boys. Organ✅ Sick Riff ✅ fucking balls ✅. TRANSYLVANIA MIXED WITH SOUL REVIVAL. God dammit this rules. I just grew a moustache. Three songs left to somehow derail this. This one is kind of a lower energy. The organ player is going off again though. Guitar Solos beginning with gong strikes. Why is this album so cool? A middling track punctuated with incredible solos. Oh boy. I’m prepared for the ballads. These song titles indicate some balladry for some mulleted man crying in a Camaro. God the vocal melodies are good. No ballads. I mean this is close, but again, the vocals are great, the instrumentation is lush and full. Stalker lyrics. Hey, it was the 70’s!! Nah this is a typical closer in that it seems to run out of ideas slightly, but after 30 odd minutes of excellent rock, I can forgive the spiritual revival finish. A great vocalist can carry a mediocre band and a mediocre vocalist can hamper a great band. Everybody sounds great here and this thing rules from the first note and settles into a decent finish. Some major highlights in there, but overall this thing is fun, energetic and fantastic. Roll on Massachusetts. 3.5-4 HIGHLIGHTS: More than a Feeling, Peace of Mind, Foreplay/Long Time, Smokin’

Well I had to trudge to YouTube to listen to this so my vaunted track by track reviews will be forgone in favour of a slapdash review of what was an interesting, albeit sloppy, foray into proto-punk. Some of the early songs on here were great. Shut up and I hate you are not only great things to say, but made for excellent, angsty punk. The lead singer’s penchant for sounding like the Black Midi guy (50 years prior) and also being named Gary Burger or some shit, wore thin after awhile. At the start it was exhilarating but it ran out of steam. The anger and energy didn’t last and neither did my interest. For the pioneering nature and the initial buzz, this thing is impressive. What it lacks in polish is part of its charm. HIGHLIGHTS: Shut up, Higgle-Dy Piggle-Dy, I Hate You, Complication

More music I’ve never heard of. Like the cover, hate the glam rock tag. Let’s see how this pans out. I know this is a genre that’s very popular, but I don’t even know the name. Is it early goth rock? Whatever. This song has a cool creepy organ. So that’s cool. The vocals are alright. Punk-y. This is too long and just sort of there. It’s fine. It sounds like novelty halloween music that horrible millennials like. Which is close enough to me to say again that it is indeed, fine. Ooh. Weird intro is good. Driving bass. Good. Ugh. This genre of vocals. Not my thing. I don’t hate this song but the repetition is grating. I find myself annoyed randomly and then realizing the riff has been repeating for minutes. I like the bizarre pulsing mechanical outro. Nicer riff. Let’s see if this repeats for the whole song. Ooh this one is more punk. Less forced deepening of the voice. I like this one. High energy, fun, angry. Hell yeah. DEEEEEEEP is so cringe. Fuck it’s dumb. This song is fine though. All things considered. They’re different. Lyrics are trash, but different is good. The bass tone is so cool on this. Type o negative probably owes a bunch to this. This thing really is hanging around. God it’s hard to talk about. It’s just ok. This track has a fun groove. The lyrics are spellbindingly lame. When you have no ideas for lyrics (or you do and they should’ve stayed confined to the pages of a tattered notebook), why is the music so repetitive. This verges on slam poetry because the music (while good here) is a backdrop. Video game Halloween music. For 1976, this does sound very futuristic. This whole album does. I hate the repetition, but there is a quality about this album that draws me to it. Nothing really to say about ugly. More repetitive proto-goth(??). Organs all over this bad boy. And not in the lyrics!! (pitchfork plz hire me). Yeah it’s fine again. Music is pretty cool. Although there’s just a sense that this thing is just a middling album all the way through. I assume one band member is writing this type of song all the way through. It’s so lame. Come on potentially underage girl, it’s the 70’s. Like why the infantilizing? It sucks. This song is bad. Go buddy go. Taste of psychobilly here. More of a taste of basic instrumentation and lame vocals. This SUCKS. It’s hard to pick out what I like about this album. I think it was an overall decent listen and I was even compelled at point, yet I find myself in the 2 star territory. There was too much cringe and not enough that stuck out as impactful. It’s hard to even muster a highlight list. There really is only one. HIGHLIGHTS: London Lady 2-2.5

This has the potential to be all positivity rap. What’s the over under on “come together as one” being said? I’m taking the over. Early to Mid-2000s rap has a special place in hell regardless, but like anything. We will give this a chance. Jazz tribute to start. Probably an instrumental. I wish we were listening to jazz. Nah this is so lame. Stop. It’s like accidentally discovering your younger teacher is an amateur rapper on the side. This thing blows. We’ve even lost the musicality. Oh it’s returned slightly. And fade. 77 minutes of this, eh? Let’s hope “heat” actually brings something resembling that. I assumed that this album would be heavy lyrically. There would be plenty of time where the lyrics carried everything. The lyrics are fine. Honestly, they’re on the bad side of fine. It’s not that good. He has very little authority in his voice. The flow is middling to bad. This is lukewarm at best, pal. Next. Thi- Thi- This is RAHZEL. SSX TRICKY reference in my own mind is distracting me from the 2004 snap beat. Mixed with Common attempting to sound intimidating, this is another journey through substitute teacher rap. It’s just so cringeworthy to me. “Cold blooded, *ah huh* hardcore” Dad, stop, you’re embarrassing me. Also, I don’t know where rahzel even is. I just want to hear him ask me to do an uber trick one last time. Ok, a better flow. Some level of aggression to the beat. Chorus? Disgusting. Hahahahaha homophobic slur. Sign of the times I guess. Ugh. I hate that this is the best song so far. Oh here we go. This one is about to close the gap between men of all creeds. Oh no it’s a love song. Duuuude. You can’t be like “I won’t call you a bitch” when you did two song ago and also mentioned a “circle of f**ots” like 60 bars ago. Get outta here. The beat is ok here. I think common is so lame and that hasn’t changed here. Holy hell this is so ham-fisted. “Hey girl, sex is cool but you know what, you’re my equal.” Bro. This isn’t a revolutionary thought. Whoa guys. He treats women like humans. Quick. Somebody get this asshat a medal and a girlfriend STAT. You’re not Mos def. This is so 2000s. Stop saying “ah”. It sucks. Funkaaay. Yeah this would fit in real well at like a white millennial woman’s 40th birthday. The rhyme scheme is just meh. I really wanted cool lyrics from this because I thought that’s all we could get. They’re just ok. One or two decent lines on this one. Beat is ok but too much dumb shit surrounding it. I kind of like the r & b break near the end. That’s not bad. Not rap, but that’s probably a good thing. We’re getting an actual Mos Def feature. Mos Def and Mos Def - sugar Free are on the track. Let’s see. When Mos Def isn’t rapping, people should be asking “where’s Mos Def.” I am asking. The chorus actually has some energy so that’s a nice change. Oh boy, talking about being a “sexual intellectual” with a girl who says “I look 20 but I’m 15.” Fuck you. Mos def is better in every way. Even with a dumb verse about saying never and Jerry Seinfeld observations about ID. Reprise. Chance to reflect on how unlikeable this album is. It’s like hold music while you await some horror when the phone is answered. I know writing rap isn’t easy, but these rhymes are always so predictable. Pastor rap. Listen. The lyrics are annoying. Full stop. I wish it was cooler. I’m not trying to hate this, but he’s just not the best writer and his delivery is just so weak. Dude, common included an actress pretending to ask for his autograph. First time for everything. Hold on. Bad lyrics, but this beat is better. MC Lyte is so refreshing here. God. So much more ferocity and intention. This one is good. Cool instruments. Common should just back out like that scene in 8 Mile. Too long and too much common, but hey. Best one so far. And we return to the cold, empty abyss of Common raps. ZZZZZZZZZZZZ. Wake me up if MC Lyte comes back. Homophobic bars woke me up. What a loser. This one is ok. It’s fine. Man this is all so mediocre. Is this a song about crazy grandmothers? Or a PSA about not robbing grandmothers? Jesus. The beat is good. This one is somehow decent. Ugh. I guess I like the joke songs. Noooooo. A really cool intro ruined by more of the same, pandering, oddly sexual, lame poetry. This is one of the worst so far. Oh common, I can sympathize with dealing with “crap rappers.” Maybe he said crab. Ignore the facts for my bad joke. Please . Man. This song is pretty good. The laid back actually works here and I feel like this beat matches common rather than having him strain to be tough and cool. He usually sounds like a mouse trying to scream over a beat, but this one fits him perfectly. Yeah this one is excellent. Fantastic lyrics, great energy. Gets a touch melodramatic at the end but hey, Best performance from common by a god damn planetary span. Common’s dad appears. Why? End on the good song. I want a Time Machine to request this be omitted. This is dumb. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Dooinit, A Film called (PIMP), Payback is a Grandmother, A Song for Assata.

Not again. I regret every day not giving the other REM album a 1. I think about it. If it wasn’t for man on the moon, that puppy was dead. Now. This one is earlier and may have some vitality that wasn’t wrung out by corporate rock radio. Not holding out hope. Well maybe a little. Is that… life??? Is that an alive Michael Stipe not buried in an inky, glimmering shit pile? This song is nice. It’s not great, but it’s something and that really is something compared to the 1992 one. Get up is whatever. It kind of floats by. This is too ballad-y. Gets a little medieval. The theme song to the greatest anti-sitcom ever produced. Simple and decent but it’s forever associated with Get a Life. Which is the best. Man the pseudo country stuff sucks for this. But the vocal melody is excellent in places and the piano is nice. Nah man. Don’t say happy game to play. This sucks. Kingdom Come Deliverance background music with one of the players of the game singing. No man. Stop. This is fucking embarrassing. Uwu I’m just a wittle boy, I have no fwiends. This is the worst. Lowlight alert. I hate that I like the vocal thing at the end, but otherwise this was an immolated garbage barge. Product placement time. I always liked this song when I was younger. It’s fine. This sounds like Bon Jovi and u2 doing a medley track. How does that sound to you? Imagine it. I think it sounds like a benefit concert for Wall Street bankers who had to pay taxes this year. Hard pass. Guys. Come on here. STOP. What was this song????? I wish I could forget California. Although I really like the sombre riff here. This is pre-Nirvana. Very good riff but insufferable whining vocally. Ok. This song sucks. This bad boy is coming into the station. A once proud locomotive has lost all steam, spray painted with tags from disappointed locals from the towns it trudged through. Where I could’ve seen myself giving this album a higher score earlier. It just ensured that I hated it. It tried to get me to hate it. It succeeded. Minimal highlights. Overrated junk. 1-1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Stand, I Remember California

Quiet whiny pop rock, to what will presumably be a lot more up front. Let’s give these hippies a whirl. Good first song. Exciting, foreboding in a weird way. Probably the organ. Anyway, it went too long, but it was cool. This one is more lame. More bar rock and too much warbling. Man that riff is so friendly. It’s funny. Get outta here with this one. Ohhh yeah. This is cool. More growly, blues influenced. Hell yeah. Simple riff. Whoever wrote the last one is out. Maybe. I don’t research these albums for these word vomit reviews. I mean it repeats too much, but the wailing guitar solos and vocal changes keep this one fairly interesting. Good. Another blues song with vocal modulation to sound like a fuckin harmonica?? Gold. The title track??!? In this part of the album, in this part of the review localized entirely within this text box?? Yes. Anyway. It’s fine. Not as good for me. The blues was a better direction for this album. Pray 4 Mo Jo. L’America is translated to “The America.” That one was free. Oh god that intro is cool. Eerie. Hell yeah. Out front angry hippies are so much cooler than secretly angry and hateful peace and love hippies. Oh man. Nooooooo. Why did it change?? Keep the sinister early black sabbath shit. Ok it’s back. Transylvanian keyboard solo. Then it leaves for a literal public domain riff. I still think this thing is so cool. Definite highlight. Well. What are they doing in the Hyacinth house? Whatever it is, it may have something to do with sleeping pills. Is that too soon? Whatever. This is middling to suck. Ehhh are we screeching to a halt here? Or just lurching to a chug? This one is not great either. It just sort of faded in. It’s sloppy , listless, white guy blues. Alright. This is weird, which I like, but the music sucks. The lamest ideas from like 50s torch music end up on the chorus. I like when it is more driving but there’s not enough of it. Too many breaks for relatively uninspiring solos. And the big hit from this one. I think. I don’t know. I’ve heard it before. This is the Doors that I picture. Kind of lame. But then again, popular music is often big time lame. Yeah this thing is meh. I like the whispering backup vocals a little bit, but that’s where it ends. Some real big wins here. Some songs that I will never revisit. That levels out to a solid, serviceable and relatively enjoyable release. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: The Changeling, Been Down so Long, Cars Hiss by my Window, L’America

The debut. No overplayed CSI songs leading off. At least I don’t think. Was “Out in the Street” the opener for CSI: Des Moines? I mean this thing is ok. I like the loose garage rock, drums and echoed jangle guitars, but overall this puppy starts out fine. I accidentally had D.R.I in my queue. That was a change of pace. Not what I expected from the Who. I suppose the UK was obsessed with American soul and blues. This type of smoky bar, rich guy blues is not for me. This is cooler. Lyrics are mid. Man I expected to like this way more. It just sort of drones on. It sounds like a lame indie band from 2003 despite being almost 40 years old at that time. I suppose that’s ahead of its time isn’t it. Nahhh what is this? It’s so bubblegum. We’re going to prove you wrong!! Male cheerleader in an anime type of song. Is that a trope? I’ve seen almost zero anime. Anyway. Maybe I’ll start, so I can turn this song off. How did this get a record deal?? This is at least a little punk in some of the vocals but Jesus Christ. This is so sappy. I guess that’s what sells. And listen, I don’t sit here on first listen and decipher poetry, but these lyrics are bunk. Just predictable and bordering on satirical. And then my generation. This song rules. I don’t care that it’s over played. How does this fit in with the saccharine doo wop songs from the rest of this. I assume we’ll settle right into some more Perry Como/Pat Boone style bangers after this rad bass solo. Yeah we’re back. Hey at least the guys hitting on my girlfriend are my pals. I feel like this is also a big song for them. The madman on drums feels restrained for most of this. Nice fill section just to prove me wrong. This song is ok in places. I think I hate piano in blues. That’s what it is. It reminds me of white blues. This one is ok, but it’s so dated. Even for the time. What is that vocal line. Had to laugh. Yeah this one is meh. The Beatles? Oh no, it’s a hootenanny. Actually this one rules. The Beatles comparison is a good thing. The lyrics still have moments of weird over explanation that is just bizarre, but the tune is fun and the concept is better. The vocals sound rebellious, the guitar is cool. Buddy isn’t a dad murderer NOR is he part Chinese. Come on guys. Leave him alone. Blues cover//interpolation? Mannish boy performed at a junior high talent show. I kid. It’s not that bad. It’s also not that great. It’s middling. It’s a legal matter. I mean it’s a song about getting married. I’m surprised how decent it is. I think it’s more “modern”. Although, I could lose most if not all of the piano from this fuckin thing. Good god. Still, it was buried enough. Good song. Just a bunch of stuff goin on. Cool. Pass the “Ox”. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahaahahhaahahahahhahaaha. This is pretty cool. A bewildering album. I had (as always) lots of expectations on how this thing would sound and this sounded like none of them. A few good songs and a few songs that sound like they were written by teenagers (they were). A side note: “I Can’t Explain” is a single from the same time that is so good. Why isn’t that one on the album?? Anyway. This is middle of the road/slightly annoying album. Here’s my non-traditional .5 rating that gets rounded down. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: My Generation, It’s not True, A Legal Matter, The Ox.

Oh sweet Jesus. What is this going to be? I’ve never even heard of this band. Ah man the intro is rich. I didn’t expect vocals after the intro. Thought it might be instrumental. Old style torch singing. I do love the music. That modulated guitar/keyboard/keypad is pretty sick. The whistling and harpsichord is great. The vocals are ok, but the music shines here. Cool start. We’re sticking with this harpsichord hey? Fuck yeah. I mean the vocals are also continuing. Again, the layers of instrumentation are so cool, but I’m not sure how exciting the vocals are and how bad this will wear out its welcome over 40 minutes. So far, so good, but I can see tiring of the sultry whisper murmurs. Nah. First misstep to start. Is this a bond song? It’s catchy. The glitchy tech stabs accompanying salsa music tell me we’re not in the 60s anymore. Oh and anything remotely salsa-y is a sure fire skip. Of course I don’t skip anything here, but it was a skip in spirit. And we’re back to the low singing. It’s like a futuristic cabaret bar where you request personalized songs from an AI generated torch singer. The music is less interesting here. That really was a nothing song. Felt soulless. GET OUT OF MY EAR. Thank you. They backed up slightly. THEYRE BACK AHHHHHHHHHH. PLEASE GOLDFRAPP, NOOOOO. Why have we veered away from the music to focus on singing exclusively???? This sucked. Alright. Now we’re getting into silly yodelling. Like I get it. You think you sound good. Please be accompanied by good music. This one is a slight return to form. High pitched, whining instrumentation is cool but disappears/fades into boredom far too quickly. Papers please theme music. Not complaining. Also a vanishing of vocals for the beginning stages was a beautiful oasis. Buddy my “Oompa radar” is off the charts. Can’t sneak one of those fuckers past me. Anyway. This has devolved into more vocal exercises from our favourite AI cabaret singer. Nope. This sucks. I wondered aloud (in this very text box) whether or not this would get tired. It has. I have. This thing is dragging and has become a self-indulgent mess. The novelty wore off after two tracks. I’m reading about the band because I’m bored. It’s the singers name??? No way. She obviously believes she’s the second coming of Billie holiday. Another boring track. I was thinking “this next song sounds cool!” and it turned out that Spotify autoplayed a different artist. Yeah, I found this didn’t go anywhere. It’s dripping with this sense that the creators believe it’s the greatest thing ever. What started out as interesting sort of stayed with the same ideas for the entire duration of the album that got old and were never expanded on. 1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Lovely Head

Love AND hate?? Jeez I like hate music but I don’t know about love. Let’s see what ol Lenny gives us here. Ah I feel like if this album is good, songwriting will be the reason as the vocals are what I can only assume are an acquired taste. This is cool. Feels tense and on edge and the lyrics are interesting and dark. Good stuff. More of a poetry experience with accompanying guitar which works for me. That man is SO last year. If you have read any of my reviews you will know that I am, in fact, an idiot, so as I grapple with the complexity of certain pro wrestling storylines, I am really scratching my head at what the crayon and harp mean with regard to last years man. Then Joan of Arc shows up. I didn’t like the feel of the poetry as much here and the music was far more boring. Less impressive. Wait, is last years man a writer of former renown with writers block??? Damn Lenny is dead. I’ll tweet his estate. Is this back to the hate portion? Sombre Canadian Bob Dylan. Not a bad combination of things to be. I like the poetic portions with the aggressive acoustic. Whoa. This one is up. I like it. The aggressive vocals in 1971 is pretty ahead of its time. I still have no idea what the point is that he’s driving at (if there is one), but the lines are great. Thought provoking at the very least and probably filled with rich meaning that I’m just not grasping on first listen. Alright. Back to calm. This one is pretty boring. I’ve found it fading into the background. And then the vocal melody/rhyme scheme is actually really annoying pAIN, agAIN, nAME, mAIN. lAME. Ah man this one is nice. Beautiful. The singing works, the lyrics are interesting and sad, the songwriting is excellent. Big highlight. This is the kind of song I would’ve never found without the list. Is that greatest genre of songs the ones that make references/great appeals to “the boys”? Whether the boys are back in town or providing the beat that frees one’s soul, it’s usually a winner. So they’re singing another song now. I mean this one is fine. Buddy loves Joan of Arc eh? We all love 14 year old war generals who claim to be vehicles of god. I am so averse to la la las. They are almost never good. Especially when it’s not a chorus. He’s so loud in the mix and let’s be honest, he’s not a technical vocalist. That works most of the time but Jesus not with loud la la las. Not a huge fan of this one as the verses are great, but the chorus is painful. This album was gentle yet rough. A poetic trip through melancholic expression accompanied by music varying from run of the mill to fascinating. This scratched some pseudo-intellectual itch for me and felt like an enriching experience. Not every song was a hit (I mean that would be a 5) and some songs were even a little obnoxious, but the highlights are strong enough to create an album that grabbed and held my interest throughout. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Avalanche, Diamonds in the Mine, Famous Blue Raincoat

Like many rap albums, will this be sex noises interrupted by brief periods of music? Early signs point to yes. Yeah we start with an intro. This is nothing. Ooh it was actually an intro to the intro. Ugh this one is actually sick. Lady of Rage rules. Pretty fun, nothing overly offensive or annoying as of yet. Well except for this weird outro to the intro. Now one of the biggest rap songs of all time. Didn’t know the opening all these years was a urination sound effect. I could’ve gone without that. I mean I’ve heard this song like 50 million times, so it’s hard to imagine it fresh. I like to think one of the dogs was on the theramin. Snoop loves: Alcohol, Juice, thinking about his money. Snoop does NOT love: hoes. Simpler times. More weird intros followed by a beat that can only be described as funky as hell. It’s actually nice and foreboding before returning to simple funk. It’s really not saying anything like at all. It’s all flow. Which is kind of fun, but yeah, lyrically this would’ve been cool to me just for the shock factor at the age of MAYBE 12. That’s pushing it. Another horrible intro. Man they’re just so cringeworthy. Again, a cool beat rapped over weirdly. I didn’t expect to think so little of his lyrics but here we are. They’re terrible. The flow is still great. It’s actually very much a throwback to Slick Rick. Wait. It is a slick Rick cover. What is this album? Let’s get more intros. At least it didn’t mention testicles. At least I don’t think. I might be immune to mentions at this point. This one is creepier and tougher but it’s still very simple. This album is so convoluted and complex, but when a song emerges it’s very paint by numbers. Ah the lauded “posse track.” This is cool. This is kind of rap I like. Aggressive, violent. It feels urgent and like there is actually some emotion other than horny. Snoop is a laid back rapper but I always found that sounded cool on this kind of song. The gruff “SUICIDE ISSA SUICIDE” refrain can go away, but hey. Back to the funky, happy stuff. Dr. Dre is, uh, back? Was he here already? Not much to say here, it’s fun. A little pedestrian. Appeals to chronic fans. You know, the album. Then it starts to go off the rails with vocal runs. Kurupt (autocorrected to Kurt) doesn’t care! Writing lyrics, Recording in an expensive studio, producing/mastering/mixing and putting a song about how you “don’t give a shit” on your debut album is only funny for non-idiots. This song is kinda forgettable. Rugged like BF Goodrich. Supposedly. Waste of Lady of Rage👎🏻 Pass. Oh good, we’re back for the jack off hour. Good to see Warren G pop in for this lyrically garbage song! That’s right ladies, your only value is sex. He’s never met a girl that he loves??? Queer icon. I love that for him. Listen. These lyrics just suck. It’s weird that this is what nerds online pine for as they condemn progression. Buy a doll dipshit. Big time lame. Lowlight. The beat again is good, but the lyrics are boring/annoying. The beat is even annoying me now. Is this going to be 2?? Am I too critical? Do I like music? Who knows. This track is devoid of ideas. Ok. Well. This beat is good. The guitar/bass and even the weird nursery bells. I like it so far. You know what, the intro was even kind of fun. Snoop sounds energetic. There are no weird friends around embellishing and glorifying exploiting women. Mr. Malik provides some of the aggression that is missing from snoop himself. This song was a good closer. Party rap is shite. This album excels in this zone. When I listen to music, I have to sometimes compartmentalize the time and contexts from which things were released. I mean I can even listen to bad people and separate the art from the artist. Some of the lyrics here were too much for me. At those points this was not a pleasant listen. However, the beat selections and flows were simple but good overall and I found myself enjoying it much of the time. The interludes and intros were over the top and often unnecessary, and despite its many flaws I think “Doggystyle” just squeaks into the 3 territory due to its bursts of aggression, interesting features and overall catchiness. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: G-Funk Intro, Serial Killa, Gz and Hustlas, Pump Pump

The abridged moving day review: 1. Shit. Pop pap. 2. Funky as HELL. So sick. This is one of the better songs I’ve heard in a long time. 3. Total garbage. Why is it so long. I get it. It was sweet for a half a refrain. 4. More soulful. Better. Toe tapping. 5. Catterwalling. I kind of like the insane off key synth, but as a theme for a comedy show or ambient work or something. 6. The hit. It’s still great. I’d much rather hear him on upbeat songs. 7. This was nothing 8. Another ballad. This blows 9. Holy shit the song changed??? This is bad. Out of ideas. This is a lacklustre jam song with a tired band. 10. And to close off an album chock full of terrible ballads is, indeed, a terrible ballad. Cool outro. An album with one fantastic song that otherwise bored/irritated me. He’s almost too clean as a vocalist. It’s off putting. Cool production but overall, a snoozer.

Abridged Moving Day Review 2 1. Love the folk-y sound. Very cool. Catchy and driving 2. Ooh this is even better. Such a nice vocal tone. Weird. A little mysterious. Reminds me of Lankum. 3. Hell yeah. It’s continuing in this direction. Fantastic. This one RIPS. Good lord. 4. The difference between singing like this and something like Goldfrapp is difficult to explain but it’s vast. Both have vocals front and centre, but this doesn’t seem to insist upon itself. While this isn’t the best song here, the vocals are wonderful. 5. Conscription ballads?? This is why I’m here. Let David Bowie pretend to be interesting elsewhere. Let nick Cave audition to have Joaquin Phoenix play him in a biopic some other time. This shjt is where it’s at. 6. Medley. This is cool again. Not fantastic but good. 7. Less exciting. Not much to speak of 8. This was fun. Cool stuff. 9. It’s slowing down. Praise has been less effusive but it’s still just so nice. 10. Take two pal. This album was pretty, trippy, dark, and excellent. Very enjoyable listen. They kept auto playing and I wasn’t even desperate to pivot to noise grind. HIGHLIGHTS (big apologies to Stevie wonder for forgetting this crucial segment of these lauded reviews): Reynardine, Matty Groves, The Deserter, Crazy Man Michael 3.5-4

Time for father rock. I’m actually jacked up because this first song is one of the coolest rock songs to come out of that time. Lyrically, musically, vocally. “Goes hard” as the kids say. Friends??? Cool minor guitars. I don’t know man. How do you describe good music. I prefer describing garbage. I mean it’s going too long. It’s a good song that probably require drugs to enjoy minutes 2 through 4. Although the outro into the manic intro of the next track is cool. NICE. Some wicked blues riffing and excellent vocals as per. Good song again. It’s hard to wax poetic when I’d rather tear a strip off of something. Man this is best played blaring out of an old drunk guys expensive speakers in his 900,000 dollar house. I think. I have only imagined that scenario. Although I have heard drunk dads with whiskey enjoy the hell out of this song. Hey. I like it at work too. It gets a little wanky, but listen, if I was at a concert AND drunk. This would be a 5-bagger. As of now, it’s not. This one has a nice melody accompanied by muddy and driving guitars/drums. I like this one. Goes pretty hard. Meh. This one is pretty boring for being about the gallows. Filler track. Got to hit that 40 minutes. I guess. I know nothing about music, writing or the intersection where the two shall meet. Everybody run, Jimmy Page found bluegrass instruments. These next two songs get a combo review because they held into each other for me. Better. Still in weird Americana territory somehow, but this is cool at least. Have to remember this is almost 60 years old. Jesus. 9: this Better. Still in weird Americana territory somehow, but this is cool at least. Have to remember this is almost 60 years old. Jesus. This is OK. Honestly, not the greatest either, but remains enjoyable and at least a little hard rocking. Even though they copied Greta Van Fleet, these Lead fellows sure can play. This album is a strange one. I expected it to hit far harder. It still hit and the great songs are truly great but there was something missing that I may look for on their earlier efforts. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Immigrant Song, Out on the Tiles,

Here’s one for all you prog nerds. Throw on a musty ”Magic: The Gathering” shirt and let’s dive into some heady, bass driven prog rock. The musicianship right off the bat in this NINE MINUTE SONG is great. The bass rules. The singing is boring and it sounds a little friendly if that’s an appropriate term. Five minute mark goes crazy. Almost metallic in its riffing. Blaring organ. This rips. The singing parts are less exciting, but that time flew by somehow. Alright. The clap. Three minutes? What a rip. I’ll barely have a time to pull a rip from my wizard bong. Nice. Pretty sweet jam song. Not sure if actually love or if I was swindled by the incredible sound effects available to 1970’s prog rock musicians. Good song. More singing. He can sing, but I just feel like the music has such an attitude that the singer can’t match. Meh this one is too low key for me. Weird sullen riff around the six minute mark that’s cool. It’s not a bad song, but it certainly has fewer exciting moments. I was waiting for the lord of the rings pan flute moment. Elven brethren unite. Or whatever. This one was MID. Oh they got me good. They completely changed speed. It’s still whatever but whoa. I’ve been Yessed™️. This is all very interesting but it’s still somehow not knocking me over. It’s still well in the “good” territory, but I still find the singing a little one-note at times. Perpetual change, eh? This thing does change and move around a lot. The instrumentation is so full of movement all the time. Oh my god the vocals have improved! He sounds alive and like he’s actually putting some force into it. Little jazz guitar break. This thing is an enigma. It spans genres and I enjoyed listening to it but, again, there were too many lulls for me. So many cool ideas that would influence countless other bands, but as far as my initial review is concerned it’s not quite enough to jump up into regular rotation. I might have to revisit. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Yours is No Disgrace, The Clap, Perpetual Change

I don’t think I can do this. It’s just a pop album right? I know as a man, this probably isn’t targeted towards me, but I mean it’s starting with a song that would have a 10am slot on a light rock radio station. Money changes everything. I wish it changed the chorus. I’ve never heard this next song. Girls? Having fun? Nah I’ve heard this song actually. In every gas station, roller rink, shopping mall, grocery store, dentist office, tv show, bus depot, and terrorism hostage video since I was born. It’s not for me. I actually don’t hate this one. It’s got that sort of melancholy 80’s tone that appeals to me at times. It’s kind of nice to start. Although the lyrics are dumb and again the repetition is just so gratuitous. It wears out its welcome. Pass. Every tv/movie prom scene ever. Man this album had the hits. Again, what can I say? I hate this song. I really don’t understand the appeal. It’s pop. Is this supposed to be a “great work” like the Beatles stuff we’ve heard or even fun like Boston? These are driving to work radio ballads that are kept on low volume. OH GOD MAKE IT SHE-STOP. This is BRUTAL. That chorus is poison. What is happening. Is she drunk? Off kilter schmaltz with garbage lyrics. Nah. Reggae guitars. The worst genre of music ever to exist seeping into an already bad pop album. This is a mess for me. This one sounded kind of interesting for a second. Kind of driving and cool, but it just devolves into her vocals and other garbage. The weird techno driving is a little cheesy and dated but better than literally anything on this album. Guys. This is kids music. Is this comedy? I’m embarrassed to be listening to this. It’s all too dumb. The lyrics are childish and rote. This album is not good. I get that people have fond memories or really like dim, catchy pop music. Hey I like dumb stuff, but please don’t attempt to make it high art. It’s dumb. End of story. This was unlistenable and made me feel embarrassment, misery and eventually anger that my Spotify algorithm has been ruined by allowing mainstream nonsense to be played. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: None

I come into this thinking U2 is one of the worst bands ever. I’ve seen videos where they looked cool in like 1975 or whatever but this? I hate the album cover, the name of the album, and even the band name. I will give it a shot, but considering there are so many “hits” on this album, may god (Protestant or catholic, I’m not sure which side of the fence we fall on here) have mercy on our souls. The very first vocal strain conjures images of Bruce Springsteen doing a Brian Adams cover. This blows. Melodramatic drivel, ripe with self-importance. I mean he CAN sing, he just CHOOSES to be insufferable. His vocal inflections and emphases are just so painful. Also, if you’re going to name yourself “the edge,” why is the guitar so “meh.” Only thing I’m on the edge of is a restful slumber due to this listless, overplayed dumpster fire of a song. I almost turned it up, but then I realized what was happening. They really thought they were doing something with this. Self-importance has been said already. These all sound like arena rock songs that don’t have amps plugged in. Bad. Oh sweet Jesus, there may be some balls to this song. I’m awaiting the plunge into mediocrity and pretentiousness. There it is. Bad “gritty” vocals. This is the best song so far, but now Bono is moaning sexually. I swear to god. WHY? This is so cringe. I just checked Wikipedia. This album was a commercial success. I get that. The public are known for being idiots. However, a critical success?? I landed on this planet in a spaceship. This song evades descriptors other than synonyms for “bad.” It is truly awful and it is so clear that Bono thinks he is the greatest musician to ever interact with a microphone. I can’t believe this was a song. One of the worst I’ve ever heard, and I played guitar for a few years as an angry teen. I just don’t get it. This is not good. What part of this pseudo-intellectual, egotist rockstar trash is revolutionary? I mean he’s a noted philanthropist, which means he loves to show off his charity work, and he also loves to show off his boring lyrics and overrated singing. This album has no ideas other than testing the patience of enjoyers of passionate music. This just keeps going hey? Please shut up. Can I reach into the past and prevent this from happening somehow? I’d go to Dublin and make sure these losers never met. Every instrument is so bland and Bono is like an insufferable dork trying to woo every girl at a party with pretend emotional depth. If there was a god, they wouldn’t allow this song to exist. This sounds like proto modern pop country mixed with all the other stupid shit that this album has subjected me to thus far. Replete with dumbass “yeehaws” and whatever. Another snoozer. I’ve referenced sleep a lot in this review. That’s probably not fair. This is like when you’re half awake and overthinking in a dark silent room. It’s angering and anxiety inducing while simultaneously being the most boring, banal event of the day. Too long. Stop. Stop singing. You’ve made your hundreds of millions off of the morons who like you. Why am I part of this? Why would you call a song “exit” and not exit? At least Bono is not prominent here. We just have pseudo-guitarist edgelord pretending he’s doing stuff while strumming the same three notes. Another poor excuse for a song. Go in with a whimper and exit with a whimper. Wow guys, you’re such titans of human welfare. Thank you for this whispering nonsense. U2 has cemented their place as the second worst (hello Pearl Jam) band to ever break into the mainstream. If this is their defining project, I never need to hear another song from these idiots unless it’s the background of a sweet Triple H recovery video. Thank you for playing your terrible music for the benefit of all us plebeians writhing beneath your esteemed post as the kings of dentist office soft rock. The absolute worst. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Visualizing the Edge’s baldness and the public hanging of Bono.

You get one chance to name a band. First failure. The recommended stuff looks good but there is already a mountain to climb after experiencing U2 yesterday. Yeah. Very much shoegaze. This song is too saccharine. NO REGGAE. This fucking blows. Why is the vocalist so bad? This could’ve been cool. Good music is really hard to make. The vocalist doesn’t fit and I prefer this kind of music to be sad or at least weird and introspective. The vocalist is genuinely really bad. I feel like I need to like this. Ok, I do like this part. No vocals, driving instrumentation, insane saxophones. Back to garbage. Stop singing please. The Rodney King song goes HARD. I don’t even hate the vocals with this stupid beat. It’s fun. Ooh we’re back to shite. I can hear the singer’s saliva man. This is bad. The music. I can’t keep up the song by song review for this one. From here on out, I will just give a summary of what has been a boring, overdramatic mess thus far. Small update: this thing is ROUGH. More reggae guitars at one point ( the worst genre ever conceived) and just overall nothing memorable. Nothing sweet. Nothing interesting. Nothing dark. Just nothing. A trudge to the finish line. The final song has cool ideas and constitutes a highlight as it finally grabbed me. Not enough to make up for this thing, but a final enjoyable moment. Although TWO MINUTES of repeating the refrain. Way to ruin the only good idea this thing has produced. I wanted to like this, I really did. There was just nothing to grab onto. It’s not good. There were glimmers of brilliance but they were so elusive and often immediately faded into something dumb or a sequence of abhorrent vocalizations. Not in a cool way either. There are far better 90’s alt albums. It feels like most of them would be. 1-1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Rodney King - Song for Lenny Bruce (part of it anyway), The White Noise Revisited (first half)

So popular. So so popular. A true test of my aversion to popular things. God forbid I like this. noooooooooooo. I like this. Driving rock rhythm and a voice that fits the music well. Pretty fantastic 90’s alt-rock song. I feel like this one was in a commercial. This one isn’t as good. It feels pretty silly and not in a fun way. It’s fine, but not necessarily something I’d want to revisit. Anyway. Here’s wonderwall. Trying to listen to this like I’ve never heard it. The chorus still sucks, but ugh I actually like this song. Do I unironically enjoy wonderwall?? Yes. Don’t tell anybody. Although it’s not perfect, it’s better than I thought. This song was my SHIT in rockband. Man this is a beautiful song. Really nice melody and one of the better songs I’ve heard doing this project. Of course I already knew it, but mostly as a 12 year old smashing the shit out of plastic drums. Hey now. This one is forgettable. Sort of floating by. Listless britpop. Interlude. Sounds like George Thorogood or however you spell that shit. One time this thing doesn’t autocorrect ridiculously. Anyway. Whatever. Some might say is good. Cool heavy guitars. Nice vocal melody. Sweet song. This one isn’t doing it. Reminds me of feeling depression for the first time and not understanding what it was. Like 2000 type shit. I guess it was ahead of its time. In both depression prognostication and getting the perfect feel for 2001 lite rock. She’s electric??? Don’t rhyme sister with missed her. Although, again the songwriting is nice. This is a decent album. Nice melodies. A little repetitive. Spacey, cool, a little aggressive. Pretty good. More swamp music. Actual live footage of swamp waters. Into the big concert closer. Although, this song is so nice too. I forgot how well the melodies are crafted. There are depressing elements but isn’t that what we’re looking for sometimes??? Yes. Colour me shocked that this wasn’t a pretentious, overly poppy, whining mess. It’s a nice britpop experience with many memorable songs and fantastic songwriting. Obliged to say that wonderwall was decent and Oasis overall has impressed me. Which is what all musical acts strive to do. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Hello, Don’t Look Back in Anger, Some Might Say, Champagne Supernova

No idea where this one will go, so a hop right into er. So far, I am emitting Honk shoo honk shoo’s with a cap and a candle holder next to my curtained bed. This is so syrupy. Midgets mentioned. I mean the lyrics seem good, which I imagine is a big part of why this album is. WHOA. Breakdown. HELL YEAH. Whole song worth it for that. What’d you call me??? Uhhhh. Well. That sounds like a reasonable request, Sly. You can count on me. I have to be pretty wasted to enjoy this kind of jam band stuff. It’s not coming together for me. I mean I am enjoying the modulated talking guitar but overall kind of fades away. Again, just a jam song. Can be heard in any high school nowadays. Here is an actual song. It’s fine. Way too repetitive and overly happy. Oh my god. Is funk finally happening? First time since the end of track 1. The dual vocals, the soul, the HUHs. This is sick. Not as commercially friendly as the rest of the “songs” Oh boy. Happy sunshine friends holding hands and circling this big ol marble as one united friendship squadron. Snooze. The song itself is ok, but the forced unity stuff is a bore. While it would be great, this messaging always comes off as preachy and dismissive. A 14 minute song called “sex machine.” Ugh. Yup. It’s a jam song. Extended Modulated guitar/vocal solos ALWAYS set the mood. The instruments are good and while this isn’t necessarily a song, this jam is better than some of the other ones. It actually keeps getting better. Raw, stripped back guitar solos beat the messy horn based ensemble tracks for me. Man this thing turned into a classic. Mesmerizing, soulful, musically brilliant. THAT is a good jam. Aaaaand back to the radio. I don’t think I’m a big horn fan. The bass is good, the funk is present. Simmering. Not at a boil. Vocals are good. I am always initially skeptical of things that are popular/reviewed well (this website is a great place for me to be hey?) but this thing came through when it mattered. A little preachy but that was overtaken by funky instrumentation, excellent vocals and a lot of passion. Not a classic for me, but a damn fine listen. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Sing a Simple Song, Sex Machine

The last David Bowie album we endured on this list was, at the time, the worst album suggested within the 1001. It has since been matched by the likes of hipster Elvis impersonator Nick Cave’s bloated 2004 project, and Irish posers U2, who released an absolute zero in 1987. Suffice to say, I am not looking forward to this. No disco to start. That’s good. It’s not good per se, but I’m happy it’s not disco. It’s a lame guitar riff with some fairly interesting alien weirdness happening in the background. But! If he’s not singing, I’m a happy fellow. BLUES GUITAR?? It’s fine. I was genuinely thinking this was an instrumental album and was so excited. His voice hit like nails on a chalkboard. Lame vocals, but instrumentally, this album has been decent so far. Oh god no. This sucks. Again, instrumentation is unique and I feel like it’s not an everyday album in that regard. David Bowie is not a talented vocalist. He’s very important culturally, but musically overrated due to that importance. It’s the celebrity president phenomenon. Sound and vision eh? So far I am envisioning hell, as the sounds filling my ears seem to be hold music for a surfing resort and the only way I’d be hearing those sounds is if I was suspended in some sort of purgatorial state. It’s almost like he’s recording and doesn’t want to wake his mom up. Oh no there is the unfounded confidence. Ok, the vocals ARE interesting and weird here, there’s just an element of poor taste somehow. This time I think the actual music let us down. This song is a big nothing. Boring. Desolate without any accompanying atmosphere. Cringeworthy vocals and lyrics. Break for caterwauling. Garbage. Obligatory riverboat revival song. This genuinely sounds like Tim & Eric. Which would be great, if it was. Considering it’s not, I can only take it as a genuine attempt to be a good song, which it was not. What the hell is going on. David Bowie ambient track? Giving this one a chance. This one did NOT need vocals. A nice experience other than the ham-fisted lion king vocals. It sounds like Sid Meier’s civilization menu music at this point. Another pass. Meh. What the fuck is this? Don’t moan at me. You produce interesting atmospheres and sounds and then you wail over top of it, completely decimating any subtlety or intrigue. Medieval garbage. Hearing less singing HAS been nice. Although it makes it harder when he does pop in for a wail, just to remind everybody he’s still the premier artist of our time. To be fair to this album, it was musically interesting and as abhorrent as I believe David Bowie’s singing and lyrics to be (not sure if he wrote his own to be fair), there was more intrigue here. However, I just can’t jump into the 2 territory as there is not enough to actually enjoy for me. Even the atmospheric ambient portions seemed to be dripping with pretentiousness. David Bowie is a cultural icon and a musical mystery. This is another lacklustre project from a vastly overrated musician. 1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Ambient portions in the final few tracks.

Didn’t expect this one. I don’t know if my 2024 brain teeming with internet overstimulation can handle lines like “picking forget-me-nots” but I will attempt to quell the encroaching brain rot and go back to a simpler time. Where men were men and women were scared. First song is a classic. It rips. Simple as. Nice love song albeit slightly weird. We should’ve left this rhyming scheme in Monterey. This little horn run in the drug song is fuckin rad, but everything else is super forgettable and middling. These are starting to bleed into each other. Is this a new song?? This album has great bass licks and cool instrumental runs all over it but man the lyrics are so dull. Brother can sing (obviously) but man possibly due to this being almost 70, sounds. A little trite. Razzle dazzle? Devil moon? Is this a three six mafia record? Man that’d be slightly better. This song is more of the same. This might not have been meant as an album experience. I prefer the version of this song in seminal 2003 Christmas romp, Elf. That’s the extent of my intellectual musical discourse. Referencing millennial children’s films. But this is a great song. Lyrically more interesting. I’m telling ya. The jazzy instrumentals are the best part of this. And also saying the Rockies and Gibraltar are going down. Classic. The hits have been delivering except in this case. This one is getting under my skin, in much the same way a parasite or even a not overused metaphor might. I almost want to just hear the bassist and flute gent just go ham on something. They rule. More sappy lyrics that make a decent song, but nothing crazy. Tears for fears mentioned. *DID FRANK SINATRA PREDICT GEARS KF WAR 6 (not clickbait) (gamers)* I don’t even know if that’s a reference. This is so close to a Christmas song. I forget which one, but the refrain has the exact same beginning. Something about mistletoe. This one is passable. I hate this term. Don’t say whoopee to me. Was this the equivalent of “WAP” in 1957? Were there tiny weird podcasters radio hosts talking about how we’ve become immoral. “He talks about men sewing, our nation has become soft.” Almost as if history keeps repeating itself. This one is pretty cool. Again though not too much is standing out as an individual track. This is a playlist quietly playing at somebody’s 80th birthday. Dude is lying to get a date. What a baller. Frankie doesn’t read books. Come on. Frankie pulled through. Old crooner music is a guilty pleasure of mine and while close to an hour of it was a little overkill, This is a musically competent, sweet set of songs held back slightly by precise table lyrics but propelled forward by excellent vocals and a cool big band backing. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: You Make Me Feel So Young, Pennies from Heaven

The album cover is every adult male post 2020. I actually also have libertine tattooed on me. Stick and poke only. Where’s my vape? This starts like fats domino mixed with the Smiths. Why is there this old school rock element? Interesting. I didn’t hate this. Yeesh, A few sour notes in here. It sort of has a nice melody but goes off the rails into a big nothing. What is this singing man? Holy hell. It’s not even cool ironic. Meh maybe a little. I thought this would be worse than it is. No boo Radleys so far. Ugh this one is where the energy kind of dies off. It’s shouty, but still somehow dead. Even chimp noises can’t save this. This is all fine. I’ll probably purge this from my mind the second it’s over but that’s not due to it being bad. It’s just ok. This one floated by. The Ha Ha Wall. This one is cool. Erratic weirdness in the midst of a nice, punchy melody. Happy, bizarre, interesting. Oh buddy. A little bit of a punk riff. Hell yeah. Fast, aggressive, fun. Let’s go. So clearly influenced by the Smiths and the Clash. This one veers too near to reggae for my ears, but again, not as bad as some of the shit (U2 I’m looking in your direction) we’ve been subjected to. Doo Wop. Influences on their sleeves. Nah this one wasn’t for me. Dragged. Back to the energy. This album is surprising me big time Cool Cool x2 Will we ever know what truly became of likely lads???? Oh maybe this acoustic person will tell us. While I primarily embarked on this journey to discover more pretentious hipster music, I have been mostly disappointed by the indie offerings thus far. This is the closest I’ve come to finding a new favourite as this album delivered far beyond expectations. Not perfect and still a little insufferable at points, but by god, The Libertines are decent and I’m not afraid to say it in a review that’ll never be read. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Don’t be Shy, The Ha Ha Wall, Arbeit Macht Frei

Fat of the land is an underused phrase. I was born in the wrong century. I was meant to be a 1600’s peasant. Dying of old age at 27 type of shit. This first song is menu music to a snowboarding video game. The weird chanting is actually cool. Man. Will I like this??? I mean it’s background music for video games or maybe what’s playing in some 1999 hacker club in a movie. This is just the soundtrack for the Matrix isn’t it? I didn’t want to tip my hand but that’s what this was leading to. It’s kind of good. It’s pretty ferocious. Love the shouted vocals, the energy. It’s old as all hell, but this stuff has sort of come back anyway. Sounds fresh. This rap is a little mid. Yeah. Attack a whack pack a stack a black a Knickknack. Lame. Get outta here. Never has “funky shit” seemed so high stakes. I’m fucking shaking. Meh. I was hoping we’d stay with the more aggressive vibe of Breathe. This song is annoying. Weird end is cool, but that’s it. This is getting a little same-y. What was thrilling early, is becoming a little trite. Although this could easily be the opening to like an ECW show. Which would be cool. I wish I was watching ECW. If I can’t be a 1600s peasant, I need to at least be a fat guy knee deep in wrestling tapes. I’m 99% of the way there on that one. This song SUCKS. Cooler. More interesting beat changes and soundscapes. Singing. This thing started out so aggressive and driving and has fallen off a cliff. This is an 8 minute EDM song. Oh boy. What is this? Maybe it’s meant to be background music. It begs to be ignored. Oh now this is cooler. The whole appeal early on was the life and the energy. That has all but faded up until this point. Now, this isn’t great, but it’s a vast improvement. And it’s also bad. Yeah there’s too much repetition for me. I know that’s the idea for clubs or whatever, but I’m not in a club. This is supposed to be an album experience and it’s beginning to fail me. Please do something. I’m observing the details in the crab on the cover at this point. The horn ending on Climbatize is so good. That’s what I’m talking about. Different stuff. If it bores rave dorks, then I’ll probably like it. More punk-y vocals with a backing that has elicited a half hearted “meh” from me. Nice weird organ. This is what the half star should have been invented for. It’s just right in the middle of a two and three. What started as a andrenaline pumping experience that initially blew me away turned into a repetitive dumpster filled with off brand paintball and BMX game soundtracks. Not that I hate those things. The fat of the land was a little too much fat and not enough land. Whatever the hell that means. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Breathe

OH HELL YEAH. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. One I know I like. Take it away Miles. It’s so good man. That bass just carrying everything. Soaring saxophone, piano. Virtuosic on all fronts. And it is just so interesting in top of it all. Cool lick after cool lick. How the hell was this happening at the same time as like swing music? Freddie Freeloader baby. Hell yeah. Another “banger.” More of the same but that same is innovative and exciting. Quieter moments. This might be one for my insufferable New York Apartment man playlist. One for people staring out of their Queens apartment wondering why the city leaves so little for those who build it. One for the real melancholia aficionados. This one was there. It’s still good but not flying off the page like it did at the start. Flamenco sketches. God that’s even a cool title. Big reminder that U2 sucks and David Bowie is hot on their heels because this is what we could be listening to. Slow and melancholic again. Not typically my favourite type of jazz but this is still ponderous and overall enthralling. The dark tone this one has is really infectious. The bass punctuating every saxophone lick. So good. An excellent jazz record featuring some of the biggest names in the genre. A spellbinding listen and one that begs attention to every detail while also flying by. I can’t say that it’s perfect as I’m realizing that may be unattainable, but it’s damn close. 4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: So What, Freddie Freeloader, Flamenco Sketches

All aboard the controversy express. Led by this moron. Yes, he’s an idiot, but I’ve heard this is one of his best. I’ve never really listened to Kanye beyond the radio slop, so we’ll see. Jesus. 76 minutes??? Ugh. I worried that this will be clean sounding “bling era” jay-z tinged rap. So far, we’re sounding like a jovial “love the way you lie.” It’s a little infectious. The rap is nothing special, but the beat is weird. Lots of interludes of course. All Falls down is my least favourite kind of rap. Overly dramatic, female chorus. It ends up being fine as it feels like it has something to say. You can see how he stands out. This is not run of the mill, it’s just far too polished for me thus far. This one is no good. Even the feature is underwhelming. The flows are annoying here and the beat is far too simpering. Interminable and boring. There we go. Some grit. This is a hit, but it’s the best one so far. It feels tongue in cheek preachy, but there is an element of cringe to most religious stuff of any denomination. There is the prodigal son. The lamest rapper of the 2000s. Jayson Zee. Needless melancholy. The lyrics SUCK but the last rapper at least has som vitriol in his voice. This is all too sappy. Am I wrong in saying this feels built for the radio? It’s all so clean. Oh boy a Common feature!!!! It’s a clean-off! In all seriousness, this one is cooler. Talib Kweli is a nice feature. Was common even here? Anyway, this one still has that Kanye flow which I’ve realized is always the same. Come on. This sucks. I’ve got a new (er) workout plan. 3 x 10 turning the volume down, 3 x 12 eye rolls at horrendous lyrics, then finish with skipping songs until failure. Give that a rip. Whoa! It gets worse!! I’m not a “sexy r & b” guy. Listen, I’m a white guy not born in the 60s. Oh buddy. It’s 2004 and I’m playing NFL Street 2 again. This is good. Lyrics in first verse are fun. The Mos Def Kweli reference is funny. This song is so very 2000’s but not in such a glitzy way. It kind of stayed where it was, but this one was ok. Good sample on this one. Boring rap verses again. I’d almost listen to this one as an instrumental. It’s funny, that the degree stuff is still pretty relevant. It’s an adolescent criticism in many ways, but it’s also right. Two Words. Much better. Yeah this one is one of the passionate songs. Less screwing around. I don’t know man. I keep saying the same thing, but the pop sensibilities kill me. Luckily this one has less of that. Boring. This hasn’t felt as long as it’s been, however we have two songs to go. Oh god it’s like inspiration rap. I can’t deal with some of the sounds. The shimmering transitions. The lyrics are boring to me. I’m sorry. Fuck the 12 minute song. Get outta here. Ugh. This was not great. Listen, people love(d) this guy. He’s popular. I get it. He’s definitely unique on and off record but the flows are samey, the lyrics are funny at times and others sound like this review. Sloppy stream of consciousness that really doesn’t pack the punch I expected. The samples range from incredible to grating, and the rap is just there. This is mediocre. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Jesus Walks, Get Em High, Two Words

When I see this pop up, the phrase “Kill me” comes to mind. HOW IS THIS ONE THE MOST IMPORTANT 1001 ALBUMS EVER WRITTEN. Ugh. Anyway. I’m coming into this one with a touch of bias. First song starts off with the nothing guitars pioneered by this nothing band. This was worrying me. I thought “is this kind of good” for a total of 15 seconds. It’s over. The vocals are horrible, the needless drama is wretched. It sounds like a manipulative millennial predator spearheading a theatre production. It’s endless to boot. One of the top 5 most insufferable songs ever to reach the mainstream. It hits my ears like poison. I’m not even surrounded by drunk screaming white people. I’m just a white people listening to this by myself. So not only am I in pain, I’m embarrassed. Fuck the Killers. Let me check Wikipedia. Fuck Brandon flowers, fuck Dave Keuning, Fuck Jeff Saltzman, Fuck Island Records. Hell, Fuck Las Vegas for producing these people. This is a repetitive, overly simple piece of garbage that somehow sounds like a car commercial AND a joke song written by a character in a mockumentary. Genuinely awful and while I hope this is the last time I’ll ever hear it, I’m sure it’ll be shoved down my throat everywhere I go for at least the next quarter century. Boring. Lame. Sappy, yet no real emotion is even being insinuated. What is the emotion? Indifference? The colour grey? You guys suck. Congratulations on bilking the public with your lab created tripe. Another BANGER here guys. WOOOOOOO. The chord progressions, the synthesizers, the melodies, the drums. All awful. And the vocals. Jesus fucking Christ. Terrible. What is this song even trying to say? Yes, let’s get black parade piano notes in this. Let’s try to sound like the Beatles if they were parodied in a motion picture that didn’t acquire the rights to their songs. I’m sorry. I really have sympathy for people. I just know this song was played at weddings throughout the 2000s/2010s. “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.” That lyric irked me when I was 10. It doesn’t make sense on the face of it and insinuating “souls” were in any way involved with the creation or distribution of this record is fraudulent. Can’t even play guitar. And then it’s buried in the mire of lame synth. What is this song? Holy hell. Poor Andy. Being addressed by this dweeb. Come on. You’re joking at the point. This is AWFUL. I’m uncomfortable. I’ve developed hives. There are rumours that they’re a Christian band. Maybe I’m possessed because this is now causing me physical harm. That whiny guitar lick. Burn in hell. You’re the worst and you can’t change my mind. Believe me Natalie. I’m at a loss. I’m going to get my closest three friends in a Room with a Casio keyboard and a sheet of bob Marley Christmas music, add some horns. 30 million listeners a month. Mr. brightside feat Sublime. Trails off into more synth bullshit. Two more songs. I genuinely haven’t had allergies this bad in months. Did he just do vocal scatting for a minute??? They bury the vocals behind effects. I wish they’d bury the vocalist. I mean not really, but I do wish with all my heart that he would stop making music. And also invent a device that erased his entire catalog from current availability and also memory. Sick guitar solo Though may I sit microscopic, adrift in an ocean of stars, though I may crane my neck heavenward in search of answers, my cries for merciful truth unheeded. Darkness descends upon me in the form of tomes written by a heathen that besiege my wellbeing and cause my ponderance to descend into pleading. I beg for the end and all the gods can reply is “It’s indie rock and roll for me.” We are nearing the merciful end. After a four minute autotuned showtune about the genre they ruined, will I ever be the same? I feel like I have been prematurely aged. This is truly one of the worst things I’ve ever heard. A swath of nothing that still grates on me to the point of exhaustion and boiling fury. If you like this, shame on you. Examine your life. Music for people who hate it. I hate the killers with a passion they couldn’t manufacture in a lab. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Being right about this band. Also an album where every track is awful, but also gets worse as the album continues is pretty special.

Huh?? What’s this. First song. Kind of sick honestly. Fun track. Not much to say. Love the frantic sampling to start track 2. It kind of stayed that way didn’t it. Kind of faded into the background. Fun sample here. Hell yeah. Medieval era wailing over the funk riff. This one rules. Less good. This one sounds a little too happy and the guitar sample is kind of bugging me. Funky redux. Cool sampling with the scary religious man. Another decent one. Less great. The repetition is getting to be a lot. The very hungry jezebel. New book for pious youngsters. Uhhh this one is another weird soundscape. Just fine. Dragging by a little now. The sounds are cool, but there’s not enough for me to latch onto here. I know when I start discussing the album, the songs are just sort of there. Here we go. YES. Creepy, crawling, haunting. Beautiful. This is a fantastic song. Another banger to end the album. They really went the creepy route near the end Apparently I have to go to YouTube to hear qa’ran due to protests from the Islamic council. First off, fuck you. Your attachment to a man-manufactured deity should in no way impact the real world. If you want to like that shit, go nuts, but keep it out of real life. It’s caused nothing but human anguish for centuries. That goes for Jesus nuts and everybody else who believes in a magic man in the sky. Wait out this life patiently and silently while you wait for your reward or whatever. Emphasis on silent. Irregardless, this song is absolutely fantastic. Brooding groove with chilling sampling. This album is an odd one. It got a little hyper repetitive in the middle but it’s bookended by brilliance. So many cool ideas and while not perfect, a truly unique experience. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Regiment, Come with Us, Qa’Ran

World of hurt expected. Album cover mixed with some reviews I accidentally saw tells me this is going to be a rough ride. Billy Joe Armstrong in front of the American flag that’s, huh? UPSIDE DOWN????? Whoa. This guy is off his rocker!1!!1!!Guys, this is going to be extreme. Look the fuck out. This is a worse version of counting crows. , sappy pop vocals, TERRIBLE lyrics, annoying cadence, bongos??? This thing BLOWS. Even the saxophone can’t save you. I’m crying. That harmonica hit me as so disingenuous. This is campfire music at a youth church camp. One of the worst lyricists we’ve had to listen to. The harmonica player even sucks. No soul, nothing. Wow we’re off to a flyer here. Oooh now a banjo. Is this that singer that does “bubbly.” Fuck. It’s pop country. Get out of here. You suck. The vocal melody is better and there is a catchy pop chorus (which has been partly ripped off from Steve miller band) but the instruments and his inflections make this completely unlistenable. It’s so unlikeable. Yes, describe the parts of an outfit Bryan er Ryan. This is songwriting camp stuff. It’s so basic. Oh yay, a reference to a “little girl.” Shocker. This is endless. Each song beginning feels like the onset of another heave during vomiting. I am catatonic. Nothing about this is blues. I suppose I am feeling depressed. We’re halfway there. Oh god the gospel inclusion. No. Imagine being this dimwit’s backing band? Fuck. There’s a group in need of rescue. Dude shut up. This is responsible for every moron who headlines the stampede every year. What? Speak up. I somehow haven’t run out of mean things to say. I more than likely never will when given ammunition like this. This feels like a first dance song for a doomed marriage. Doomed marriage feels like this guys overall aesthetic. Listen. I love reading, writing, all that. I don’t claim to be a genius. Look at this writing. It’s rife with errors and bloated prose, but, these lyrics aren’t saying anything, are they? I’m trying focus on anything but this hackneyed bob dylan impersonation mixed with an attempt to sound like the pixies (see: FAILED). I chose the lyrics and they too are approximations of good things half-remembered garbled in a self-importance blender. STOP REPEATING THIS LINE. Another bad guitar solo. Imagine saying “you’re not John Mayer” and meaning it as an insult. Here we are. Oh boy. Here we go. He’s about to propose an open relationship to the barista he’s attempting to leave. Get ready guys. This guy can’t leave well enough alone. There are elements of something that a talented songwriter could assemble into a useable song, but this guy builds Ryan Adam’s’ monster out of mangled pieces of bad ideas. And we get Sylvia Plath rhymed with “Give me a Bath.” 👍🏻 Oh sweet Jesus. The drummer lurched alive like he was being defibrillated. Furrow your brows gentleman. Ryan is getting gruff. This has been the only slightly listenable song thus far. And we’re back. Money can’t buy me love called, and it’s begging for death, everyone is really scared. Somebody call Ringo to talk it down. Yes Ryan, take that stolen melody and add the words “little girl” and a couple references to amphetamines. Perfect. Does someone have a capo and possibly a maraca? Excellent. Let’s call it track 11. Another whisper ballad. His voice is breaking. Hahahahahah oh man. That little instrumental swell. I want to heckle him. I just can’t stand the music on this album. It’s so basic. Good singer/songwriter music I so great but it’s hard to pinpoint exactly why the good stuff is good. This is simple to a fault and just so pop friendly. The country twang is also insufferable with everything else going on. Another clanger. Some more John Mayer lite. This album is making me like John Mayer by proxy. Stockholm Syndrome. Don’t do driving guitars. Ryan wants a ford commercial. Maybe the My name is Earl theme? Well he didn’t get either (to my knowledge, I honestly don’t care.) this is not horrid I guess. Grading on a curve. It’s cheesy and I would never listen to it again unless it’s accompanying the smooth ride of a 2024 ford escape, the most fuel efficient model in the premium series. Ford, Ryan Adams approved. This last song sucked. Fitting end to a pile of lukewarm refuse. This is the music that used to come automatically downloaded on windows Media player. Songs that feel like reproductions of hits filtered through a record executive’s septic tank. We really need to start examining what constitutes a “must listen” album because this ain’t it pal. Painful experience. 0-0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Enemy Fire (I Guess).

Excited for this one. I know one song and we start with it. Weirdos with cool hats is always a good start. This song is remembered from movie montages. It’s fine, it has an interesting sound and nice vocals. I won’t be writing letters home about the Byrds just yet, but it’s fine. Beautiful song. Great melodies, well put together. This is great songwriting. This song is ok. Not terrible or anything but the meat of the song takes a backseat to the strange noises. The weird alien ending was actually pretty cool until the voices. This was pretty good. This one is boring. The songwriting is worse to me than the previous songs. Not horrid. This thing keeps moving. The songs are so short. Pretty good song. Nothing much springing to mind positive or negative. Cool, laid back song. The instruments are virtuosic and after the guitar centre plucking from Ryan Adams (no typo) yesterday, it’s very welcome. This almost has a torch singer vibe. Like some smoky 20s club. 1920’s for you young fellas. Another nice song with incredible effects that produce the psychedelia that we were promised. Folk influence big time. I’m such a sucker for Celtic folk influenced rock. Loved the fairport convention stuff, and this is reminiscent of that. This one is kind of insane. Reverse looped instrumentals. Of course I like it. It’s weird as hell and yet still highly competent. Man. This thing rips. The lyrics are fantastically interesting. Reading them like a book. If this melody was employed in the modern age, it would be driven into the ground and not nuanced as it is here. They weave in and out of the hook so tastefully. Probably one of the best ones here. The album remains nice. This one was fine. I’m still trying to pinpoint why certain songs appeal so greatly while others are mediocre to poor. Maybe I’ll do some musical theory course and ruin music for myself forever. OR, I’ll continue to produce low quality reviews on an internet database. This album was weird, slightly haunting, exciting and had a bunch of great tracks that employed excellent songwiritng and atmosphere. This album could’ve produced more emotional weight to bump up the score, but I really can’t ask for much more than what was produced here. Top tier listen. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Have you Seen Her Face, Everybody’s Been Burned, Thoughts and Words, Mind Gardens, My Back Pages

I’m not sure I’m comlrrrabke with so many “yeahs.” Let’s tone it down here. Let it be known. The Spotify description of the band begins with this phrase: “It could only be called alchemy, the transformative magic that happens during the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ most tuned-in moments in the studio.” Yup. “Posted by the yeah yeah yeahs.” We may be in for a pretentious ride. This one is an enigma. The sounds hit my ears as both supremely poppy and also subversive somehow. Lots of repetition and while not one I’ll be returning to, not horrible. More indie rock of the era. Got some screams in there. This one had a pretty driving thread all the way through it. Surprisingly really quite good. Has an infectious energy. This has cool instrumentation, but something about the songwriting makes this feel like sassy girlboss country music from the 2000s. Carrie underwood with the most furrowed brow you’ve ever seen. Pass. Ooh this one make want to listen to the Hives. This thing is moving. I’ve heard “Maps” before and did not expect this pace and attitude from the rest. Yeah the tense vocal passages near the end along with the plinking guitar. This one was good. Ripped. We seem to love that country cadence. Maybe they’re southern. Repetition of the same lame chorus. The energy remains and is certainly admirable but this one was less fun. God the guitar/bass tone here is pretty much black sabbath. Not a bad thing. The vocals don’t do it for me so much here, but god damn I still love the energy. Riff is good on Cold Light. Especially with the vocalist’s penchant for unhinged punk delivery. Nothing too distinctive here but another decent one. Huh? No no no?? I thought. I mean. Ugh. Im so confused. I want to go home. The one sort of had moments of brilliance. Maps is not for me. I even hated playing it on rockband in 2007. This isn’t a 17 year old opinion. Reaffirmed by the lame singing and nothing happening instrumental. I like when a little bit of fuzz enters the picture, but otherwise, this song stinks. Makes sense it’s the most popular. I kind of miss the energy. Although this one has nice songwriting. It’s growing on me. Not bad. Oh brother what did I do to deserve this one. A stinker in a line of relatively stink free tracks. Poor song. What did they do to you? Yeah a really bewildering ending to a strange album. A surprise for me. See?? I can hate the idea If an album and not hate it HIGHLIGHTS: Date with the Night, Tick HIGHLIGHTS:

Oh jeez. A heavy hitter in the nerd world. The first review on RYM that pops up not only rates its 5 stars, but criticizes people who don’t like this band due to personal taste. NOT ALLOWED. That’s wild. I BETTER like this or a parade of gothic weirdos will *gulp* call me names on the internet *teeth chattering*. Anyway, take it away weird right wing goth boy. Love the audible bass. Yeah this one is pretty haunting, yet it still drives. This one gets the hell yeah approval from me. Did not expect it to work so well off the bat. The vocals are odd but they really accompany the instrumentation well. The swell underneath the keys and guitar make for a highly 80’s experience. A experience I don’t typically enjoy. Oh yeah. This one was already marked as “liked” by me. 1. It mentions Shankly. I’ll just assume that’s the legendary Liverpool manager and move on. 2. The lyrics are cool overall. Love the line “I’ve got the 21st century breathing down my neck.” Words are fun. Lots of quotables on this track. 3. The riffs and arrangements are excellent. 4. The weird breathy way, he says Shankly sometimes cracks me up. This is a winner. Ooh a ballad. Man. This is really nice. A few of the worries I had about this album were the vocals and the possibility for self-indulgence. I find that this comes off very genuine and the vocals really work. Stretches slightly too long for me, but not to the point of anguish. The incel anthem, brother. But is there ever something about this album. Haunting is the word. This one almost has a blues undertone covered with shimmering guitars and bright. Great Halloween album with the alien sound effects. I ended up absolutely loving this song. Hmm. Nah. This one is not it. A definite lowlight for me. A bubbly one in the midst of an album shrouded in melancholia. Me and Julio down by the cemetery gates. Not terrible, mind you, but not up to the same standard as previous. Morissey is channeling his best Kermit here. Is that the fucking TikTok voice in the background? Our brains have dissolved. Confident it’s smooth as a koala’s in there now. If I hear a noise I only have 30 second clips that I’ve seen against my will in feverish dopamine trances to reference. Despite my thoughts shifting to the downfall of humanity via our own hubris, I realize that this song was good. I don’t really like this one. The boy with a thorn in his side eh? Sounds like he has a thorn in uh his uh. Wait. Sounds like a boy who SUCKS at music. We got there with a big delivery. I want to thank all my fans. To the the two people who “liked” my reviews that one time, I think of you often. Couldn’t do it without the support of those nameless 1001albumsgenerator.com users. Oh, this song sucked. What are we doing?? I was loving this album. It’s just sort of faded. Did someone else start writing the songs? Eh. It wasn’t terrible. Almost western instrumentation. Not my lyrical theme. Jesus it took a pretty suicidal turn. Well. Lots of lyrical depth. I kind of thought it was taking a lame going out and dancing theme. This one isn’t bad. Cool return of different instrumentation. Return to form. Well said pal. Some girls ARE bigger than others. Happens with boys too. Hey, all genders and ages. People be different. Bizarre album closer. What can I say about this one that won’t flag a barrage of hatred from the pseudo-intellectual music reviewing set? Bah nobody reads these. This album is good to great. The music is warm and full, yet somehow desolate and chilling at the same time. A few songs were just there but there were a few that were standouts even amongst the other albums I’ve heard so far in this list. “The Queen is Dead” is an album I will return to, primarily in order to think about being British and sad but also to enjoy. Not a five, so may the lord protect me from the gnashing teeth of internet critique from “high IQ” RYM users with anime profile pictures. Let us pray. 3.5-4 HIGHLIGHTS: The Queen is Dead, Frankly Mr. Shankly, Never Had No One Ever, Bigmouth Strikes Again

Sick. Cool nerd punk. Fun high energy riff to start. Hell yeah. This is the right amount of yeahs. Insane vocals, great riffs. Weird satisfaction interpolation? Works here. Jesus this is cool. It almost feels like an interlude, but between the lyrics and the super cool instrumental, this feels like a pointed parody. Thumbs up. More fun. It’s teeming with energy. Can’t believe this came out in 1978. Rolling along. This one has more melody and almost a sombre tone for the start. Which is odd. Then it’s a god damn iron maiden riff with spaceship noises. Nice. Oh boy. The lyrics are suspect from an “allowed today” perspective, but this one is great. He wore a hat, he had a job. I mean can you get any better than that? This one is a mantra. Highly repetitive. Still cool. The riff switch up is great but yeah. Almost a little annoying near the end. Primus called, they said thanks for the career. Yeah this one is fantastic. So punk. Completely unhinged, yet hanging on to musicality by a straitjacket thread. Just the right amount of paranoia. I have to say. This one feels like nothing. The instrumental is boring. The vocals screeching back makes for an improvement but this one didn’t need to be here overall. Not terrible but not as exciting. Don’t do this to me Devo. You were so cool. This one isn’t for me at all. Not good. The riff that just repeats ad nauseum wasn’t good the first time. This sounds like napoleon dynamite background music that isn’t interrupted by jokes. Fading fast. The first half of this thing was all-go. Not much to say on this. It’s like psychotic kids music. Which I don’t mind, to be honest. Ahhhhh this is one of the hardest ones to rate so far. Parts of this verged towards 5. Parts of it were a 2. I think on repeat listens the impact would lessen but the highlights are very strong. Off the wall insane and a whole bunch of fun. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Uncontrollable Urge, (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction, Mongoloid, Too Much Paranoias

Yes, let’s start my bob dylan experience with an album released 30 years after his seminal works. Perfect. Ugh. Well. Let’s give it a whirl. Vocals too high in the mix brother. This sounds like an iPhone recording. Like a 2007 iPhone voice memo. The music has a cool vibe, but this elderly man whispering into a substandard mic is not my thing. Not a great start to my bob dylan career. Also, side note. The tag of world’s greatest lyricist always made me cringe, and if you get that tag, I get to criticize sixth grade depth like “sometimes the silence is like thunder.” Let’s try to get through the next HOUR AND TEN MINUTES. This one was fine. Forgettable for the most part, but overall fairly fun. I guess? No. For real? This just feels so stale. It has a palpable feel of depression. It reminds me of summer and being incredibly bored and physically uncomfortable. The lyrics are nothing, the music is nothing. A complete bomb. Definitely needed to be 8 minutes too. Blues camp. A 60 year old man is having a crisis and signs up for a blues songwriting course. This is his final project. He sounds ancient but isn’t bob dylan still alive? Take me a million miles from this song. I burst out laughing at the initial vocal line. What is happening? This song is another failure. The music is just so dull and the singing. Hoo boy. Disastrous. Meh. This song is the best of a bad bunch. Have to say it. It’s not too bad. The blues feels a little more heartfelt. The guitar has some cool effects on it. “Not Dark Yet” is musically atrocious. The vocals stink as per usual and the vocal lines are awful. However, the lyrics on this one are good. I would rather hear this as a poem. More fake blues. I am completely baffled. How can anyone defend this? No means no Bob. This is PAINFUL. Genuinely one of the worst songs I’ve ever been forced to sit through, and I was a teenager in the early 2010’s. I hate this. Oh we’re back to smooth bob dylan. Oh yeah baby. Has anybody tracked Corey Feldman’s whereabouts in 1997? Did he release this album? Stop growling, your dentures will fall out. Also please blow your nose. I’m begging you. I CAN’T WAIT until this is over. I’m begging for some folk music at this point. I hoped the highlands may deliver but here we are, hearing my ancestral homeland being crooned about by an aged, fake blues musician. Literally mentions Aberdeen. Good lord. I feel insulted. IT IS 15 MINUTES. This needs a new paragraph. I write angrily about music. Like most people, music is one of the primary ways I consume art. It has emotional sway and a big place in my life. Not unique to me, but still very important. This fucking song is paint by numbers blues that asks for nothing from the listener. It has ZERO emotion and even less reason to exist. It is barren in every sense of the word. Stretching out like a canvas that has been lightly smeared with the muck of self-importance. This is a rich, washed up songwriter who has an enclave of sycophants telling him that he has value to the modern music landscape (he doesn’t) flexing his influence in order to shit on the music listening public. This song is a vanity project and actively detracts from the musical canon. What is this list? I feel like I’ve heard 1000 albums better than this already in my days on this bewildering planet. This is GarageBand music accompanied by world class terrible singing of mediocre lyrics. I know this isn’t prime Bob Dylan, but this was absolutely terrible from front to back. Geriatric blues parody that insults fans of singer songwriter music. See review of Highlands for a summary. Alternate titles: Bob Dylan jumps the shark in real time, GrandPappy’s blues camp project 1997, Overblown hack ruins blues for everybody. Hoping Bob Dylan has something to offer in the 60’s, because I’m sure this isn’t the last time we’ll see this man. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Great Question.

Basically Back-to-back Byrds. Alliterative nonsense aside, last one was a 4, let me check out the FIFTH dimension. Apparently this bad boy is 28 minutes. God damn Reign in Blood type album. Decent track. A little sappy in places. Moving on. Another nice yet not great one. I find this album has been more agreeable and a little less interesting to start. Same thing really. The melody is nice but something is missing somehow. I see you is pretty bad. Man this is like Beatles extra-lite. It’s flying by but there is really nothing happening here. The vocals are nice but the melody doesn’t stick and it asks nothing of the listener. This one almost has a nice folk lilt, but something is off. It’s annoying in a way. Like I have nothing to say about this whole album. It’s just there. Eight miles high??? I think I’d need to be to make this something groundbreaking and sticky. The riff is ok here. That’s really it. This just makes me want to listen to Hendrix. Captain soul was a run of the mill guitar solo for me. Unnecessary harmonica but that’s like saying silent silence or loud thunder. John Riley is folk without soul. Everything just feels kind of empty on this album. It’s not clicking. Still, this one held me the most I suppose. Jet taking off. Doesn’t compare to the weird alien interludes form before. Oh my god this one was insufferable. Ugh. After really loving the Byrds’ “Younger than Yesterday,” this one seemed like an exciting prospect. It was anything but. This was middling to poor as the Byrds never really got off the ground. Didn’t even seem like they wanted to. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: John Riley

I’ve heard OF this band. No idea what they sound like. A GIRL???? If I could somehow convey a spit take via writing (and not using the lame roleplay stars *nods* *shoots self*) I would. It’s been nothing but moody boys for about two weeks now. This song is very 80’s and very high energy. I like that, I like the title, but what I can’t really get behind is the rest of it. Kinda mid. This is a cool intro, although please go nowhere closer to reggae type music. I beg of you. Ok they heeded my cries. Eh. Where were they going? Into somewhere? Maybe repeat it 64 more times, Siouxsie. This sucked. Arabian Knights??? With a K?? I don’t know if it was Banshee or big Sioux herself, but this is the type of writing I come for when I listen to the 1001 most influential albums of all time. Seriously, coolest one so far for the first minute and a half. Devolves from there for a few seconds but we go back. Good song. Whoa HALLOWEEN was yesterday. This is truly the greatest mashup of things ever. Let’s think about Halloween as a concept. I’ve heard it was some harvest festival but I need to research the costume thing. How did some pagan harvest lead to me dressing like grimace and hassling the local elderly for an upgrade on my mealy apple or mini toothbrush. Man. I guess I’m kind of bored with this song. Oh hell yeah. This guitar rules. That’ll wake anybody up. Almost early 2000s nu-metal, except not hyper cringe. Shouty and pretty cool. Good return to form. Or beginning of form? Whatever. This is boring. It feels like a night shift. Vaguely depressing, interminable, and overall contributing to an early death. Whoa glass breaking. Makes me want to see stone cold come out. Unfortunately I just had to listen to this chilly 80’s mantra reading. Man this one starts off cool. It devolves into such repetition that I just don’t get it. Why is it that music nerds love things to repeat so much? Spooky. Weird. Interesting. Man my last song review could be the review for this whole album. It was repetitive and annoying in places but between the dissonance, the flirtations with metal, and the overall bizarre feel, I didn’t hate this thing. Solidly intriguing and worth hearing. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Arabian Knights, Monitor

I don’t wanna. Nooooo. The first Yeah Yeah Yeahs album surprised me and wasn’t horrific. The 2009 scares me. Let’s see. This is an odd one. I’m sitting here kind of slack jawed. I can’t in good conscience say that this is “bad,” but man do I ever not like it. That chorus is nails in a chalkboard and the music is just electro pop that just sort of sits there. Main keyboard riff isn’t too bad, but the rest is gross to me. Oh I feel like I’ve heard this song before. Apple commercial? Boring electronica. This is music that is meant to be interrupting conversations at lousy nightclubs. Repetitive and devoid of musical value. Some autotune crooning. Autocroon as the kids call it. Maps redux. Why create this? Why bring this to the world? Is there not enough suffering? This is an atrocity. Minus a billion stars. Skeleton feet? Skeleton me. That’s it. This is so bare and horrific. I am grasping for something to hold onto. This song is a descent into hell. Dull life, eh? Hmm. I wouldn’t remind the listeners of the word dull. Oh god. It’s electronic Mumford and sons. This is bad “btw.” Oh yeah here we go. I thought it was going to a big buildup for some crescendo. If it actually did that instead of just staying with the boring intro, it would’ve been PERFECT for some Hollywood ensemble comedy with an all female cast. Alas, I have to table the writing for Bridesmaids 2 and live with this blaring in my ear. Yes, please do a whisper ballad, we’ve had too much fun! (we haven't). Fuck this was brutal. This is, ugh let me check my notes, another pop song. My Mouth, OUR HOUSE! It doesn’t even seem well played? Wow! That’s an annoying chorus. To be fair to them, this sounds like it could’ve been released 8 years later. I mean chart music was still dreadful in 2017, but they had an early track on a shiny brand of terrible. Her “sweet” voice doesn’t work for me, so when it’s so heavy in the front, it’s not a win. Cash is NOT good for you fans of excellent SPEED network game show, Pass Time. What would the crossover be between people who know that show and read this review? 100% I assume as I’m the only one who fits both descriptions. This song is sappy and unpleasant. Pass. The obnoxious drums in the background ruin any softness this one had, but it was nice to leave the Berlin synth dungeon for a few bars. Bars? Like liquor establishments? Accidental pun? I don’t know. Who cares. This sucks too! This is my personal hell. It has the palpable desolation of a parking garage. Barren concrete erected where something vibrant once stood. By “something vibrant” I am referring to music, not previous Yeah Yeah Yeah’s works. My bones ache. Please give me a good album. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: What is a Highlight? A bright spot? A song I love? It can be either. A pleasant surprise, an amazing song, and even the best of a bad bunch. Oh yeah this thing had none of that.

Why do the words “bossa nova” conjure up images of Mambo number 5? Is Lou Bega’s seminal Mambo No. 5 the updated Girl From Impanema? Ehhhhh this is off to a rough start. Back up from the mic. Ahh the female vocals work way better here. And the saxophone is nice. It’s unfortunate that this is now the elevator song from movies, as I can’t say it’s bad. This is too happy. I would prefer to be able to understand the lyrics but I have yet to commit myself to learning English, let alone Portuguese so I’m flying blind with Doralice. The vocals do seem too happy but the music is nice. The vocals are too close. Is that a complaint I can have?? I’m not a huge vocal jazz fan. Anyway. Saxophone is nice, but it’s all so accessible and therefore, a little dull. Whispering singing. Terrible. Unedited lip smacking. Get back to the saxophone. Thank you. Yeah the singing doesn’t work. Now the female vocals are good-great. The English lyrics help my personal enjoyment as well. NOOOOO STAY OFF THE TRACK MAN. Somebody should’ve just said all his vocal tracks got lost and released the album without them. It’s talking off rhythm too close to the mic. This song is an instrumental which is better, but exposes another problem this album has. The guitar and percussion is stagnant and pretty much the exact same all the way through. He sounds like a shy high schooler afraid to sing at a school talent show. This one is a head scratcher. I like the overall tone and vibe of the album for the most part. I HATE the male vocals. The saxophone had a cool tone but the background instrumentation was lowest common denominator metronome music. The atmosphere can’t be denied, but the rest of it will leave my head before I’ve closed this tab. Lou Bega is rolling in his grave. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Girl from Impanema, Corcovado.

2018. Pop album. Why? I’m sure this won’t appeal to me but I’m a trooper. Listening to the French side. Not doubling up for 90 minutes. Come on. First song. Fuck sakes. I can’t even critique this accurately. This kind of music is not for me. I don’t think it’s for thinking. It’s supposed to be fun and bright and fluttery and make people happy or whatever. It’s unbearable. CHRIS. Why is this English now? I don’t know man. Listen. I’m not going to go to the ends of the earth to hear this one so French or English, whatever. This will hopefully be the last time I hear this anyway. This sounds like young Michael Jackson who discovered he can say swear words. Bad. The worst feature ever conceived. Bam. One step closer. More wailing. Overly dramatic but at least I get to practice my French. You know. This isn’t the worst song so far. Way too much repetition though. OH MICKÉ YOU’RE SO BELLE. Uh yeah. God this one is horrible. Just abhorrent. Boooooo. I meant to type an N, but hey. This typo is working for me. Bad. Pourquoi? Jellyfish jam. Ah man this thing would KILL at a postnatal dance workout class. Oh boy. More melodramatic RØSE (that’s French P!NK for all you linguo-Heads). Yeah this one is like you’re dying in the desert and you realize you’re completely lost and nowhere near getting to listen to Morbid Angel. How many god damn chansons we got left on this fucker??? WHO IS BRUCE??? I was just getting used to Chris and now there’s another name to learn. Scrap it. The G eh? Yup. I’m a French whiz. Le uhh genius de français. Check out that ç. Real fucking deal. I guess I can talk about the music again. This is glittery pop. 80’s diva stuff. Not for me buuuut The breaks are kind of fun. This song would be kind of fun if I was completely blitzed. Which doesn’t happen anymore. Ah well. Still a minor highlight. Mal ballade. I don’t like this. Thanks for trying. I think I have Stockholm syndrome in Paris because this isn’t a zero. While this individual was a terrible judge on drag race France, and most of their music is run of the mill pop, there’s something substantive about this album. Much more than I thought. By golly is it ever not for me, but I can’t say I hated all of it. 1-1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: La Marcheuse, Le G.

Had to go to YouTube for this so you won’t get my sparkling commentary throughout because I refuse to pay for ANOTHER subscription service. Now I sound like an old man. Let’s give another unheard of album a rip. Not another bad one please. Dude. This thing is IMMENSE. Huge surprise from the get go. The singing is insane in the best possible way and the lyrics are thought provoking and often tortured. The style changes are mostly fun albeit sometimes grating (I feel like some of it reminded me of “Let’s give ‘em something to talk about.” (Not a compliment)) HOWEVER, this album reeks of raw passion and soul and ends up coming across as a genuine expression of art rather than something to be reviewed well by music nerds. Not musically perfect, but emotionally poignant and ultimately impactful. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Call Me, Green, Rabbits Dying, Stand Up

Oooh buddy. Let’s friggin go bud. Canadian royalty. My first ever concert. Biased already. Will try to judge fairly. Ah man. I can’t. This song rules. Radio hit status or not, the technicality of the drumming, the sweeping, menacing main riff, the excellent vocals. The weird synths? The fucking drums. Incredible. Heard it 1000 times. Could probably go for another 1000. Gets whiny to start track 2 but man that riff comes in and is just devastating. Mixed with the odd “time signatures?” (I think that’s what’s happening, I don’t do musical theory). A lot of weird lyrical references to “my uncle,” which seems slightly hamfisted. But hey. Another good one. A song entitled YYZ? What’s this going to be? A tribute to Lester B Pearson? The airport or the man? It’s an instrumental, so I’m assuming both. I mean this was a better experience than being at that airport or even in the city of my birth for that matter. LIMELIGHT??? This song is so nice. The melody is perfect, the musical complexity isn’t just there for the sake of it. It adds to the presentation. The bass tone remains GNARLY. 10 minute song. Child’s play when it’s going as this has so far. The musical variation is so exciting all over this. The vocal lines are not my favourite. The spacey breakdowns work and the virtuosic yet impassioned playing of each instrument makes up for any songwriting shortcoming. Dark, technical. More wizardry. This one kind of has a “The Police” vibe. Not my favourite way to close, but not horrific. Listen. Rush rules. This only strengthened that point. Anywhere where the melody felt too sweet was underpinned with bass lines spidering all over and booming, technical drumming with a lush production. Canadian pride, prog rock excellence. 4-4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Tom Sawyer, Red Barchetta, YYZ, Limelight

Hmmm. Who are these young upstarts? Can’t say I’ve ever experienced something like this. Well. Here’s to new expeditions in music. Nah I’ve obviously heard every AC/DC song as I’ve heard all power chords in any order. Highway to hell is a good song. However, when it’s not being followed by the sultry tones of the Q104 morning drive crew discussing a viral video of a dog farting, there is definitely a longing in my soul. I don’t know what “backseat rhythm” is, but I don’t like it. This song is fine. Kind of grating actually. Walk all over you is too long. That first slow chorus hit pretty hard but the tenth time had me longing for a weather update from Beefer and the Shit on my drive home brought to you by Dude Wipes. This song has an excellent chorus. Very same sounding to all other AC/DC tracks but they found a decent formula and executed well here. Good chorus. A little glam, but a lot of fun. This one has a lot more drive. The sound is dated, but with fresh ears, this one would rip. And it does. Holy hell this is good. I have not only spring a bald spot, but a Harley Davidson muscle shirt has emerged from my skin. I have alerted a local physician. It’s the worst case of white boomer dad-itis he’s ever seen. I’m a sick man. This song was just there. Floated by. I do want blood. This is another monster. Man. I’m liking this and hating that I do. I’m trying to be cool and edgy but I simply will not escape the basic white man allegations. Lock me away, senator. Not an AC/DC ballad. Nooooo. Ok. False alarm. This one isn’t fantastic. Actually, when he says “you’re such a treat, a man’s got to eat,” that probably removed an entire star from the album. Single-handedly. I’m sure Angus Young is turning over in his pile of money having heard my scathing review of the lyrics he didn’t write. Night prowler. Decent, a little listless to end but YOURE LISTENING TO T109.7 THE TESTICLE *pant zip * AND WEVE GOT NOTHING BUT CLASSIC ROCK ALL GOD DAMN DAY *church bell.* AND IF YOU CANT HANDLE THAT, WELL MAYBE YOU AINT GOT NO BALLS *wolf whistle*. AND NOW HERES CHODE AND THE MOOSE MAN. Whether or not these songs come before traffic and weather on the ones, it’s a whole lot of fun. A good album that has a high energy and if it hit my ears in 1979, it probably would’ve knocked me on my ass. Misses out on a little substance and a cohesive album feel, but as a song by song experience, Highway to Hell is a hell of a ride. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Highway to Hell, Touch Too Much, Beating around the Bush, Shot Down in Flames, If You Want Blood (You Got It)

Am I on a cruise ship? Why is Rod Stewart here? There’s no way this can be good. Also, gasoline alley is a place in Red Deer, Alberta, so I’m hoping this album is about the donut mill/Wendy’s part. This song sounds like an alarm clock. Does that make sense? I feel like I’m being torn from a slumber and not fully aware of my surroundings but knowing I’m in pain and needing something to stop. This is 100% awful. Offensively so. I wish this was all over now. I’ve used the term “riverboat music” before, but this really takes the cake. No passion, just boredom. His voice is dreadful. I’m wondering how he feels about this woman? I wonder if he used to love her, and whether it’s all over. I think I need him to screech it 38-40 more times. I’m a slow learner. The word Hobo rules. That’s already a win. At least we’ve docked the booze cruise for the day. This is typically the type of song I like. But between the lyrics and the brutal singing, it’s just not hitting. This is attempted soul. Nice try Drunk Raffi. This is just so unlikeable and run of the mill. Not even the donut mill. He sounds like the best singer in a small town. He plays covers on Saturday nights at the local tavern. Goes a little too long. The bar clears out. I wish I could clear out. Sensitive piano. Who told this guy he could sing? Seriously. He sounds ill. I could just isolate the bass and I’d be happier. The drums sound bad, the vocals stink, the songwriting blows. The title is lame. THE BACKGROUND VOCALS. Man. That was funny. This song should be called “DO NOT PLAY.” Playing it might be equivalent to the video from “The Ring.” Small town boy living in a lonely world or whatever. What is this manufactured tortoise and the hare parable? Two guys have a foot race to win the hand of a woman? Man I’m glad I don’t live in whatever time this is (this never happened). Oh boy, a guy also takes violin lessons mid track! Shorty is like a melody in my head that has my inner child clawing against the walls of my meninges like a scared cat. This is one of the most deplorable, not good, very very bad songs I’ve ever heard but my god is it one of the funniest. Replete with wolf howls. This gets -5 stars. The perfect bad song. Blues guitarist “Relatively clear Waters”starting the track with a Long & McQuade heater riff. I think Rod forgot the lyrics that were written for him during the La La La’s. I love the folksy laugh. Reminds me that we’re all having fun here (We’re not). I like a good lament, however, the instrumentation is so amateurish and not in an endearing way. The lyrics are not good. This wasn’t the worst, but it wasn’t even funny which makes me mad. Here we go. He doesn’t want to discuss his relationship. You’re HIS GIRL and he will take NO DISCUSSION on the matter. This is so obnoxious. Not good. Probably the best song as we have the least Rod and there is at least enough music to distract from the poor playing. What can I say about ol rod? He tried his hand at everything here. What he excelled at primarily is performing bad songs. This was a complete mess. It entertained me to no end as a writing prompt but as a musical album? Full on despicable. No more musicians that could conceivably have a magician open for them please. 0-0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Alcoholism

A whole mountain made of an elephant? Or is the elephant walking around with mountains around him and whatnot? This sounds like a job for AI artists. Mostly because I’m cheap, not because I hate art. Folk-influenced is the word of the day. Yes, it’s a word if it’s hyphenated. This song is alright. Really liking the tones and overall instrumental. Not loving the vocals so far. They’re not terrible and willing to let it breathe. Getting real good after the solo. The vocals stepped it up. Smug eh? Hmmm. Interesting. It would seem that this song is uhhh not very good. That was me being smug as a joke. Not very easy to portray via text. Whatever. Picture a chubby white man smirking at an assertion that one form of media is superior. Medieval instrumental track. Jazz breakdown in the middle. I can’t say I hate this. Pretty fun. Loving the bass. Excellent jazz half. Sunlight. Nourishing rays settle over our earth as a blanket covers a newborn. Grass grows, in turn, nourishing the life it harbours. From nothing, sunlight creates. Peace. This song is nice. DOUBLE SUNLIGHT. THE SECOND SUN IRRADIATES A DECAYED SPHERE. FIRES SCRATCH AT THE ONCE BRIGHT EYES OF EARTH. SCREAMING HUMANS HURLED INTO LAKES OF MOLTEN DEATH. CHAOS. AND YET, THROUGH THE DEVASTATION, PEACE. Uhhh, This was just an interlude. We’re back from poetry corner. Good song here too. Nothing too crazy. Interlude and into “When I’m 64” by Americans. This one is somehow a little too normal. Nice waterfall finish. But not the best. There are so many interludes and whatnot. If a song floated by, hell, I can’t say. I have destroyed my integrity as the world’s worst music reviewer. NOW that is a tragedy. It’s not the 1000 typos in these stream of consciousness reviews, but my missing of songs on Elephant Mountain. Quicksand was fine. Sham is a 4 letter S word. So is Shit. I kid of course. Now I’ve wasted that fucking zinger on a good song. Ah well. Live and let die. Riding the wind to a close. Not something I’m loving. It’s a little long and repetitive and not necessarily doing enough for me. This was a cool one. Nothing mind-altering although I did break out into poetry halfway through. Mostly as an alternative to some shitty DouBlE rAiNbOW joke. Good to have artistic inspiration shot like a bolt as a direct rebellion to bad, millennial humour. The album itself didn’t do enough to blast into the 4 territory, but it was a nice time. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Darkness, Darkness, On Sir Francis Drake, Sunlight

Otis Redding songs songs other than Sittin in the dock of the bay!?!?! This can’t be right. I’ll call the list maker. It’s ringing. Hey, man. First of all, fuck you. Yeah, Uh huh. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs were big for you in college? Right right. What was the deal with that late era Bob Dylan album? Yeah? Well, it wasn’t good. Anyway, I’m seeing here that Otis Redding will not be singing his seminal hit “Sittin on the Dock of the Bay.” Hmm, I’m an idiot??? Well, we’ll see who’s the idiot when I write my OWN book called the 1002 albums that are better than The Killers’ Hot Fuss. Otherwise titled, every album ever written. Good day to you sir. Alright, I’ll call tomorrow. Take care. What were we talking about? Oh yeah. This first song was ok. Was hoping for a bit more punch, but it was fine. Did Otis write this song??? No R-E-S-P-E-C-T?? How else am I supposed to know how to spell any of this shit? Come on Otis. Good song. Here is the soul. Hell yeah. A change has indeed come. Arrived in a big fashion. YUP. The piano and drums are ripping. This one is good, and yes, I HAVE been sad. Otis would’ve LOVED relatable memes. POV when you see uhh POV that face when uhhhh me when I listen to music #ad Listen. This song doesn’t have much except his voice. His voice is good but it doesn’t stir me like some others have. Pass. You shake it like a bowl of soup. - Otis Redding, 1965. This song is kind of fun, but a little to roller rink and by no means earth shattering - Me, 2024. Otis wins as far as quotes go, but as far as being a talentless boob reviewing music? I have that puppy firmly in the bag. Very popular song. Wanted to hate it. The melodies are wonderful, the concept is nice. The horns blew out my eardrums. Luddite’s revenge in destroying my oppressive headphones. Still good. And my damaged eardrums will certainly the next 12 Bowie albums go down easier. He doesn’t know much about biology, or French. Same brother, same. Although why is this a weird ode to a student. Has the vibe of a 20 year old talking to a 14 year old outside the lunch hall. Do kids have lunch halls? Or is it just the TikTok gymnasium brought to you by Vape Pods. This is an excerpt from my new webstrip “Dunch: The man who hates everything that’s different and new-fangled, yet only has a vague understanding of any of it.” Anticipating huge Facebook shares despite large competition in that genre. More good soul. Excellent track with over the top lyrics, but hey, they work here. Repeats a little heavily towards the end, but overall decent. Did he write every song? A classic made famous by the Rolling Stones obviously. I mean Otis isn’t struggling for notoriety out here but still. Don’t tell me what I miss. Come on man. After all we’ve been through. You tell me I don’t miss my water. I miss that sweet water every day. I’m incredibly dehydrated. This isn’t a metaphor. This is a good reminder for me. Hmmmmmmmmm. Well. This album is good. Does it move me in any particular direction? Not really. Did I hurt my potential enjoyment by listening to Etta James before this? Possibly. We had fun today. And we learned a lot. Mostly that Otis Redding is pretty good. Not great, but good. Sorry. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: A Change is Gonna Come, Down in the Valley, My Girl, (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction

2019???? What in the sweet hell are you talking about? 6.4 million monthly listeners. Jesus Christ. Uhhh. Well I have no earthly idea what this is. Let’s give it a whirl. Interesting opening. Fluttery piano. Vocals are loud and a little blah, but nothing terrible. Percussion and glitchy instrumentation is alright. I’m not a “La La La” man, so that can go. This was ok. I like the guitar on track 2. The chorus is decent. The background interjections are pretty good. I like this one. Not for me bud. This sounds like the boring part of “Feel like Makin’ Love” has been slowed down to be played on vinyl in $3500 a month apartments in walkable, trendsetting neighbourhoods with multiple DIY pinball arcades. Pass. Cool minor piano keys. Return to form. Interesting soundscapes all over this track. Pitch shifted vocals work pretty well with the overall vibe. At least I think their pitch shifted. Jesus. This could be the reanimated Barry White, popping in for a post-mortem feature. That was just an intro. Now the real track. Piano joint. That could mean a piano song or a piano bar. I don’t love his singing, honestly. Something missing there. Boring rhyme scheme. The music is excellent though. Cool jazz with odd sounds. I wish the vocals would disappear. Ambient track with samples of quotes. I like it. No vocals means I’m happy. Jeeeez the vocals. Gets too FAHHHH. Bad news. All around forgettable and grating. “Hero” was ok. That’s all. This song will be very easy to say goodbye to. Never come back. Although Spotify DJ will play this one forever, because Spotify users don’t experiment. They only listen to songs they enjoy and I pay the price. No singing!! So far. That’s good. More of the cool soundscapes. Oh there it is. Terrible. The website broke so you miss out on my incisive commentary for the last few tracks. Well. Listen. This album had some incredible moments. Some of the lush, modern soundscapes were excellent. The vocals and feel were not for me. I thought some songs droned on too long and I could’ve used more variety in the vocal delivery or tone. Decent, but too grating to be called good. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Rolling, Another Human Being,

Ah sweet Jesus. When the words “rock” and “opera” intersect, I feel my blood boil. I feel my DNA scream as if warning me from my primordial past. An ancestral shiver travels my spine as though it’s a sign of strike from a crocodile. My hackles are up as we enter the theatre. May your deity have mercy on my soul and my distaste for theatrical bombast be ever untested. The initial riff rules. Oh boy. This is absolutely a theatre song. It’s a musical. The guitar tone is nice, the vocals are varied and competent (obviously) but they do SCREAM this is a scene set in an office in a community theatre production. Weird Beatles interlude. Kinda funny. Pretty decent musically again. A little nursery rhyme-y, but hey. It’s a silly interlude. This guy is in love with his car. This HAS to be a comment on overly performative masculinity. Or, maybe it’s what I have always said, there is something super weird about car guys and horse girls for the same exact reason. Don’t read too deep into that. Or do, but I won’t explain it. Use your critical thinking. (They want to fuck the thing). Anyway. What the hell is this song? I like the silly critique, but as a song, if I’m supposed to actually listen to this ever again, I will not. Holdin’ hands, sippin’ root beer floats with your honey down at the jukebox diner. Maybe your sweetheart will give you a kiss on the cheek when your chaperone ain’t looking, gee whiz! Man the guy can sing though. Despite my expert takedown of an idealized time in world history that is not necessarily reality, but a misremembering of certain aspects while omitting much of the truth of the era as humans are wont to do, this song is ok. What the hell is going on? This is basically maritime folk tinged now. Can’t keep up with the genre changes, which is really cool. Far too many of these albums pick a lane and occupy it, oftentimes poorly. Listen to me using car analogies. I’ll never beat the car romance allegations. This one was pretty cool. Typical rock song to start with a kind of freakout end to the thing. Lyrics are fairly lame, and by lyrics, I mean the song title and the repetition of that over and over. Nahhhh. I can picture the exact person this is for. Their description eludes me for the most part. Well, let me give it a go, during this odd horn breakdown (which is pretty fun to be fair). The most positive person you’ve ever met, despite having no reason to be positive whatsoever. A deep lover of musical theatre and probably has a pet gecko named Hermione or something like that. This person is also definitely in three to four parasocial relationships and calls YouTubers by their first names in comments. If this is you, oh boy, do I have the song for you!! Good riffs here. While it’s definitely the villains intro song in this ongoing rock opera (shudder), it’s a pretty decent one. Wait. What happens 4 minutes in? Why? Eh. It stays cool at least. Riffs all the way through. Best song so far. Piano ballad. Gearing us up for the rhapsodic ending that we all know is coming. This one is too cheesy for me. The actor is now on his knees in the middle of the stage, periodically stepping into ballet moves. Why do I know so much about musical theatre? I’m telling you, it sticks with me and gnaws at my very soul and provides enough cringe to launch a thousand grimaces. Not the beloved McDonald’s mascot. The facial expression. Although imaging a submarine shaped like Grimace is getting me through this sappy mess of a song. More Beatles worship here. Sgt. Peppers era. Even sounds like Paul McCartney. Meh. The most theatrical song to ever exist. It is so incredibly overplayed and overhyped but when I heard it the first time as a young fella, it crushed me. It still holds a place as an ambitious, artful rock song. Weird English national anthem closer. Alba gu bràth. I feel like I’m grading this on a curve. I feel like I absolutely hate it, yet I feel as though it’s wrong to feel that way. Hate might be a strong word as there are some excellent ideas and singing here. There is also much that just doesn’t appeal to me at this point in my life. This isn’t objective, it’s the subjective thoughts of a weirdo who spent most of this time making fun of theatre kids. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: ‘39, Prophet’s Song, Bohemian Rhapsody

Oh hell yeah. Canadian pride. Although it’s Ottawa. This isn’t a political commentary but Ottawa is like a weird fake city. Anyway. Here’s the 90’s angry hit machine we’ve all been waiting for (I haven’t been waiting for this). A full hour!!! Oh boy. Am I at a loss for poorly written words?? Kind of. I have no idea how to talk about this. Do I hate it? No. Do I love it? No. Do I like it? Kind of. RAHHHHHHHH LETS GO. I’m in my Mum’s 1996 Honda Civic once again. Oh no. The silly rap into the chorus. Bad bridge but you know what. This chorus is undeniable. Good and angry. Pop music peaked with this. Dumb nostalgia mixed with palpable energy. Screeching tires. I have been hurled from the aforementioned Civic onto the pavement of a 90’s ballad with horrendous lyrics. Trash pile. The TRUE mom banger. One hand in my pocket, and the other one is turning down the radio in order to think more about You Oughta Know. In all seriousness, it’s really not that bad. The choruses are catchy, and for whatever reason, as popular as this was, it doesn’t feel like it was distilled in a maintain lair by some Interscope executive. The deep tracks have not delivered yet. This is no exception. Return to sender. Ehhh. Some nerd on RYM said Forgiven was the only good song on here. It’s a little early 2000’s three days grace kind of shit. I mean, it is way less grating than that and gets progressively more interesting. Decent track. The vocal scatting type stuff is funny. This is the worst hit. So bad. Like, yes, people learn stuff from bad stuff. This reads like a lame psychology Ted talk. Bored me. The musical hipster returns with a lame Ted Talk reference and a flourished tip o’ the trilby. Another hit?? Alanis. Your 1995 was nuts. Mine was embryonic. Little hint out there for all you superfans. Nice little love song. Good contrast to the breakup songs I suppose. Circle of life. Deep track revival. Will it be a decent one? 1:15 in, that answer is an emphatic “no.” Full track elapsed. One of the worst. I won’t resort to the beaten to death and beyond bit that none of the things are ironic in this song, but you know what is ironic? I expected to hate all the hits on this thing and by god, I like most of em. Well 2 of them. So not most of them. Well, this has turned into a real black fly in my Chardonnay. First deep track banger. Great song about women not wanting to be mothers to boyfriends. I think? Man, I might be stupid. Either way, it’s good. Wake up sheeple. My phone doesn’t autocorrect sheeple. We’ve strayed too far. This song couldn’t wake me up if it was projected from the bleeding eyes of a demonic boar levitating above my bed. My sleeping cap wouldn’t even be dislodged. The a capella outro is pretty impressive. God. Well. That was pretty cool. Didn’t like a bunch of the deep tracks, but the good moments were really good. A ton of fire for a pop album and an enjoyable listen. Now to cleanse my palate with Wesley Willis’ monster hit “Alanis Morissette” followed by a trip to Rock n’ Roll McDonalds. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: You Oughta Know, Head over Feet, Not the Doctor, Your House - A Capella

Genius? Hey. I’ll be the judge of that. Why, you may ask? Because I’m highly judgemental and type like a Reddit moderator. That’s pretty much good enough for these days. This song was in Mafia 2. Man I’m a cultural savant. This thing runs like a freight train. Hell yeah. Jazz breaks, excellent singing, bombastic (in a good way) big band. “I got 50 cents more than I'm gonna keep” is a god damn “bar” as the kids say. Back down to earth. A little Frank Sinatra-y. Very of the time. Not my favourite. The best band in the land?? Man they must be hyped. Oh wait it’s a different band. Not his band. Anyway. This one is ok. The mix is destroying my eardrums a little but we stride on. Two years of Torture. Pretty decent. Good even. More smooth. A little too smooth. Still loving the jazz interludes. The quiet moments in this one are nice. Deed I Do is real good. Blues, jazz, quality vocals. Yes. This is what I want. Excellent blues, mixed with jazz piano. Soulful music with some complexity thrown in. Just for a Thrill is pretty great. You won’t let me go. If this album was bad I could have a field day there. What is a field day? Be right back. Apparently anything that happens in a field after 1800. So like a big fun dance OR some sort of weird ritual. Whatever you want. This was fine. Bad. Not a good song. Feels lazy. Next please. I guess my review got lazy too. You get what you pay for Mr. Charles. Do NOT let the sun catch you crying (Not clickbait) (Scary). Floated by. Yes Ray, you’re blue. Somebody answer the man, it’s been 65 years. Probably because he forgot to put a question mark. He asks “Was I gay?” Huh? Do we have a LGBTQ2S+ Queen on our hands? I love it. Call him Slay Charles. One more track. Very solid. Excellent vocal outro. As can sometimes happen, the beginning of an album is so exciting and when the surprise wears off, it stays where it is. The big band became more obnoxious as I continued through this thing. I know Ray was blind, and if the enhanced ability of other senses thing is true, those horn blasts must’ve blown his ears to hell. Makes me question the musical voracity of his Wrestlemania appearance. Nah. That thing was airtight. This album was good. Not quite wrestlemania 17, but maybe like Wrestlemania 1. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Let the Good Times Roll, Deed I Do, Just for a Thrill

Weird stuff inbound 🚨. I don’t know if the red lamp emoji translates but oh baby it’s on. Let’s see what this has to say. Odd glitchy music. Man. A little slow paced. Not loving this start. The music grows to be more interesting near the end. That’s cool. Hell yeah. When it increases in volume and the atmosphere suffocates. Very nice. Whoa. Distorted indie pop. I love this. Excellent melody, palpable eccentricity. Quality. Oh we’re sticking with the distortion. That’s very good news for dweebs like me. And I am indeed a dweeb like me. Another nice pop song with a fascinating sound. Dreamy, odd ballad. Really nice. Calm. This thing hasn’t missed. Right from the praying individual in drag, to the oceanic outro of this song. Well nobody’s perfect. Memory boy will be unremembered, and considering its attempt to be catchy and repetitive, I feel like that’s the worst thing I can say about it. Where is the buzz?? Where is the distortion?? Where is the intrigue?? I’m hunting for this as though it’s a deer. Man. Even my writing is off. I need tripe and this is trying to feed me it, but I can’t quite get it right. I have no “Desire” to hear “Desire Lines” ever again. Oh god it never stops. Ok. Here we go. This is very similar to that song that goes “dreeeeeaaaam,” that’s in every 50’s prom/high school scene. Pretty good. The six million dollar man goes to boathouse. We’re back baby. Esoteric references that couldn’t possibly be funny to anybody but me. This is a great song. The odd, drippy background music, the plucky guitar or ukulele thing. All great. This one was fine. Sort of floated by. Coronado. Is that the sopranos guy? Yeah let’s go with that. I love that nobody can respond to these. Anyway. Good song. A bit of a listless end at parts, it the beginning and end are great. Filled with soul and draw for me as a listener. How did I miss this? I can’t give it a 5 because it’s not perfect but I will absolutely be back to this one. Immense depth, rife with emotion, intrigue and enough oddity to keep me entranced for 48 minutes. The pop flourishes buried beneath an introspective murk make for a beautiful album. More of this. 4-4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Don’t Cry, Revival, Sailing, Helicopter, Coronado

C’est Chic. C’est mal ou c’est bien? The fates shall decide. If this is where that disco song comes from, we may be holding our noses for about 41 minutes. Oh no. It’s not that song, but I imagine it’s coming up. 4 note disco/funk riff and canned applause. Oh sweet Jesus no. Not this. Anything but this. Well. Not anything. But this is like thinking you’re going to Disneyland and showing up at a haunted sewer plant tour. It’s not that it’s terrible, it’s just boring and I hate the atmosphere. Don’t spell chic. Jesus. Maybe it is terrible. I’ve never experienced a longer 4 minutes outside of physical pain, so there we go. And there it is. “Le freak.” Ugh. If school of rock was a terrible disco movie, this would be the final song. Cheesy, childish, and unfortunately, bad music. Ugh. We’re going to get into the god damn Chic deep tracks? Why are they trying. To get meaningful here. I can’t say I hate the guitar solo. It’s pretty good. Decent tone. No group vocals is a win. Again, just too sappy and pedestrian. I’ll probably be living for this song to come back after the rest of this thing, so not too shabby. Happy man. Not me pal. Boring, bad. Bad vocal line, terrible disco guitar. Dead behind the eyes repetition meant to be danced to on barbiturates. The song “At Last I am Free” almost fills me with an emotion. I can really relate to this song. I wish to be free of this album, but this is only track 6. A vocal ballad. End it. Please. The good people of Chic, if any of you remain on this cursed earth. End this album. This is Disco on 5 RPM. Did this need to be 7 minutes?? This has been the same for FOUR MINUTES and it wasn’t good to start. Interminable dreck. Hey, they’re right. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Chalk this puppy up to a crushing defeat. Boring outro about nothing in particular. Easy activism. Some albums have an atmosphere. A general feeling of, well, something. Anything. C’est Chic feels like a linoleum floor in a Motel Laundromat. Which I suppose is an atmosphere of some sort. One that produces despair, and has the listener questioning what it is they did wrong to end up here. C’est très mal. 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Savoir Faire is the best of a rotten bunch.

Something tells me this isn’t going to be a romp at the beach. Isn’t Neil Young the most serious man on earth?? Well. Only one way to find out. Ehhhhh this one is actually very beachy. I wanted introspection and misery to be honest. Not a terrible song, but not necessarily for me. Again, I just want more from this. The darkness was there, and the guitars soaked in reverb near the end are pretty cool. I also feel like the vocals are an acquired taste and I haven’t fully acquired it yet. Also, harmonica is a death knell for any enjoyment. Whoa, Neil is getting upbeat. This one is appealing to me far more. Odd, fun lyrics and an atmosphere of slight dread. Great. Singing songs for pimps?? A benefit concert for pimps perhaps? Somebody needs to buy them canes. I appreciate that about Neil. Always looking out for the little guy. Providing walking aid to our nation’s most beleaguered demographic, the noble pimp. This song is boring. Another type of blues now. Revolution and vampires, the two genders. And a big spoiler, we have ambulance blues coming up. The three genders. I have to say, this song is cool again. Laid back, yet still with something to say. Even if it is Neil Young saying that he’s a vampire. World is turning, away???? From Neil? Wow. Truly one of the lyricists of all time. Nah he’s good. I do like his turn of phrase. More odd, bluesy sort of music. It’s a little plodding but he’s got the gist of it. Nobody wanted to interview poor Neil. Ah, I actually really like this one. It’s pretty cool. Man this thing is slow. Hoo boy. I’m liking it at times and this thing has picked up heavily since the beginning in so far as emotional depth, but I don’t know about this one. Slow burn harmonica replete with bongos. Not my favourite. Don’t say riverboat. That’s MY thing. Why is it that riverboats conjure up the most cringe I can imagine? Anyway. Neil Young is a heel confirmed. Who is the babyface? Don’t say Lynyrd Skynyrd. That’s a surface level cut for all you diss track fans. Long song. Not my favourite and a weak closer “imho.” Well. First foray into Old Man himself, big Neil. No mentions of the free world, but plenty of blues. From hating the album cover and the first couple tracks, this thing really picked up. Eccentric lyrics, cool atmosphere, but just not enough to say anything fantastic. Thanks Neil, you old Canadian weirdo. Keep fighting the good fight for the free world and indeed, the pimps. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Revolution Blues, Vampire Blues, On the Beach

Entering the pleasuredome. Pleasure suit, engage. Activate intro. Initializing. 64 minute album detected. Inject pacifying drug. Flushing memories of “Relax” from system. Process complete. Let’s get slay folks. Let’s start off with a 13 minute romp through the jungle. Oh sweet Jesus no. The vocals. Well as this keeps going, it’s at least varied. The bass breakdown section with the shouted background vocals was really sick. That was fine overall. Some terrible portions. The big hit. Hey Frankie. Don’t tell me what to do pal. I’ve never been able to relax in my whole life buddy. Also, don’t say “come” and make that noise. I’ve called HR. The bass was pretty good but overall this isn’t for me. More fun synth bass in music that I don’t care for. Vocals too close to the mic. Wait it’s a sample of a Reagan… impersonator? I can’t imagine big Ron saying something positive about Che Guevara or Malcom X or even knowing the word endeavour. This is a multi-layered, interesting song. Two Tribes is mid to me. 80’s new wave bleh. Doesn’t really move the needle. Ehh dumb. I am repressed and that’s the way I likes it. Ooh scouse accent. That’ll save anything. Still bad. I never want to hear Bruce Springsteen do anything. I can’t imagine a worse singer. I destroyed the Killers. They’re truly awful. I demolished U2 as they are bloated rich twats who think they’re revolutionaries. Bruce Springsteen is blue collar cosplay who is the musical equivalent of a Bryan Adams impersonator who has a half full punchcard at Jersey Mike’s. This SUCKS. Oh boy we’re really going downhill here. San Jose sounds awful. Won’t visit anytime soon. I think we all wish the lads were here. Nothing beats hanging out with the lads. Now it feels like every thing I say is also a gay euphemism. When in Rome I suppose. Not a great review or even a great song. Moaning nosies over the intro to wanted dead or alive by Bon Jovi. Surprisingly, not great. Krisco Kisses is apparently ANOTHER euphemism. I learned this one from the good people of RYM. Most of the people of RYM are not good people actually. Most are extremely angry and pretentious dweebs with a high degree of self-importance. Doesn’t sound like anybody I know. Anyway, this song is like if Devo was hyper sexual and also not good. Wake me up when this song ends. Zzzz risjh doitnr huh im awake. Unfortunately. Awful ballad. Plodding, listless. Boring outro. Initializing pleasuredome exit procedure. Generating scathing remarks nobody will read. Increasing musical ignorance. Enhance. Engage. An album that I hated with moments of vibrancy. Can’t say it’s bad, but this isn’t about objectivity is it? Will never listen to again, and after 64 minutes, I limp out of the pleasuredome with a new appreciation for the sweet sweet silence all around us. 1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: War

It’s gay week on the album front baby. Wooo! I’m not sure if this is gay to be fair, but after Frankie and his trip to Hollywood never truly entered the pleasure dome, I’m still oiled up and ready to go. I have no idea what this will be. This sounds like U2 a little bit. Not terrible. A touch whiny. So not good either. Better start to track 2 aaaand a divebomb into boredom. Why? We had something driving and it has veered off a cliff into a vat of boiling sludge. Scratch that. Lukewarm sludge. This sucks. Also, why does every Spotify description of these bands claim them to be the progenitors of Brit-pop? Oasis, the Boo Radleys, these weirdos, The Beatles. Who else? Whatever. Anyway. I don’t think these guys invented this. It’s all very middling. Clash type. I normally think the Clash sucks, but I was starved for energy. We finally have some. Please don’t descend. Oh there it goes. At least we get a return. Best song so far. Holy hell this is terrible. Draggggggging through this track list and not one. Good way. Pantomime seems cool from what I’ve seen in drag performance, but this song lacks any of that energy and humour. This song is kind of nice. Nice 90’s indie pop sort of feel. Memorable and not lacking in pep like the rest of this dismal track list. From a sweet indie ballad, to a disgusting, sappy, garbage ballad teeming with pomp and boredom. AWFUL. Was the last song a joke and this is what they wanted to do? This is U2 without the production values. Which I prefer, but still, bottom of the barrel. This song hit me like a half tab of melatonin. Fine. A little uptick in energy, but as that level rose, so did the annoyance. Fuck this is a horrible song. See last track review. Do I hate music? I can’t believe I haven’t found a 5. Just something that is good all the way through and doesn’t annoy me at any point. This album had “the Drowners” and that song is excellent. “Moving” is also good. Not quite as good, but it’s there. The feeling that the rest of this album gave me was so negative that I can’t give this anything beyond a 1. It’s not valueless like the zeros I’ve given out but I just can’t say this had enough to climb into the even barely listenable category. This is a .5 eked up a star by one excellent song and one decent one. I really wanted gay week to be stronger. Until then, I’ll be scrubbing this from my Spotify algorithm. 1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Moving, The Drowners

Well. Listen. I can’t take too many potshots at this. Yes, it’s in front of me, and yes I’m a huge nerd who likes to say mean stuff, but this is like critiquing a kids movie. It’s chart targeted pop. With that being said, I’ll probably be so enraged by the end that I lash out at the world but at poor Xtina??? I couldn’t dream. Feminist anthem. Pretty cool lyrically but obviously devoid of music. Next. GRRRRRRRRRR. I stuck my key into the side of my ears and dug until I forgot that I’m listening to this and also I need new keys and a ride home. I threw up and I’m scared. HUH HAMAS??? Didn’t expect a political queen. He intrigues her with every move BUT her mother was thankfully racist and warned her against the scourge of Latin lovers. Wait. Is this a Latin American Romeo and Juliet???? “Hey Christina, listen, before we continue dancing to Ricky Martin I gotta tell you, I’m full-blood borricua.” “Thank you for telling me, Oscar, it’s ok, as I am also partial Boricua, esé.” The dumbest club love song ever recorded. I love it. A self love spectacle. My god did this drag forever. Girl. Speak on it. I like some of the original songs that this is based on (70s R&B) I do not like glorified covers from 2002. What is happening? Because this kind of music has been in the radio for so long, I feel like I’m in a dentist chair having phantom tooth pain. The brain is powerful. If only one or two was used to write this music. Ugh where are we. Uhhhh who really cares. I wasn’t supposed to say mean stuff. So let’s take an interlude to remind everybody that while this is terrible to me, the nature of music review and any art consumption is wholly subjective. If you like this, fantastic. If you don’t, fantastic. Anyway. Now we’re on the makeup commercial song. Bad. NINE songs to go. ELEVEN have elapsed. That wasn’t even an intention 9/11 reference. Just a sign of the times I suppose. “Make Over” is probably the worst song thus far. No redeeming value as a musical experience. The back to back four letter word songs feel like filler. Brings to mind other four letter words like “shit” and “next.” Mutual masturbation song. That’s good. Redman is here for some reason. He was rapping and stuff. ANOTHER Rottweiler production? Wow. I’m still reeling from the first one. You have to say, for a dog, this fella can really produce. This one’s for the dreamers. Is there an emptier statement than that? Maybe “thoughts and prayers.” I wouldn’t say that the music is “ok” but another ballad. This is not what I’d call “music to sit and listen to.” Personally, I feel like that’s the point of music, but there is a large group of people who like to sweat and attempt to mate and they need a backing track for that activity. There’s also the moms and kids listening to the radio which is innocent enough. I for one do not fit into either caregory. This is not for me and not what I intend to review for this project. HOWEVER, there were obvious moments of passion and I feel like Christina Aguilera actually comes across as genuine and like she cares about the words she is saying. That means something. I still despise the music and it’s way too long and boring for me, but I can respect aspects of the performance. Despite all of that, please hand me my early 2000s pop diva conductor hat which I will neglect to respectfully tip, but will instead, hurl to the ground, ruining its trademark poof. That breaks my heart as an enthusiastic enjoyer of terrible hats. See what you did to me, radio pop? I’m a broken man. 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: The Cholita Love narrative and imagining that sweet conductor hat dashed upon the damned soil of this toilet earth

Only 26 minutes??? Dolly, you spoil us. After yesterday’s SEVENTY SEVEN MINUTES of Xtina, this will probably feel like a cool drink of water. I’ve listened to more Dolly than I ever have in the last couple years, but this one will contain mostly new stuff. Deep tracks better deliver. This is just a nice song. I mean I’m sure it’s vaguely religious somehow, but it’s a sweet sentiment and nice little pop country song. Before pop country was designed to sell trucks and beer to morons. Holy hell. Kicking it up a notch. God I do like this era of country. Guitar rips pretty good, voice is full of energy. This one is quite fun actually. There’s such an understated folk aspect to this song. Sounds ancient which is a very good thing. Man, modern music is terrible sometimes. This is probably the best of the bunch so far. The weird polyamory diversion is interesting. By interesting, I mean highly out of place. This one is not hitting the same. A little paint by numbers country. The mystery of the mystery??? This might be what finally breaks my case wide open. I’ve been walking these lonesome streets for a while now trying to make a dollar out of two dimes and now this broad with a crazy coat says she’s got some mysteries to solve. This damned city never sleeps. That concludes the noire detective portion of this review as we wait for the direct god stuff to be over. Whoa. Is this a diss track? Man. I love these old jealousy ballads. Yeah, Dolly. Scorch that skank. Pretty sweet. Whoa, some introspective bass opening. Is this the 90’s?? Ah nice, more folk. Her voice is really quite good. Couldn’t decide for awhile but it is nice. A tortured warble, which may sound like a critique, but it has character and passion. This stripped back instrumental is so good. Hmm. This is not something I’d listen to alone. Or really at all. It’s sweet, but not for me. Too much piano. Not enough going on. Too sappy. Here I am. Well. You’ve been here for awhile Dolly. Has anyone performed a wellness check on 1971 Dolly Parton? Did wellness checks exist back then? Was it a kick in the ass and a verbal teardown? Probably. This song is alright. She’s givin’ it large, as I heard some person say once. She’s really embodying that nonsense saying. Not the La La’s Dolly. You were doing so good. Less memorable. This album started off like a gentle freight train. Like one of those trains that take you through an old-timey amusement park. Gentle, fun, time to take everything in. AND it mixed in the thrill of big trains. Damn. Maybe I need to go to one of these places. Anyway. This album exhibited passion, capable singing and a lot of excellent songwriting only to be let down by a same sounding side B. A lot of the boxes ticked in my seemingly arbitrary album review process and a lovely listen all around. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Coat of Many Colo(u)rs, Traveling Man, My Blue Tears, Early Morning Breeze

Oh ho boy. Here we go. Untalented angry white boy listens to talented angry white boy from a quarter century ago. I’ve worn a sideways hat or two in my day. No stolen valour here. Man. Apparently Slim Shady is going to kill me. There are so many skits in rap albums. I hate it. Yeeesh. These lyrics are so cheesy. I can almost feel being 12 again and thinking I wasn’t supposed to listen to this. I probably shouldn’t have to be fair. This is trying too hard. Every slur in the book for no reason. Lame. Stan is a good song. The hook is fantastic, the rapping is excellent and multi-faceted. It lays it on a little thick, but at least there is an attempt to address some level of emotional depth. I do like to think that Eminem only writes in rhyme. Addressing letters to the PhD committee on behalf of prospective Dr, “Dre.” Hi it’s ME, Dearest committEE, it’s imperaTIVE that you GIVE my homIE Dre this doctorate, this PhD. Uhh. That’s all I got. He really does make fight music for high school kids. I also have to say. This is Christina Aguilera for boys. Same era too. If that crushes some souls, it might be time to put down the monster energy and go outside. Ooh boohoo oh no Marshall. Nooo. He has fans??? That. I can’t say it. Want to *sob* talk to him?? How does this appeal to the destitute middle schooler in Winnipeg or some shit. None of us care about your fame. Be relatable or at least less annoying. This is WAY overdramatic. Bad. This is “My Name Is” part 2. I remember this shocking me as a very young fellow. I would much rather hear this irreverent, goofy Eminem, than the hyper aggressive school shooter hoodie Eminem. This has some level of attitude and subversion. Remember Me? Huh? Me??? Who? If you’re asking if I remember “Sticky Fingaz” or “RBX,” the answer is no. They weren’t bad though. This one wasn’t bad overall apart from that bone-headed chorus. I’m Back is pretty entertaining. Again, fewer slurs. Less drywall punching. A little more of that self-deprecating, yet somehow sinister vibe that made early Eminem interesting. School shooting bars don’t age well, but hey, when you’re American, you rap about what you see. What a dump. Man, the homophobia is BRUTAL. Like why was being gay the worst fate that could befall a human? I mean I hate ICP like any rational human, but the bevy of material there before you have to bring up homosexuality is dizzying. This sucks. One of the worst songs I’ve heard on this entire list. What is happening? Aside from the LOUD eh “aural” scene, the next song “blows” too. Terrible circus beat (that’s a coincidence hey?) and an even worse flow. Booooooring. Oooh the most shocking lyrics of all time. Who cares? ADULTS released this. It’s not even accompanied by a cool tone. I love death metal which has a horror atmosphere. Anger distilled into abrasive sounds. This? There’s no atmosphere here. The second Eminem verse is decent. At least it’s about something kind of real. I don’t think “Bizarre” (who are these morons?) did any of the things he laid out in his verse. Thankfully. Big features here. I don’t think Dr. Dre will say anything about raping everybody or whatever. At least I hope not. Nathaniel Dogg is a Hoss and Xzibit just threatened to fill my Toyota Corolla with mud flap monitors that exclusively play this song. This one is a highlight at this point. Are we supposed to cheer for Eminem? This is like the end of “Down with the Sickness,” extended over 6 endless minutes. Terrible. Torturous. D12 as a squad has a better flow than most. I have to say. I almost chuckled at the line “it’s going to cost $300 dollars to get my pit bull an abortion” but upon review, it’s apparent that this rapper is NOT a pro-choice queen, and was rapping about impregnating dogs to be edgy. This is devoid of brain cells. I feel like I’m being chirped by dimwit hockey players again. I’m surprised “heterophobic” hasn’t caught on in the intellectually dull online sector. This song floated by. I think I lost IQ points. Maybe I’ll start defending billionaires online. Maybe the conspiracy theorists are right and whatever is in the food or the “chemtrails” (see jet streams) are making me a woke moron (see not misogynistic/homophobic), but this thing sucks for the most part. I felt embarrassed listening to it. This feels like the soundtrack for teen couples who are 38 now and instead of drinking heavily and rallying against the system, they’re drinking heavily and posting misinformation on Facebook or pining for the “good old days” when you could say slurs. Listen, some of these were good songs that had a rebellious tone, but most of the Marshall Mathers LP is ham-fisted drivel intended to piss off middle class moms rather than say anything of substance. Tastes evolve and this is at the bottom of that evolution wallowing in primordial ooze. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: Stan, The Real Slim Shady, I’m Back, Bitch Please II

1978. Could’ve sworn this came out later. I guess this really is stream of consciousness. Sometimes consciousness isn’t all that interesting. As a rule, I hate glam rock, but I’ve found Van halen doesn’t fit that mould in the same way that Motley Crue or god forbid, Poison do. Running with the devil. Excuse me, “Runnin’ with the devil.” Not a bad track. The guitar tone and vocals are excellent, the chorus grates in me a little bit. Feels a tad like a glorified intro but still heavy and pretty high octane starter. Eruption was mythical to me as a kid. I think that was the whole idea, but my god is it ever good. The tone just rules, and yes the secret is out. It’s tapping, but it’s played with such fervour. I love it. HOLY JESUS. It’s so nice to hear heavy guitar. A great Kinks song with the modern technology of that guitar tone. I say modern guitar tone. This is the equivalent of an artist today covering a song from 2010. Yeesh. Another ripping intro. Less exciting as a song. Back to the high energy stuff. This thing keeps trucking along. Oh no, no vocal scatting. Please. I guess it’s probably ironic. I’ll allow it, but don’t let me catch you doing it again. The riff in “Jamie’s Cryin’” is excellent. The lyrics are odd/mid, but that chorus is simply too good for me to be all that snarky. Although, what’s with the lack of “G’s?” I’m not talking about noted gangsta figures either. I’m talking about the song titles. Anyway. Good song. This is almost metal in places. Heavy tone, psychotic vocals. Just so good. Oh god. The riff is insane but this is poison lyrical content. Double meaning meant. “Hey baby, I’m sorry I sexually assaulted you in a car, whatta ya say we get together later?” Oh the 70’s. Still. Riff is great. Little dreamer. Why not beautiful dreamer as sung by Chris Peterson auditioning for zoo animals on wheels. Now that allowed America to dream once more. Decent song but nothing to write home about. Classic. Loved as a kid and is still fun now. Ignoring the innuendo as a child and tolerating it now, this probably helped me get into metal. It sounds odd, but this tone and energy is just so close to metal. Listen to that audible bass too. Damn fine. On fire is a great closer. More gruff vocal delivery with some amazing wails. This song is fantastic too. It sounds like King Diamond and Slayer. Like. How did I miss this shit? I expected to be brought back down to earth on my expectations here, but this album is so god damn good. Driving, aggressive and with one of the best guitar tones/performances I’ve heard possibly ever. Not perfect, but a monster of an album that will get some return play. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Eruption, You Really Got Me, Jamie’s Cryin’, Atomic Punk, Ice Cream Man, On Fire

I actually got a pit in my stomach. The cover gave me Killers energy and I felt sick. I was relieved to remember that this is the Strokes and I have enjoyed a few of their songs. I am haunted by the spectre of the Killers. I have “hid” their songs on Spotify and the “DJ” feature still tries to play them. Anyway. This has to better than that. Low bar. Man, that bass is audible. Pretty good song. Simple melody and the bass is super cool. Ehhh. Noooo. Not. Not good. That’s not a double negative. I’m just trying to convey conversational rhythm. Very hard as a poor writer on an iPhone keyboard. I knew I hated the modern age. When the vocals elevate themselves out of that signature, fuzzy, murmuring croak, it’s pretty exhilarating. Reminiscent of the Doors somehow? Soma is a great example of this. One of the worst phrases to ever hit the lexicon, “Barely Legal,” is not a terrible song. Bah. A lame section near the end kind of tears it apart. Didn’t love this. This one is better. When they go the melodic route with more vocal variation, it works for me. Although. The riff here is getting a little tropical. It has an eye towards the beach. Come back to me. The moaning. Man. This wicked riff to start Alone, together is excellent, and then the momentum is halted by the croaking. Middling. Oh this is a popular one. Full on beach riffs now. Practicing Santeria. Although. Damn. It is infectious. It’s nice to have some drive in the vocals and any song that drags that out, is fine by me. Hmmm. From the super cool electronic beginning enters a Coldplay riff. Jesus this one sucks. Undulating verses. Feels like motion sickness. Drivel. New York City Cops??? What the sweet hell is this chorus? Terrible. A funny start AGAIN ruined. Starting to get upset at this. I mean I don’t have any investment in the intelligence of the NYPD, but I do have an investment in choruses that don’t suck big time. Please save this. I don’t know if “Trying your Luck” saved anything, but it was fine. Reminded me of the hit game show “press your luck” and the 2003 remake “Whammy,” which was fun because people got confetti and stuff dumped on their heads while losing devastating amounts of money. Why do they say North America doesn’t have culture? Well this really is the question isn’t it. Take it? Or leave it. Eh. Much of this album feels very familiar. I assume that means this album HAS made a big impact on music and therefore requires listening just due to its influence. With that being said, it’s one of those painful mixed bags for me. There’s little to despise for the most part, and sadly, there was also very little to love. The second “side” really wore out its welcome too as I became less tolerant of the same sounding vocals and riffs. All of this leaves me with a mediocre review of a somewhat mediocre album. I think I’ll leave it, thank you. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Is This It, Soma, Last Nite

Well. There goes any worries about genre ambiguity. Hardcore Punk. Or just beat down Hardcore like Terror? We shall see. It could be an elaborate ruse meant to bait me but that simply cannot be. What??? Wait a second?? Is this just an intro to the hardcore album? It’s really long for that. Alright guys you got me. Can’t wait for the Discharge influence to really break through on the next one. My commitment to this dead/dying bit aside, I can’t decide how I feel about this right away. There’s a melodramatic, theatrical element that I hate, but there are some nice moments of melody as well. “I’m not Jesus but I’ve got the same initials.” I audibly groaned. This almost feels like something I’d like if it had any shred of likability. Does that make sense? Bah. I’m sure none of my reviews have anyway, so why start now? These lyrics are awful. Bordering on a joke song where I’m still waiting for the punch line. Oh god this song is horrible. It makes me want to party in the style of John Belushi. Overdosing and dying. Maybe I’ll fade out before the end of this song! Another boring song. Everything feels very tongue in cheek, but also devoid of anything to say. What are we being subversive against? This is Hardcore. Again. The false advertising. This sounds like a film score and due to the lack of vocals, probably starts better than any song on this album thus far. And there they are. After hearing “you are hardcore, you make me hard,” I would typically skip but I said I’d do this right. I have to be here. This is the background music to a terrible sex scene in a show about young people written by old people. Dreadful. Holy shit it’s not over? Bottom of the barrel here. Can only elevate from this point. I might break it up with an Agnostic Front song or two. The vocals are so bloody obnoxious. Swamp fumes levels. Miasmic stench rippling off of every belch from this pretentious dolt. And this was the best song so far. Still, not good. The giggle before “Try me,” made me punch the screen. Awful. This is Type O Negative afflicted by a horrible blood disease. Those affected “baritone” vocals. Look up BoDaddy Harris on instagram. Some weird man who essentially belches songs. This has to be his favourite band. Hopefully the singer was restrained and also cast off to sea. Oh no he’s back. STOP SINGING ABOUT SEX. YOU ARE GROSS. Hey. The lyrical content is vomit inducing, especially coming from this fella, but at least the slow pulse of the song fits the vocal delivery. The whispered soliloquy halfway through this marathon through broken glass has genuinely made me asexual. Hahahahahah. When he tries to exhibit range. Fuck. Also, how many allegations does this guy have on the books? How many *off* the books?? You should apologize to me. Not Sylvia. This is almost a decent song. It sounds like an Oasis song went through the paces at a Steven Seagal vocal delivery camp and was then slowed to half speed. We really are in the glory days! This album is almost over! Besides a FOURTEEN minute escapade to fully bring this medical waste barge to port. 10 minutes of ambient chime interrupted by this moron saying “bye bye.” Just shut up. Man. I get such a pretentious feel from this. While not Type O Negative, I think they might actually relate more to Type AB+. The universal recipient. They offer nothing to anybody. They only take. It took my time, my ear space and even small amounts of electricity. Everything has a disgusting, unctuous sheen that makes this so thoroughly unlikable. Add in bad clap sound effects, fairy tale swells and slap a girl on the cover. You’ve got “This is Hardcore.” Music for people with a pocket full of rohypnol who think they’re the smartest person in the room. 0-0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: I almost forgot to include this section! That was close.

That’s certainly one of the album covers of all time. That’s not one my lazy typos that elude me until these things are updated. It’s a bad stolen joke. Anyway. Let’s get the next train wreck on the tracks. Our First stop gets us to a song that regales us with the heartwarming tale of a slave ship captain who likes to have sex with black women. Music really is a beautiful expression of feeling isn’t it? What is a tent show queen? That’s probably also racist. This song stripped of lyrics is actually great, but I can’t abide by this whole er “package.” Sway was decent? I suppose. My 2024 brain has been broken. I can only imagine a drag queen with a speech impediment. Moving swiftly onward. Wild horses is bad country. I feel like I’ve heard this song covered a billion times. This one might be a cover for all I know but it’s the perfect song to cover for people on TikTok who can’t sing AND have no personality. Is this a good time to mention I’ve never really loved the Rolling Stones? I find them to be grating for the most part. During this pseudo-jazz breakdown in the middle of another boring song, I am feeling justified in that previous opinion. It’s fine. Like just in the middle fine. Alright. Jail song. This is either the entrance theme to hit movie “Holes,” or the ambient music from “Prison Tycoon.” Oh my god. Is Adam Sandler on vocals? This is his exact joke singing delivery. With what sounded like a barrage of insults. It’s not that bad. Probably the best so far, honestly. I hate the horns in this song, but the rest of it is pretty cool. Bitch, eh? This was probably pretty subversive for the day. Now all bets are off, but back then, between this album cover and a song called “Bitch,” some exorcists were definitely called. That’s a good thing in my book. This song is terrible. It’s Aerosmith with a slightly less obnoxious vocalist. The organ has a nice tone, but then that also veers this thing close to the riverboat casino territory. Bad song. Now I’ve got the blues. More white guy blues. Nothing going on here. Oh my god he’s trying to do American Country. Which from the era it’s worshipping, that would be good, but this has dumb piano parts. Saloon-core. Dreadful. Moonlight Mile is ok. I JUST WANT TO LIKE STUFF. I really don’t open these up with the intention of being an asshole. Am I too critical? Has my brain has been ruined by instant gratification loops perpetuated by society’s devolvement into a culture meant to extract maximal profit with minimal quality? Whatever the answers might be to my rhetorical questions, I didn’t enjoy this. Yet again. The instrumentation was bland, the vocals are too much or downright bad, but the songs are the big issue for me. The songs aren’t good. Structures were boring, instrument choices were bad. Attempts at melody come off hackneyed and depths below The Beatles or even the Beach Boys of a similar era. For what we lost in an enjoyable musical experience, we gained in world famous rapper “Sticky Fingaz”, who had a prominent feature on Eminem’s track “Remember Me.” So that really is something. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: You Gotta Move, Bitch (Not a demand)

Jesus. Well. This could be a massive hit with me. Her vocals were always so cool to me and for whatever reason, even though it’s straight up pop, I feel this one could be in my wheelhouse?? Let me begin my diamond life. Take it away Sade. The entrance music for Alberta professional wrestling cologne model/big hoss Fabian Ribeiro brings us into the album. This feels like I’m in a waiting room, but it’s the waiting room for heaven. A deity dances out to the lobby and lifts me via cloud into my eternal bliss. It’s simply too good. The only issue is, I knew I’d like this one. Where will we go from here?? Staying with the super smooth. While the first operator boasted of his relative smoothness, it continues with the king of love or the love that would be king. Whatever. This is pretty decent. God. It’s so nice. I use the word “grating” a lot in my reviews, and in this one, I’ll be using “smooth” a lot. Not simply because of the mega hit lead off track, but because that is what this album is. It has a warm production quality, it’s a little stark and it’s not beating you over the head with pop sensibilities. It has a minimalistic charm. This song rules. Well. We can’t be perfect. I can’t place it, but I feel like there was a show or movie, where some voice sings what’s happening in the show. Did Seinfeld do that for a bit? Anyway, this was a miss. Uhhh a liveable wage anthem??? Oh. No. She says put the blame on no one else. Boooo. This is a “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” type beat. Lyrical equivalent to “uhh maybe if you make coffee at home, you’ll be able to climb out of the sewer we errr I mean you put yourself in.” Still. The music is decent. Getting back to smoothness. This is an excellent radio friendly pop song. Mellow, yet energetic. The lyrics aren’t painful. The instruments provide something and most of all, it’s not grating to the ear. Fantastic song. Debates will rage forever about who had the better “Cherry Pie” song. Was it it our noble Sade, or glam rock fellows, “Warrant”? You be the judge! (It’s Sade). Put your hands together for Sally everybody. A sex work positive slay? I have no idea man. I am not enough of a literary genius to dissect the abstract themes of applauding Sally for housing a heroin fiend father and potentially banging the fellow. Let’s all applaud Sadé. Get to the part about common law marriages. I want to hear about domestic bliss, not this organ solo. Ok there we go. I just had to yell about my love of cohabitation. Oh and also, no more war. No matter what colour. We are Sadé’s brothers. And isn’t that why we’re all here? New brothers. Sade/Sadé brought it big time. The opener rips and there are sparkling points throughout. A few clunkers here and there but for a pop album, this was a trance-like hand dance through the minimalistic fraternity of this Diamond life. Continue to operate smoothly Sade, and shine on you crazy diamond. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Smooth Operator, Hang on to Your Love, Cherry Pie

Ol Nick and I didn’t get off on the right foot. I’m hoping this gets me a little closer to discovering the man as the rest of the virgins of RYM have. The album cover is cool! Oh boy. Drunk Vegas Elvis is back. The lyrics are good! Everything else? From the dial tone backing track to the theatrical Disney villain delivery, I’m not in love. Oh Nick. Just let me like you. The true crime in this song is the lip smacking. Is this growing on me? It’s not terrible. Kind of enthralling in its odd way. The PJ Harvey vocals are a nice touch. The song started really strong but kind of faded. Don’t groan like that Nicholas. Mr. Cave, if you will. I won’t, but someone may. This song sucks. The blowing wind is just kind of too loud. Actually, the blowing wind isn’t the only thing blowing here. Haha. Nice. Kylie Minogue? No, don’t autocorrect to Kylie Minotaur. Why is she not performing a club slaydown??? Anyway. She is whispering a boring pseudo murder ballad next to cosplay Whole Foods Elvis. Next. Oh god. Punk moment. Followed by Polka. This is absolutely a Disney song. I can see millennials rallying around a Facebook post featuring this song superimposed over an animated character from their childhood. “Erm sir, you have just won le internet for today. Epic win.” I for one, do not think this is an “epic win” at all. It sounds like a truck commercial run through a Yosemite Sam AI song generator. Bad news all around. Alright. Slowing down a bit. Kind of shocking lyrically but it works here. I just. Ugh. I cannot handle his vocals. It elicits a high degree of cringe. Richard SLAY??? Oh. Slade. Boring. The background instruments bring to mind U2, which is an insult of the highest order. To say the woman crying was an UPGRADE to the sweeping 50s prom riff should tell you how I’m feeling about this. Oh my god. Cool standup bass? Jazz cymbal splashes? Aaaaand there’s the piano and vocals. This is blues for people who hate blues, jazz and indeed, themselves. Well. Two songs to go. Fitting we stop at a bar. That is normally where you’d see a bad Elvis impersonator. Yes. I’ve been to the Elvis well a few times, but you have to forgive me, this album doesn’t provide much in the way of left turns. Of course it’s 15 minutes. Sweet Jesus this is nothing. Oh good. Can you imagine sitting in the studio while this moron gyrates and mumbles over the close to this thing? Shut up. The ensemble track. Here we go. We are the world. We are the hipsters. Note. I do like Shane McGowan. Otherwise, this sounds like happy birthday sung to you in hell. We all should hope death is the end. Be honest. Is it because he looks weird? Is it his skull shape and the fact he wears suits? He’s not good. This is not good. Once again, the genius public have determined profundity based on appearance and personality rather than on musical output. Great job everybody. Each ballad here was indeed murdered, and their murderer? The eccentric weirdo who has pulled the proverbial wool over the eyes of millions of music dorks worldwide. Congrats Nick. You’ve produced another dead rabbit from your very tall hat and convinced the public it was an allegory for something rather than incompetence. No magic to found here. Just the bloated corpse of intrigue, bleeding out upon the tiles of mediocrity. 0.5-1 HIGHLIGHTS: Stagger Lee?

Mr and Mrs. Education. That’s all I got for this intro. Can’t all be winners. Let’s see if this album can break away from our foray into Nick’s horrid Cave yesterday. Oh buddy we’re rappin’ big time. Pretty good. I don’t need the melodic chorus. Unless it’s a sample, that often ruins rap for me. Good beat, fun flow, aggressive delivery, only hampered by a reliance on a lame chorus and overstaying its welcome. This song has a good beat. Good underlying rhythm, but man is this ever not for me. The overdone vocals are bleh. I can’t do the late 90’s/early 2000’s R & B sound. The breakdown close to halfway through the track saves it. Get out of that register. THEEEE JOOOOYYYYYYY. Not good. Not for me and also not good. I’m doublin’ down. Lots of leaving the G off today. I’m enough “G” for the whole review I suppose (I am not a G). I am however, a hater of rap interludes. These barely audible talking segments are death. That thing. This song is very popular, is it not? 514 million plays. Good lord. It’s fine. More rap, which I find works better. She has an excellent delivery, but I don’t care for the melodic aspects of this. “Hip hop started out in the heart and now everybody is trying to chart.” Proceeds to do a primordial Destiny’s Child song. While Alanis has a weak grasp of irony, I’m sure even she could pick this one up. Again, the rap portions are excellent. The rest is bunk. Here we go. The flute beat, the menacing delivery. HEEEEELLLLL YEAH. Finally. Israel?? Problematic. Palestine also mentioned. Way to go Lauryn. This thing rips. More bad R & B. It’s up there with reggae and vocal jazz for genres I can’t abide. It’s so reminiscent of the early 2000’s. It brings to mind big dumb skate shoes, baggy jeans and those music videos that look like they were shot on the inside of a cheese grater. Not MY nostalgia. Big thanks to Lauryn for breaking breakup songs down to their core essence. I used to love him, and now I don’t. Easy to follow although near impossible to sit through. This is starting to really drag. This song reminds me of trying to sleep with a stomach flu. So very tired, but being roused by constant pain and waves of nausea. Oh sweet Jesus. Was this song in Shark Tale? The phrase “not for me,” continues to bubble to my fingertips. We’re at a boil now. Man. More R & B eh? American Idol vocal runs accompanied by dumb snaps and a feature from the imperious D’Angelo. Isn’t that the guy from season 1 of the Wire? Well, based on this performance, I’m hoping I never hear anything ever again from this guy either. WHY IS THIS ALSO 6 MINUTES??? The phrase “masturbatory” might apply to much of this. Certainly fits like a glove on this terrible cut. Rap portions were good. Rest of the song sounds like the backing for an uplifting montage in a Lindsay Lohan movie. It’s time to shut it down. Let’s get out of here. Wrap it up. Lauryn is vocal running past the go home light. And we’ve arrived. That could have been shaved by 30 minutes. One album of songs and one album of outros and vocal runs for the real “sophisticated music listener.” I think some albums are released for the artist, and some are released to be well received. Consideration of audience is the death of art, and despite the personal title and the frequent third person referral, this album reeked of an outward cry for validation. I think the rapping was fantastic and filled with menace, purpose, and a deft touch, while the singing and features turn this thing into a bloated American Idol audition compilation tape. A little pitchy dawg and it’s a no from me. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: Final Hour

Cover? Bad. No shrek version of Hallelujah. That’s strike 2 Mr. Wainwright. If that is your real name. I think the title of “Mr. Wainwright” is probably taken by an off-duty oil man who drank the most Jell-O shots at some fly by night bar in the titular northern Alberta town. Stiff competition Rufus. Oh what a world. He omits the “wonderful.” Already a slap in the face of Louis Armstrong. Bold. I respect it. Also, it just dawned on me that ol’ Rufus is Canadian. Huge miss on my end. This music is actually pretty cool. Lush and grandiose. Like it’s bellowing through an empty church. Good atmosphere, but the vocals are not my favourite. That normally doesn’t play out well for the review. Noooooo. No. Nope. In the wise words of that one weird Italian (?) guy from that one “I Think You Should Leave” sketch; “Stinky.” Good lord. Boring and yet somehow also truly terrible. Only a vicious world could produce something this abhorrent. Alright. We’ve truly decided the direction we’re going into I suppose. The melodies continue to disappoint and the vocals continue to stay at the same annoying tone. Things are not going well for the Canadian here. Is it too late to disqualify him for being born in the USA?? I even checked Wikipedia. We all know about divorced dad rock, but have you heard of divorced mom rock? Rufus was making brave new strides in this still burgeoning genre. This was bloated and smelled like wine. I felt empty listening to it. Go or Go Ahead is a brief respite. A little bit more of the emotion I’m looking for. A better melody for starters. Some energy for finishers. It’s, by no means “good,” and it sounds a little bit like Coldplay not looking for radio play, but it provides more than the preceding march through songwriting purgatory. 8 more songs hey? What’s the opposite of Christmas miracle? A Yuletide tragedy? Maybe I’ll trademark that. Nobody beat me to it. Vibrate sounds like the rest of the songs so far. This is an adult Harry Potter enthusiast’s favourite song. Something so very millennial about it. Maybe I need to speak to a doctor. This is the most depressing album I’ve heard in months. Oh good. The same vocal tone again. Should’ve left this stupid vibrato on 14th street pal. Yes, I could’ve made that “joke” on the song “Vibrate,” but I was essentially catatonic listening to this fucking disaster. This song is like a pharmaceutically pacified psych ward patient attempting to sing in a hallmark commercial. Poor Natasha. Nobody deserves this kind of treatment. Bad song. Messy horns. And you guessed it, the same vocal tone. Back to the well. It sounds like he fell down a well and if that would end this, I’d be in favour. My hand would be stuck up in an affirmative vote. 11:11. Make a wish everybody. Shhh don’t tell me or it won’t come true. My wish won’t come true anyway, as I will be listening to the rest of this song and album. I guess the cat is out of the bag. I’m sure it wishes it could go back in the bag. I know I do. Fuck. Another wish down the tubes. How is this not the same song? Please end please end please end please and please end please end please end oh god it’s swelling. Good lord this was atrocious. There’s nothing to even grab onto and make fun of. It’s just the same boring song on repeat. Each track sucks the colour out of the room reaching through the listening device. Vitality vampirism aside, the lyrics weight speak to me and any cool sounds that occurred on the first song were ultimately betrayed in favour of the true intentions of the artist. Apparently those intentions were to exhaust the listener via a barrage of unlistenable songs with a monotone vocal that began to resemble drone music. If nothing else, bad albums are exciting creative outlets for me. “Want One” couldn’t even produce a canvas, let alone the paints in order to produce something of value from this steaming pile of low-budget Coldplay. 0-0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Oh What a World.

Complicated stuff coming up. On one hand, I think I’ll hate this, and on the other hand, I somehow think it’ll be better than I thought. A TON of radio tracks on the everytown alt rock station, so we’ll see how they hold up when not coming from the beleaguered speakers of my ‘08 Caravan. Sweet Jesus I hate the “hey batter batter” thing already. This band evokes a strong degree of second hand embarrassment. Cringe if you will. Regular readers of my reviews (nobody) can relate no doubt. This is the worst group of people in your city that have decided to form a band. But. This hook IS pretty good. Pretty cool funk rock. It really sounds like he’s saying the power of INequality. Which is much funnier. Anyway. Decent start. “If you have to ask” is a pretty fun “jam-funk” song. Did I just coin the whitest genre name ever? Probably. It’s fun, but wanky as it goes forever. SHEEEEEEE WAS A GIRRRRRLLL. His vocals were always going to be the obstacle here. That tonal quality is lacking in quality. Might turn on my keyboard clacks to drown this one out. Departure from funk in favour of 60’s folk hoots underneath the caterwauling of the human embodiment of chlamydia. Massive lowlight. Funky Monks sounds like the theme song for a Mike Judge cartoon that never made air sung as a military call and response march. Do with that what you will. Good outro at least. Ohhh buddy. We’re getting a big hit. Anything beats these lyrics to be fair. BUT the main riff is seriously great and the bass is earth rattling. Flea’s Fracking Concern™️ Good god. Love this song. The ballad. Man. It sounds almost exactly like “Picnic of Love,” by insane Noise/Grindcore outfit AxCx. Writing reviews is dumb. Well the slinky song stinks. Too many sex lyrics. From a gross group o’ fellas. Ah Jesus I don’t like the War and Peace one either. In the wise re-writing of The Simpsons “See what I’d like, is I’d like to hug and kiss ya.” Get Krusty in here. I’m sure you could get AI to do that. We truly live in hell. Although if I was the same age in 1991 as I am now, maybe seeing 4-5 20 something drug addicts from California be given this musical platform wouldve given me the same view of Dystopia. This song is fine, although the goofy “boinging” noise is pretty repulsive. Oh boy. The title track. I like how the cover includes the words as combined entities. Chili Sex being the highlight of these combos. Anyway. It’s worth mentioning that this cover looks like what would happen if you imagined and combined each of the elements of a deadbeat dad in 2005. Right down to the haircuts. Goofy comparisons aside, this song is not too shabby. Speaking of deadbeat dads. I feel like this has blasted through more than one 2000 Pontiac Sunfire en route to a divorce hearing. 1.5 billion plays. I’ve never been, but I hate the concept of the west coast. The heat, the people, the apparent lack of rules and structure. It sounds like a hellscape. A song that is this popular and essentially a platform for the least talented member of this band to wax poetic about Los Angeles is not for me. It would be MUCH cooler if it were about trolls asking riddles. The bass solo pal. Hell yeah. As hard as Flea is to look at and imagine as a person to actually speak to, buddy can play a bass. This song sucks. More gratuitous yet nonsensical sex lyrics. Reads like it was written by a kid who was held back a couple grades bragging to his much younger classmates about an intimate encounter that never occurred. The riff is almost suicidal tendencies, but as usual, the vocals are giving me suicidal thoughts. Boring. Funk again, but nothing of any distinctive flavour. Hooo until that bass break.damn. Flea really is the glue here. An 8 minute song about an insane Bootsy Collins soundalike called “Sir Psycho Sexy??????” With a god damn E40 bass line?? I’m listening. The lyrics are atrocious BUT with this dumb character, it almost works. This leans more into the unintentional cringe that occurs throughout this thing. Am I inventing scenarios to make this song palatable? Possibly. Either way. I laughed, it’s funky. A good bad song. I don’t know if they’re red hot, but I can say this was a fun outro. I didn’t know what to expect coming into this and I leave just as confused. The output from Flea, the Will Ferrell drummer fella, the bad, drugged up poet and of course, the other guy; was in part funk hero worship, and in many other parts, juvenile diary entry. What those two things equal? I still don’t really know. I had a good time, I had a bad time, and when it’s all said and done, the Red Hot chilli peppers produce music that makes an inconsistent impact. Half of the listening plane is covered with smoking craters, opened up by funk artillery, and the other half is littered with wadded up sheets of paper from Anthony Keidis’ sex therapist’s notepad. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: The Power of Equality, Suck my Kiss, Blood Sugar Sex Magick, The Greeting Song (sans vocals), Sir Psycho Sexy

Take it to the notes app. Because yesterday was a “blur” we’re reviewing this 1997 britpop excursion in another application. Will that help the typos? I hope so. It’s unbearable for anybody to read. Anyway, bring in Song 1. And then of course, song 2. Heavier Oasis? That was my hope anyway. If you’ve only heard “Song 2,” you’d be quite surprised by this opener. Count me in that group. This song is kind of boring, honestly. This feels like a track you’d hear in the waning moments of an album. Song 2 is just good. The heavy guitar, the vocals have drive and energy, and the overall distortion provides a chaotic and vibrant atmosphere. Close to a billion plays (probably at least 100,000 with me in the general vicinity), but with an attempt at fresh ears, this one goes pretty hard. Funny song title. Weird vocals. Incredibly cool instrumentation. I really like this one. And back down to earth. This sounds like a cut track from Disney Skate Adventure. 1 or 2. Was there more than one? Whatever. Next. The instrumental oddities have returned which I like, but the melody isn’t working for me. The song overall is just somehow not good. The theme from retro makes me pine for the days before personal audio allowed me to listen to this. A little bit nicer here now. I wouldn’t say that you’re so great, it the buried vocals and the return of distortion make for a nice little song. Not great in the end. Ugh. I don’t know man. Ooh the death of a party is a good proposition. Time to go home. Not be at a party. Hang yourself. Excellent idea of an evening. This isn’t a cry for help. That was a lyric. Whatever man. If you’re reading THIS deep, you’re either me or you need some sort of medical intervention. I think I’m starting to need some medical intervention. Another slog through the doldrums. Ohhh boy. Upbeat, punk-ish. Almost an interlude type song, but a burst of vigor. Super cool start. Tapers off as it goes on but dman near jolted me out of my seat to kick off. Last two songs have been an increase. Ahh this feels like a bizarro version of a song I’d love. It’s fine, but it has many of the elements I search for. It sounds like a criticism of America AND it has indie folk-ish tendencies. In the end, it doesn’t have enough heart to be truly great. Pink Floyd has begun drafting a Cease and Desist. Why now? You may ask, and that is a good question considering this album is 27 years old and they’ve had ample time. It was all about getting the right lawyer. Took years. Finally, in this review, I have broken the news that Pink Floyd is suing Blur, for sounding exactly the same as Dark Side of the Moon. That’s why you stick around in these bad boys. Next song please. Movin’ On started hot, tapered off. Ugh. I’m so bored. Essex Dogs is an odd, cool closer. Really liked this one. This album reminds me of hearing a conversation through a wall. You hear sounds that resemble words but you don’t know what they’re trying to say. This has the general ethereal shape of an exciting indie album while not fully ever forming into a cohesive statement. While the shape of it did spark my imagination, I found myself wishing for that imagined album rather than engaging with what “Blur” actually delivers. I appreciate the effort, but Blur sort of lived up to their name and went by in a blur with nothing to drag me out of the trance. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Song 2, Country Sad Ballad Man, Chinese Bombs, Essex Dogs

Why? An hour of late era Madonna. Listen. I’m less than 100 albums into this thing, but I can imagine there won’t be any death metal, minimal thrash metal and very few interesting oddities. Hell, even jazz has been elusive and I thought this list would be rife with new jazz discoveries. I’m already mad at this album. I haven’t heard it and I believe this shouldn’t be here. My initial belief is that there are 1000 albums released IN THE PAST 10 YEARS that surpass the value of this, but only Madonna can prove me wrong. Now that my biases are on full display. Take it away, artist past her glory. She’s in her Julie Andrew’s era. That’s probably the gayest thing I’ve ever said. This is Microsoft headquarters elevator music in 1999. Is it too late to request a substitute for this album? I don’t know what to say. When an album is trying to be this understated, there is nothing to review. People get so wrapped up in making music that is so gentle and so palatable, that they forget to prepare something to fucking listen to. This is nothing. Hell yeah brother. Attach the laser beams to my roller skates pal, I’m putting down my orange pop and rippin’ out on the rink. I then fall in a heap and am trampled by 350 middle schoolers on an activity field trip. I am rushed to the hospital with a suspected concussion and broken clavicle. That’s how this song FEELS. I asked for SOMETHING in the previous track review. This is something, alright. This is a complete atrocity. War crime. Inoffensive water based cell phone ring tone underneath an ex pop star on quaaludes. Lyrics written with a cynical sneer by some moron writer who churned out 200 plus pop tunes that year. Oh buddy. Commence the club banger. This would be playing in the club in a movie funded by Madonna and John Travolta. It’s actually not the worst song but in a completely ironic way. Pretty funny. Does anything matter? Madonna certainly seems to think nothing does. Why oh why did she continue this pursuit then? The worst so far. MAKE IT STOP. As we enter the “middle aged white lady has spiritual awakening” portion of this album, I just want to remind all white people that while you may think your own culture is “boring” or “uncool,” it doesn’t mean you get to latch yourself to someone else’s. Develop a personality and while cultural appreciation and self-education should be encouraged, whatever this is truly fucking sucks. Back to Michigan, faded pop diva. We’ve recovered from our mid-life crisis to return to our mid-album crisis. Frozen. Uhhh. Something about the movie, uhhhh errrr uhhh fuck. How about just BADonna. Saved it. The power of good-bye is truly the greatest of powers. Imagine saying goodbye to this piece of trash album? I can picture it like I’m walking into an idyllic cloud kingdom. God how I pine for that future. Hold music for a suicide hotline. They had to change it out as it decreased call volume for the wrong reasons. I thought it was over. Two songs. That’s it. I can do it. Fuck I almost forgot how to dream. Thanks Madonna. I owe you one. I’ll repay it now, with a tip: retire. Quit. You’ll make more in a month than I’ll make in a decade off of Spotify royalties alone. Travel the world. Hug your loved ones. Burn your albums. Just stop perpetuating this. Let’s get a song about a monstrous lab creation where a girl is turned into an aquatic beast!! A “MerGirl” if you will. This will be cool right? Oh. It’s a whisper pop song belched out by an aged former star with a whiff of spiritual nonsense that ultimately goes nowhere and provides nothing? Who could’ve seen that coming? Nerds love this album. Maybe it’s not me who hates music. This album is a collection of near silent, yet not silent enough pseudo songs. It’s gruel. It is flavourless sustenance for people to ignore in waiting rooms, car dealerships and bad movies. Just there to coat the walls like slimy, outdated wallpaper without any sense of kitsch or whimsy. Oddly racist club tracks in amongst a sea of washed out nothingness. An attempt at producing oceanic atmosphere ends up the waterlogged corpse of a career that while never musically capable was at least somewhat alive. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: smoke billowing from the eyes of a cursed token. Gods consume the dying seconds of each passing hour. Floating heavenward adrift in purgatorial anguish, the steam rises from an endless ocean. Searing the once faithful few as their loyal vessels melt into the endless expanse of human suffering. Penance is paid.

“Chirping.” Golly gosh mister, these crickets really do chirp don’t they? At least they knew not to make 2 hour albums back then. Also, big update, the men on this cover are all under 22 years old from what I researched. This looks like a reunion of the fathers at a wedding party. Is this a gay love song? “Oh boy, the world can see, you were meant for me.” Progressive 50s slay. Repetitive and a little silly but it was fun. Not fade away had to be in Mafia II. Great game. Anyway. This song pops pretty hard. Jumps out at you, but runs out of ideas after a minute or so. A little uhh “forceful” with his “love” too. This guy is pining for some love, man. Another fine little love song. Not great though. Fine as in mediocre. Man, another one just fades by. It’s not keeping me and the lyrics are too same-y. Weak men cry eh? Well while that archaic belief may be forgiven, this song is better than the last few. A little bid more sad. A little more stark. Good one. “Tell me how” these are different songs. They’re the same. Oh god this one is so good. Rips. The big hit but it’s damn near perfect. Catchy, mournful, confident. I’m just listing RYM tags now. Whatever. Beauty of a song. Another fine song. Holy hell you were an hour late for a date and she left with another guy???? Man. You were an asshole, but I think you dodged a bullet here, brother. The crickets are back here sounding like Migos with the call and response ad libs. Pretty catchy one. Not bad. BAH BAH BAH BAH BAH BAH BAH BAH BAH. That was fun. Call me the 4th cricket pal. Nobody is going to call me “the fourth cricket.” That’s the real tragedy here. Last night. A pretty sweet love song. This one stands out as one of the better songs here to me. The boys are hitting the “BAH BAH BAHs” super hard, and Buddy is once again singing about love and crying. The formula works. The operatic church lady vocals finish off what was considered a pop song. Wild. A pretty lame Elvis style closer. Not my speed. In and out in 25 minutes. Hell yeah. Good work fellas. Leaves me time to go listen to Buddy Holly by Weezer. The true aficionado’s pick for Buddy Holly based music. Buddy Holly and the crickets did indeed chirp, and while a lot of this was teeny bopper silliness, there were some excellent songs in here delivered by a charismatic and interesting vocalist with a capable backing band. I smiled for much of it, mostly hearing how quaint the pop music of the day was, but it did deliver punch when it counted. The band may look like children who have worry lines over a pending divorce settlement but hey, the 50s were tough on everybody I suppose. The music, however? Not too shabby. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: It’s Too Late, That’ll be the Day, Last Night

Oh yeah buddy. I’m about to parachute into ‘Nam. Other than the spectre of sending poor kids to die in the name of fighting *checks notes* communism. Are we sure Vietnam didn’t have any oil? Anyway. Pretty stoked to check out CCR and the fellas. YES. This song rules. It’s in my regular rotation. It’s cool, and not over the top. Jeez I hope this song isn’t about the green river killer though. Sort of makes my celebration during it seem a bit morbid. Another one that is in my “liked” songs. A big ol Commotion. I mean I can’t criticize this, but this was just fine. The country fried ballad. This one sounds like the ending to an Adam Sandler movie somehow. Not for me. ALERT 🚨 CLASSIC inbound. I mean this song is great. What can you say?? I mean that is my job technically. Uhhh more like “good song rising.” Good god. More slow, ballad type beats. Uhh man these are starting to melt together. This review is truly awful today. I suppose the album isn’t gripping me the way I thought it might. A pretty run of the mill song. I guess I could say that about many of these so far. Sinister purpose is pretty decent. The wailing guitars throughout are good. They break up some of the monotony of this one. The white guy blues is usually a big X thrown up, family feud style, but this is rad as hell. Almost psychedelic in spots. Never thought I’d enjoy a white guy blues song. This is a calling/beach song that is played silently from a jeep while you swat away mosquitos. NOT my style. Glory Be? My like Glorified Outro. This thing has some fantastic songs spurred on by an extremely powerful vocalist; however, there is a lot more roll than rock here. Laid back to a fault, CCR produced moments of brilliance on “Green River,” only to be mired in the jungle-esque muck of some mediocre songs. There were diamonds, but there was certainly some rough. This schizophrenic combo of fantastic tracks and throwaway jam tunes make this one a listenable experience that doesn’t reach the heights I had hoped for. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Green River, Commotion, Bad Moon Rising, The Night Time is the Right Time

Ahhh country. I love folk music, but typically when I say that, I’m referring to more traditional folk music. Celtic dirges and maritime shanties seem to be in my wheelhouse. I forget often that country is folk music in a way. The term “country” conjures up images of now Christian high school bullies who bought cowboy hats to star in musical truck commercials. There is a world beneath the shiny beer-soaked garbage peddled to the lowest common denominator. When country was pop in the 60’s, it was great. So with that preamble out of the way, let’s hear Ray take on this complicated titan of music. Uhhh. Ok? Oh Jesus. This song turned into that fucking dentures commercial. That’s completely insane. Firstly, that a dentures commercial from AT LEAST 15 years ago is ingrained in my head, and secondly, that it existed at all. Is there nothing money can’t taint? Alright. Let’s get out of the big band dentures fiasco and into a ballad. I really bugged up country for almost no country sounds to exist. Thanks Ray. Decent ballad. Nothing that will spur me to begin to pen letters homeward. Bah, this one is pretty cool. Very “of the time” and ZERO country to be found, but this is a good one. I hate this song so much it hurts. Oh hell yeah. Getting all upbeat. Snapping along on a piano with an undone bowtie. Horrific visual. Not for me. This ballad sounds like it’s quietly played in the main room of nursing homes between magic shows while three or four elderly residents lightly sleep. Did we hear this one? This is getting weak. Come on Ray. Pick it up. I feel like it’s either lame big band, or the same ballad. Oh look, big band AND the same ballad. ANOTHER ONE. Stop. Everybody say Love. Don’t steal RuPaul lines from 40 years in the past. This is where this gets complicated. I loved this song coming into this album. I still really enjoy the song, but surrounded by 10 songs that essentially sound the exact same, it loses its lustre. At least this one has some country? A little? Meh. Fine one. Not the worst. This album is a little bit like Meat Loaf putting that sick ass album cover on Bat out of Hell, only to release a bunch of plodding ballads with the consistency of the artist’s nom de plume. What about this was country? It’s overly smooth big band in many sections and half asleep ballads with 1962’s answer to AI generated lyrics. I think if I heard each song individually, I’d think “oh this is nice,” as I believed with “I Can’t Stop Loving You.” Nice is a good thing, but as an album experience, this is a complete snoozer. The same song on repeat for what felt like an eternity. That song isn’t bad but 11 times makes me feel similar to how the stampede brand of low IQ country makes me feel. Woozy and a strange hankering for a pair of Wranglers, an ice cold light beer and maybe some denture paste. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: Half as Much, I Can’t Stop Loving You

World’s most serious man competition winner 1967. And it was tough sledding back then. You had nothing but serious fellas. Look at this guy though. Depressed? Check. Looks to be disgruntled? Check. Stressed about a multitude of things?? Check again. Whether you incorrectly call him Leonard Nimoy or you just call him the guy that wrote the second most famous shrek song, I call him, a friend. Let’s get on with it you zany old Canadian. Welp. I mean I knew that this would be the general tone. The lyrics are interesting if not a little cringeworthy at times. This does feel LIGHTYEARS ahead of its time. Really in its own world, which earns some points, but the melody isn’t slaying me. The melodies are not meshing just yet. Two odd, rudimentary song structures that don’t fully appeal, BUT this song is still pretty cool. The lyrics are worth a second pass which this will probably get, and the odd instrumental makes this song a good experience overall. I am keen to see if we get some songs that can keep up with the poetry and atmosphere. Winter Lady probably takes the best swing at what could be considered a conventional song. Short and sweet. Pretty song. More spoken word, which typically may irk me, it the instruments are varied and bare. They create an excellent atmosphere and a backing for the stark poetics of the Canadian eccentric. Is “poetics” a word? I like it, either way. I’m just a Joseph looking for a manger pal. This album is super cool so far. Another interesting song. Mouth clicks forgiven. I absolve you Lenny. Drink some water though. While kinda cool, I don’t know how I feel about the circus instrumental break. This one is not as much for me. Not bad by any means, but not as gripping. Is fatigue setting in? Is my feeble brain struggling against the weight of poetry?? I suppose we’ll never know. Suzanne??? Marianne?? Lenny is plowing through these Anne based names. The lively female backing vocals are nice here. Create a very folk feel and add a ton of energy. A little “godfather in Italy” near the end, but not a bad track. Pretty enjoyable actually. Hmm. This has to be the same as another song we’ve heard. A rare lowlight. Stench Town USA. I trust Lenny Co more than anybody to regale me with tales of the street. Buddy has been up and down the blocks and posts up regular on corners from the mean streets of Ottawa to the tumultuous avenues of Mississauga. This song is fine. “One hand on a hexagram, one hand on a girl.” Math teachers are flooding to MySpace to post that lyric. This one is kind of frantic. Interesting, but again, we struggle a little bit from bad melody syndrome. Not terrible. A little same-y once again. He doesn’t have much variation in range. The shrieking outro is pretty interesting. Well Leonard. You did it again. With what is essentially a spoken word album, sometimes the music can take a backseat. The bare guitars along with Cohen’s soulful vocal delivery create an enjoyable musical experience in amongst the poetry slam. While not resonating with every line, the poetry is intriguing and worth revisiting while the music takes me along for the ride. The songs themselves range from excellent to middling and some repetition lets down what is a super cool listen that feels fresh to this day. Combine these lyrics and atmosphere with a better songwriter and you’ve got yourself a classic. The songs of Leonard Cohen delivers in the end despite its shortcomings. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Master Song, Winter Lady, The Stranger Song

I wanted some new wave. I think there will be parts of it I like. I’ve heard some good stuff, but I rarely spend personal time listening to it. Not loving the vocals BUT the synth riff and electronic percussion is going pretty hard. Nice and dark. Drags a little too long which is my worry for this whole thing. I will give it a chance though. Decent song, albeit too long. Heavy bass. That’s sick. Oh no. The thug in me??? This sounds like a Disney song. Yeah this is a villain intro number. Ugh. Too long again and the vocals/lyrics are bad. Personal Jesus buddy. Good song already. Very popular, but I always liked the punk-ish energy this one provides. Very energetic in places with odd lyrical content. Anything that verges on the sacrilegious appeals to my dorky edgelord soul. Very good. Get E40 on the Halo beat, pronto. Right off of “In a Major Way.” This song is complicated as I really enjoyed it to start, but the increased presence of vocals turn this one towards the sewer. Eh. Not for me. Barebones in a boring way, and the vocals increase in their level of obnoxiousness. Too melancholy for me and not in a likeable or relateable way. The worst song by a mile thus far. Enjoy the silence. I mean hey, if you insist. Good French death metal album called “Enjoy the Violence,” so hopefully it’s similar. It is MUCH funkier. Fading FAST. I hate this. Better. A little bit more pop. I mean excitement, not the genre. Yeah this one has a drive that carries it through. The monotone vocals work better when they’re further back into the mix. Get that bass lunch up here. Good work. Boring. Long. Bad. Long again. Let’s wrap this up. The odd ending is a bright spot. Please end this. This is insufferable. There were some good songs, but this album felt like a pretentious goth guy showing you his apartment and somehow belittling you with every drawn out explanation. I liked the two that I did quite a bit, but a bunch of dumb lyrics droned out over music that seems like it would appeal to Dave Navarro exclusively made me feel nauseous and propels me that little bit further towards the conclusion that I do indeed hate music. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: Personal Jesus, Policy of Truth

Oooook??? I truly believed this was random, so for this to land on Christmas Day, I can now confirm I’m being intentionally tortured by the powers that be, with Nick Cave and Aguilera within a 7 day span. While I ponder the cruelty of the choices made thus far, let’s give this a spin. Darlene Love kicks off this various artist fest. I’ve heard far better performances of this song. It’s fine. Classic song. Lacking a little bit of the warmth I seek in Christmas music. Alright. I should’ve known. Another mid performance of an admittedly mid Christmas jingle. This sounds like an SNL sketch. The heavy accent on “Frawsty” makes me feel like I’m in a Christmas episode of the Sopranos. Bob B. Soxx makes his much awaited debut. I wonder if he’s friends with Al E. Gator, or Al B. Tross? This isn’t a song I’ve heard. Can see why it doesn’t appear on the department store playlist loop. Lifeless. Jimmy? Listen bud. You need to hear about this Santa cat. Mail that letter or you’re getting JACK SHIT for Christmas. Anyway. The name “Jimmy” has genuinely entertained me more than this bleh rendition of another Christmas classic. Finally. A known version which is bright, fun, warm and everything you’d need for a Christmas song. The Ronettes redeem their foray into bad snowman music with a capable carol worthy of entry into the canon. This was always the worst Christmas song. Well. This and Little Drummer Boy. Too much rum pum pumming. This is too much sugar talk. Can’t all be winners. Another one. I never got this one and I’m literally the dumbest man alive. I thought it was a cheating song about the literal fictional character Santa Claus. But it just means dad in a Santa hat. Anyway. Never my favourite, and another bad version. Hooray. What is this noise rock version of Rudolph? Also, why are all Christmas characters German? I thought we won. Anyway. This version SUCKS. I have a confession. It is I who is the fabled “Parson Brown.” My promotion to Parson is still highly contentious in the Parsonage community and my rise to fame through the song, “Winter Wonderland,” has only exacerbated tensions. It is my dearest hope that through enough versions of this song, my name is cleared and I am free to return to my duties as a Parson, whatever the hell those may be. I’m shocked this wartime horn jaunt hasn’t entered the Christmas canon (I’m not) (it’s terrible). I never liked this one either! Wow. I’m pretty picky about this whole Christmas thing. Bad. Bob B. Soxx is the all time worst Christmas vocalist. Obvious friend of Phil OR a terrible pseudonym. Rancid. NOOOOO. Phil. Don’t speak. I have some feelings about the album “to which I just listened.” Are we really doing a credits sequence over the instrumental of Silent Night? Two thumbs down. Considering what I’ve just found out about Phil, this is horrifying. Don’t shoot me ya psycho. Do you know how much good Christmas music there is? There’s a god damn treasure trove of it. The 40’s and 50’s were a golden age for it. Do any of these classic performances appear on Phil Spector’s supposed “Gift for You?” Not really. If the gift is to introduce you to worse versions of excellent songs, then Merry Fucking Christmas, send Phil a post mortem thank you card. Maybe some of these ARE the originals, to which I say, they were HEAVILY improved upon. I didn’t even know who Phil was, but it seems like he got to a variety show late and had to pick all the acts that weren’t picked by others. Makes me want to exclusively say “happy non-denominational holiday season,” just to stick it to the boomers. Also. Would probably rather be visited by the horrifying spectres that haunted Scrooge, than the Spector that appeared in my stocking this year. Bah, Humbug. 1-1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Sleigh Ride

I have enjoyed a blissful near three week run away from this list. While I missed music slightly, I was touring the “mystical orient” with a loved one and the pang of capsule machines and smooth jazz that accompanied my failed record hunting kept me plenty angry at music. We left this list in a bad place. Writing harried reviews in a departure lounge while learning about Phil Spector was about all I could take. We start today with the Doors, a band for whom some intrigue still exists in the planes between my ears. For the purpose of full transparency this review and hopefully a few others will be conducted from the sky. This song is so intrinsically tied with a TV commercial for Tony Hawk’s Underground that I can never hate it on principle. First video game I had to get my hands on. Mainly due to some weirdo doing the worm on a skateboard to the dulcet tones of “Break on Through”. Even without that palpable nostalgia, the insane vocals, the frantic organ and the overall urgency of this song take me right back to being a frenzied eight year old needing the sweet sweet ability to hit breakdance moves on a virtual skateboard. The soul kitchen makes an appearance as I continue to sit on the runway. No skies for me. I’m not sure if this is benefitting from weeks of musical abstinence, but this is hitting just right. Feels like it needs to be heard. Funky, driving, lyrics that rule and above all a sound that’s actually COOL. This is the Rolling Stones if they were good. Hmm, perhaps a serial killer diary entry? This is fine. I hate that we’re going back to the “this is fine” well so soon. Twentieth Century Fox eh? Is that a double meaning!?!?! SHE’S a 20th Century Fox. Huh?? Whoa there buddy. This feels more like the Rolling Stones. If only they could reference the sexuality of a minor, this would really get Keith Richards goin’. Decent track. I won’t ask why, but I assume Jim is going to the Whiskey Bar to drink alcohol. I feel like he was known for that. This is a Russian Polka fever dream. I kind of like it. Well. The little girl section sucks. Whenever that trope got retired from music was a good day. Just say girl. Woman is even better. Little girl? Unless you’re rescuing her cat from a tree, don’t mention her. A big hit now. The worse of the two big hits in my opinion. 7 minutes too?? Maybe I’ll takeoff after this song. Or during. We’ve lurched into motion. The background organ and percussion goes pretty hard, but the repetition drone of this chorus is not for me. I’m glad most of the song happens away from that chorus to be fair. Ends up being a pretty cool extended jam/solo. I feel like a whole bunch of bands tried to sound like this after the fact, but for an album that is 58 years of age, this thing rips. He eats more chicken than any man has ever seen. I mean. That’s a five star lyric pal. No bones about it. Principal Skinner and Mrs. Krabappel were making babies and then the baby looked at me. Other than slightly reminding me of a Simpson quote (that applies to most things), this was a song that was just there. End of the Night, but not album. Which is fine! Wow. What a relief to not be begging for the end of this album. The song was alright. Not my favourite, but the vocals are really cool. Decent song. I like the lyrics and the energy is once again, excellent. Is this the opening to Creed’s My Sacrifice? I assume they stole it somehow. My ears are prepared for Scott Stapp. Oh no. It’s another classic. Jesus what a song to have blaring in my ears as I watch the Japanese countryside fade into the black of night beneath me. I of course hope this isn’t indeed the end so I can review my next album from *checks botes* DAVID BOWIE. Ugh. Well. Silver linings. This song was cool. Very cool. Could almost fit on an oddball 90’s indie album. I don’t know who is playing the organ or writing the lyrics but give both of those bastards a standing ovation along with Mr. Morrison. If there is any overlap in duties with the insane yet grounded in soul, lead singer, give him a second one as he deserves one for each role. This album was fascinating. It drove forward with relentless speed and a devil may care attitude. Very proto-punk in its delivery. While I completely abhor and detest and any other thesaurus entry for hate the way that we as a society revere mental cases and fetishize mental illness, this particular sicko may have been on to something. This album is not concerned with creating the greatest songs ever written, but it is absolutely crazy in a wonderful way and rides that wackiness to an excellent group of tracks. 3.5-4 HIGHLIGHTS: Break on Through (To the Other Side), Soul Kitchen, Back Door Man, The End

David Bowie is starting to feel like a comedy figure. While Nick Cave has brought nothing but boredom thus far, the other mainstay in this increasingly predictable list at least tries to mix it up. It usually produces the effect of mixing Valium and Alcohol, but at least it’s a mix. I don’t have google up here so I don’t know if that’s how he died. It wasn’t meant to be that deep a shot. Anyway. Onward from the sky. Oh he’s doing Elton John. Not that way you FREAK. Listen to me talking to my imaginary readers. I wish I was better informed. What is it called when those horns are in the background and always sound that exact same way? It’s almost a sample for 90’s edutainment video outros. This is a big time whatever but not producing the type of vitriol I normally feel at this time in a David Bowie “experience.” Still bad. Ok everybody allow me to introduce your performer this evening. You may remember him from LAST Tuesday’s performance at this very downtown Winnipeg Piano Bar. He’ll be wearing Sting makeup this week and drinks are 2 for 1. David Bowie! Read that over the opening strains of Aladdin Sane. He sucks. He can’t sing and the songs stink, so very often. Eh the insane piano chords over the discordant horns kind of work for me actually. Fuck. Maybe I am being entertained in sunny downtown Winnipeg. I suppose many of the street residents there may produce sounds like this if offered a piano. He still can’t sing, but fuck me if that wasn’t a cool oddity. I hate myself. I thought Saturdays were alright for fighting??? Not Drive-Ins. Unless they’re watching the big Inoki-Ali fight. That could be at a drive-in. Anyway. He really should never sing. We have returned to the horrid stench of David’s vocalizing. It doesn’t seem intentionally bad or bizarre. Just bad. Alright. Wrap it up Dave. Let’s go home brother. A guy called Brian has a garage band that he started after his divorce in Davenport, Iowa. This is actually their cover. It made it onto Spotify. It’s that sloppy to my ear. This is meat and potatoes rock where the meat is tofu and the potatoes are a piece of paper smudged with potato saying “IOU - DB”. Is that a guitar? At this hour? Oh my god this riff sounds elderly. The actual riff sounds like it’s creaking to life after years of dormancy. Which I can’t say I hate. The rest of this? Guess what? Sucks. Never say “Suck baby Suck” ever again. I never want to hear those words in that order ever again. In my life. Time keeps on ticking here. David gets his theatre moment. Ope. We almost got up to a point of intrigue but we had to dial back so we could hear Big Dave really belt this one out. I think because theatre music is so truly terrible, if this occurred during a play, I’d think it was my favourite song of the play, however “my favourite song of the play,” means the worst song on most albums. TWO extended La La La sections crooned by history’s most evil man make for a hellscape I wasn’t prepared for. The only thing picking this song up for me, is laughing at the thought of somebody sending this song to their potential love interest. Hearing this ghoulish twink croon “you’re my prettiest star,” over the backing music for “The Monster Mash,” would send anybody into hysterics, laughing OR screaming. Now that I’ve called you my prettiest star, let’s spend the night together. But first, allow me to play you a song from the jukebox in this space diner. It’s the cheapest one, as I’m light on change. Look into my eyes as we eat soggy onion rings and you try to remember the bus route home. The weird schizophrenic outro was a little cool, but it returned to stenchtown before I could really appreciate the strange turn. Oh buddy. The rattlers are out. Hell yeah pal. Bowie’s got his jeans on and those boots are kicking up dust. This sounds like he is dancing in a bar with the help of wires in a marionette western. He occurs to me as a frail cyborg. We did not need to excursion to the swamp/desert here. No denim based withes were granted by the Jean Genie. Fuck. He keeps trying to sing hey? Well we’re coming to our final station to station aren’t we. Have I already used that joke? Whatever. Not everybody should make music. That’s what David reinforces in me. Holy shit there is going to be like 15 Bowie albums on this list isn’t there? I can see at least 4 covers I recognize in the “related” section of this stinker. Ugh. A least I get one of my reprieves following Aladdin Sane. The title track itself was so weird that I genuinely liked it. I thought to myself “maybe we’ve finally reached weird Bowie.” I was almost perversely intrigued by what would happen. The rest seemed like a sketch from an avant-garde comedian. Is that even a thing one can be? Like when SCTV did full movie parodies with no laugh track. It felt like it had comedic elements, but I also never laughed. I really didn’t cry either. I just wasted about 41 minutes of a flight around the world in order to listen to another trek through mediocrity with Mr. overrated himself, the great spaceman, D-Bow. See you next time, ya bum. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: Aladdin Sane

Is this the first rap album we’ve heard that doesn’t have fucking common on it?? I really think it is. That’s an insane statistic. Ah wait we heard Snoop Dogg. Well. I still like that Common isn’t involved. This is oooold too. Pretty excited to hear the corn, the cheese and potentially some excellent production/beats. Sky review part III The bells have been rocked. The bass is excellent, the rhymes are fun if not a little silly and this song starts us off strong. Not bad. Two highly nostalgic video game songs in three reviews???? YO YO YO THIS IS RAHZELL AND WELCOME TO GARIBALDHI BIG. Does he say big? Whatever man. DO AN ÜBER TRICK. SSX Tricky rules and so does this song. Rocking a rhyme is not that easy buddy. About time you figured this out. Gold. And to this day, whenever a New Yorker sees tinted windows, they spring to their feet knowing “Daryl” of Run-DMC is in the backseat of that Subaru Forester. The best commercial I’ve heard today. The energy keeps rolling. It’s super corny, but the beats continue to hit very hard and the conviction is there, even when rapping about your homeboy having 50 pairs of sneakers. Excellent transition. Did this song bring real hip hop to the mainstream? Or was it the Sugarhill gang song?“RAPture” does not count (sorry Blondie). There have already been a few guitars on this album and what’s a few more. Loved this version of the song as a little fella and it still rocks pretty hard. Man I’m so mainstream. At least this song about high school girls is from the perspective of a high school boy. It ain’t the 60’s anymore. Run-DMC killed 4 people?? I mean that surprises me. They tout being drug free and not thieves, but I suppose they can “knuckle down” and commit some form of manslaughter. And that’s not “man’s laughter” for all you wordplay heads out there. The altitude and the exact same flow is getting to me slightly. Hopefully the lot optometry bars we hear this flight. I hate when old rap does this. Just making outlandish things up in order to arrive at the word you want to rhyme. I like the stripped back beat yet again, but “I’ve got a dog, cat, a mouse, a rat” needs to be edited out of this song to this day. 39 years, I don’t care. Get it outta here. Yeah we’re very same-y now. The very breathy beatboxing brings to mind a certain freak and if he truly is on a leash. I like this one. I shouldn’t, but the riff is pretty sweet. Much like Trooper’s Iconic request, Run-DMC seems obliged to raise more than a little hell. The lyrics are more menacing seemingly and seem to have a point. Well. Some of the time. I don’t know what rocking up on the mic to the right and rocking all night having common, but hey, it was the 80’s. Is this a KFC ad? That Big Mac line was so fucking dumb that I laughed. God dammit. DINNER, YOU ATE IT. What is happening? Gold. The word dumb has been thrown around a lot in my head during this review. Maybe it hasn’t graced the type surface enough but man so many of the rhymes are dumb, and this song is pretty dumb too. Freak on a Leash type beat once again. Nice Korn-based interlude A serious song?? They said it right in the bloody intro. Proud to be Black. Kind of a cool song to end a whirlwind of an album. Kind of high and mighty as a few of the lyrics come across here but this is easily the best message so far. The commitment to this album is impressive. As silly as much of it sounds now, the fire was there from the first track until the close. How this group could muster that energy in order to discuss the seemingly brain dead subject matter that we delved into on some of this album is truly a marvel. I love the fire it has and while not a Shakespearean piece of literature, it was a blast and half filled with explosions and nonsense one-liners that will probably have me coming back for repeated listens. Run don’t walk to “Raising Hell” if you like unserious fun with a side of genre pioneering. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: It’s Tricky, Walk This Way, Raising Hell

I was just thinking that these Sky reviews are too long. I’m usually working when I write these. With my full attention, I am yapping about every note. With this fucker being 73 god damn minutes, I can’t imagine the trend stopping now. I’ve only really listened to the first OutKast album and been subjected to the hits over the years, so I’m interested to see if this one hits the ears like most 2000s era rap. Cyber sex noises to start, hooray. Oh HELL YEAH. Driving, modern, angry. Beautiful. The beat is so odd and surrounded by a bunch of interesting sounds that add depth to an already excellent track. Perfect start. Well, the feature is mid, but the song itself brings exactly what you’d want from an opener. I can’t talk about every interlude. If you, a die hard, uhh “my reviews” reader wish to follow along (I know how popular that is), assume I skip them. Or use your critical thinking, whatever. This song was in Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2004 I think. Played the shit out of that on my Grandpa’s PC. Gotta play video games when you can, even if you’re listening to OutKast while triple bogeying at St. Andrew’s as a confused pre teen playing as Ernie Els. Try to be more dope than that, Andre. Was this song actually in that game? Who cares. It’s not very good. The sign they is. Don’t besmirch the golf games. This song probably has a billion plays. I can’t see because I’m in the sky, but yeah it’s Ms. Jackson (you following along??? Easy. right, gang?) meh. I feel like this is why I never really gave OutKast a chance. I felt like this would be the best of a mid bunch. I always got the vibe that as OutKast went on, they thrived on being different rather than producing good music that is different. Perfect Apple commercial stuff. Anyway, this song is alright. Apologies to Ms. Jackson, Andre and of course, Big Boi; if that is your real name. I’m sorry Big Boi, I am for real. Let’s get Killer Mike in here, and see what he has to say. Instant Sgt. Slaughter reference. This is what we needed. Meh. It tails off from there. This is going to be so bloated I can tell. Tooooo long on every idea. Now. Be careful. I could be referring to the interlude here (I’m not) but THIS song starts off with a real rap beat, and I’m afraid. I want poetic pomp and circumstance Andre. Now, guess what, I don’t think you’re an intellectual. Sorry pal. If I can enjoy it, it means you’re dumb, and now I’m dumb for enjoying it. We are valueless together. Nice to hear an honest to goodness rap song. A Run-DMC reference and everything. Send back my nonexistent MENSA membership. I am simply a passenger on a boat guided by the beat. Gross song title, following a sort of funny interlude, and when I say “sort of funny,” I mean not very funny in content but in its back and forth which was decently edited. We haven’t heard much from Gangsta Boo since this feature. Maybe that’s for the best. Is this what the B.O.B of Airplanes fame is named after? Remember that guy?? Amazing what the mind can unearth. Anyway, a super frantic and odd song that feels like a protest. I’d have to dig into it further, but I like it. I feel like Andre 3000 can have such an excellent flow when given the chance. When he wants to just rap over a huge beat, it’s electric. Over used word but losers on the internet now, but it is a good way to describe how he accompanies the beat. This beat is a Transylvanian organ passage over pounding hip hop bass and percussion. Hey. Even “B-Real” is fine. Am I allowed to listen to so many bomb themed songs on this flight. I might get a cease and desist. Backbone and Big Gipp on the same track. Is it Christmas? In a response to the Dogg Pound, OutKast asserts that they indeed, love the hoes that went unloved by snoop and his titular crew. Is he saying “fake eyes” in the chorus? Backbone AND/OR Big Gipp love women with glass eyes, spread the word. Blessings up for the early onset blindness community. Man the turbulence is heavy. Hope this doesn’t read as some sort of final journal. Uhh. If I go down listening to a bad bling era hip hop Mambo song, I anticipate some BIG reparations in the afterlife. In the wise words of Andre 3000 (the most advanced Andre to date) “Fuck it, we chicken nugget.” This sucks. Pour me another drink of non-alcoholic caffeine sludge please. Whatever variety you have. Use your imagination. I think if you threw MC Ride over this song, it would be sick. For now, it’s fine. This could’ve been cut so hard. Next. Stop screaming “Break” at me. At this point I feel like I’m in some CTE dream. Or is it a RAP fanatic’s dream as the fates have assembled th household names of TMO, C-Bone AND the fabled Slimm Calhoun in one place. I am reaching my “breaking” point. This is indeed “Gangsta Shit.” Emphasis on Shit. Why must everything be toilet or stench related on this album? This sounds like something that music nerds would lose their collective mind over. My mind is firmly here, although wishing it could escape from this space toilet song with the scream cry outro. Two to go. Let’s try to economize words. I wish a producer or somebody interpreted and said “hey Mr. OutKast, maybe this is two albums” OR even better make this one album and then cut this piss poor second half. Oh Cee-Lo. Fuck you. It’s ok. He gets it. Open up your flower? Alright wrap this up. This is revolting. A 7 minute song about sex from the perspective of what appears to be several levherous weirdos who fancy themselves poets. This is an album with 12 extra songs attached to it. I don’t listen to extended versions for this endeavour and I couldn’t fathom that this was the actual album. I made sure it was right before and I SUFFERED through much of the back half. Any ideas that were good (and there were plenty) were absolutely mined dry by the time this thing crawled to the final seconds of its 73 minute run time. An interesting album with a few good songs that completely wore out its welcome and confirmed much of what I thought to be true of OutKast coming into this review. This is bloated and overbearing but somehow intriguing enough not to plunge down into the ones. Bad, but redeemable is the verdict as I can finally rest my beleaguered fingers. Stink, Stank, Stunk. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Gasoline Dreams, Spaghetti Junction, B.O.B. Bombs Over Baghdad, Xplosion

Alright Julian. I’m really not happy about a 75 minute album here. This better be a groundbreaker. I know nothing about this and therefore have nothing to say, except I’m sure that I’ll make about six jokes about me being the one who has to “Cope” with this album. The mouth clicks are already insufferable. Well. They’re not that bad. I think I’ve listened to too many in a row. To then dive into an hour and 15 minutes of weird indie shit from 1991 was ambitious, if not completely bereft of thought. I would like to sort your mistakes from first to most major and then repeat that for no less than 3.5 minutes. The worst part is, the song is alright. A decent swell to an impassioned finish. I have no idea what the passion is about, but here we are. You feel overrated? Hmm. Interesting. List maker, the floor is yours. Ah you included it anyway. Makes sense. Bah this one is a good song. It is a little dramatic, but what the problem with that when accompanied by a high energy song with a good melody and vocal pattern. Reminiscent of the Tragically Hip. Now for non-Canadians! I won’t hold that against it. Listen here Julian. You were dragging me into your game. Do NOT give me a white mom who wears Bali Pants version of a reggae song. Don’t do it. He didn’t, but this backing track is pretty rancid. Hell let’s just write this one off. You have like a thousand more minutes to redeem this puppy. Turn this easy rider around Jules. What did I do to deserve this flavourless song? Was it because I didn’t like Easy Rider? Well maybe the next one. I believe in you. Here we go. This makes me want to buy a Verizon plan. Get into it. Rockabilly Idol. Is that better? I’m leaning more towards that. The riff is decent albeit a little whiny. Not a bad return; but still haven’t found what we’re looking for. NO BONO NO. Sorry. I have PU2SD. Got myself a Joshua Tree flashback. A lot of the group calls them “Bono Blasts.” Happens to the best of us. Be kind, we’re getting the help we need. A solid 8 minutes for the next one to get its point across. My headphones are running out of steam and this mediocre three minute guitar solo feels like a genuine waste of battery. Julian IS a safe surfer though. He always has that Safe Search on. Never clicks “I’m feeling Lucky.” You have to commend that commitment to cyber safety. He wrote a song about it. I like that. I think I like this song ironically. I have a lot of time for actual weirdos. Not performative “quirky” people. I feel like Julian is just weird at this point. And something is charming about it. I could be wrong and find out he killed somebody or is a massive predator or something but for right now. I’ll give it to the freak. Is this a reference to “Shut up and Drive” by that blonde girl? I literally can’t remember who did the song, therefore the joke remains incomplete. Who cares. I have like 12% headphone battery and I’m listening to this weirdo deliver me songs that I hate myself for kind of liking. I’m just trying to make bad jokes. It’s my calling. Another surprisingly decent song. “If you believe in me, you believe in human sacrifice.” Beautifully insane. Crazy closing riff too. This feels like I’ve had a poison dart thrown at me and I’ve awoken in a mysterious jungle OR “lungle” as my brother’s classmate insisted on writing for the duration of a jungle themed story that he wrote. When you mix up your verbal l’s and j’s, grade 1 English is going to be a struggle. Or should I say, a “luggle.” Great Big Sea singing “Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I’m Yours.” Weird police sampling. This guy is nuts. Not a great song, but I have a smile on my face. What the sweet hell is happening? I’m in love now. One can be either raving or drowning, but not both. I don’t make the rules. The Cope Man does. We are in his domain. Is this an ad for a ferry service in the Bahamas called “SeaLink”? Because I want in. Although maybe not best to include “downing” in said advertisement, but we have room to grow. Oh yeah buddy. You can bet I’m cutting a mean rug in my seat. Julian is going OFF with head explosion song. Is this funk preset B on GarageBand 2009 edition? This is the greatest. Funk Preset C follows swiftly on. Leper skin reminds me that we’ll never get death metal on this list which still burns me. MAYBE Symbolic or something. Anyway. This goofy soundalike intro to Eye on Springfield rolls on and remains entertaining. Let the good times roll. Now THIS is a love song. It’s insane. This is straitjacket music. It’s what’s playing behind the eyes of institutionalized murderers on laudanum. In that way, it’s metal as hell. In another way, it’s terrible reggae, but I give this freak a pass. Keep the bizarre coming Jules. Yeah, you know what this needed? Alien sound effects and a choral swell fit for Pennywise. Is this the sequel to the other song about hanging out or whatever. A storyteller! Bravo dear Julian. A maraca and some cymbals chiming in an empty space followed by schizophrenic repetition of the title over an orchestral swell. I don’t remember the American, so I’m surprised it has a lite version. Or is it life? Who cares. Will it sell more than the boss? If you’re talking about Springsteen, I’d buy this a 1000 times over before I even thought the name “Bruce Springsteen”. Ha Ha Hee Hee. There is a grown man next to me on the plane laughing with delight while watching “A Bug’s Life.” Maybe they’re shooting nitrous into this plane. Either way, I’m even gleeful at Julian saying he’s born to entertain. You might be right Big C. You might be right. Yeah, this guy is the German Wesley Willis. It has to be said. This album has a permanent theme of being completely insane, yet without any sense of irony. I couldn’t detect the wink or the tongue in the cheek. Not even a nudge. I think this was an album delivered with full sincerity. While the music went from terrible to pretty good, it all has this odd sheen that made it INTERESTING. This is what so many of these albums lack. I’m not looking for everything to have songwriting like the best Beatles albums, as long as your work produces some element of emotion or intrigue . Peggy Suicide would normally be a cry for help but for better or for worse, I think ol’ JC is in full control and brother, grab your popcorn, because Peggy Suicide 2 may be three hours of kazoo solos over poems about trains. Enter the sewer system of your mind and pass me my human sacrifice shovel; we’re about to get messy. Onward to a slip and slide slick with the organs of alien life forms that chutes into a celestial airport bar serving only human hair staffed by a centaur dressed as the 16th pope. Rejoice. We’re eternal. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Double Vegetation, Drive She Said, You…, Western Front 1992 C.E., Hung up and Hanging Out to Dry

SUPER FURRY? That’s pretty furry. I’m going to spend this album wondering if they can live up to this moniker. How furry we talkin here? Like round sort of fat furry, or more of a shaggy type style? Hopefully the music doesn’t sound like Shaggy. Let’s go. I like the sounds in this first song. Interesting, understated yet interesting. Very cool atmosphere. Ooh. This might be up my alley of weird. Well. Maybe. I like the stabs of indie rock riffing. The “trip hop” sections are a little less cool but I am enjoying this one so far. The echoing vocal refrain sounds haunting. Trails off a bit, but mostly good. This one is fairly nice. Something I can’t put my finger on exactly that makes it a little Disney channel-y? Andy the repetition sort of takes it into the gutter for a bit. Nah this one is middling to poor. We do need a receptacle for the respectable. Good people in the trash. From now on, I want exclusively repugnant individuals running everything and being the loudest voices. Oh wait. Anyway, the song is not repugnant. Decent. Whoa. Straight from the streets of Cardiff buddy. Pretty cool instrumental hip hop song actually. So many genres here. Back to blah. This song is lifeless. 1-2-3-4 with lame lyrics. This didn’t need to be here at all. Alright, we’ve truly entered the boring song portion of the album. The tevirw can just stay the same here. Replete with bah bah bahs and not even cool ones. The trippy electronic ending is out of place but at least has elevated my heart rate from the coma like state I was existing in. Barry white and Oasis have a baby and then the singer comes in and is an AI Sublime. No that’s not AL sublime. We’re talking artificial intelligence. This song is terrible, but man is it an interesting combination of things. Can’t even hate it to be honest. Back to whatever. This review sucks, I deeply apologize to the loyal readers. I have to work. Only so much time in a day. A motivational Forrest Gump style request or a dire warning to people of a certain faith. These are the questions that get me through songs like this. Although I believe the inclusion of bad country completes the genres. They’ve all appeared on here. This song is nice. Beautiful melody, interesting sounds. The song has woken me up finally. What can you say about the super furry animals that hasn’t already been said?? Presumably almost anything as I’ve never heard anybody discuss this band even once. I suppose I don’t hang out in Welsh alternative music circles (often anyway). The album started out with a thrill and carried that spirit sporadically. I feel like there were a bunch of random, boring songs that had all momentum screech to a halt, but the interesting points were so odd, I’ll probably be thinking about this one for awhile. That alone makes Rings around the World a worthwhile experience. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Alternate Route to Vulcan Street, [A] Touch Sensitive, Juxtaposed with U, Fragile Happiness

Paul Simon has always intrigued me as a songwriter and singer. Simon and Garfunkel have become one of my go-to listens over the past year or so. Interested to dive into the solo career of a guy who my mostly lasting memory of is a clip of him in a turkey outfit on SNL. What the sweet Jesus is this. Holy hell this RULES. A beautiful Paul Simon song accompanied by an uhh accordion and driving bass is a weird experience. It’s such an odd juxtaposition. It’s pretty fun though. P Simon talking turnaround jumpshots as well. It was a warm summers evening ON A TRAIN BOUND FOR NOWHERE. Man. Makes me want to listen to the gambler. Or make a gambler remix with my immense ability to jockey a disc. I think Living Colour covered it interpolated this. That’s cool. Seriously though, the lyrics are fantastic, and the song shows amazing restraint. The quietude in the face of what could break into an embarrassing impression of a spiritual revival is heartwarming. The features are coming on strong now. The Gaza Sisters and of course the good doctor, General MD Shiranda. Decent song. More fantastic lyrics and delivery. Absolutely loving the vocal performances here. There’s a slight reggae vibe here and the accordion is not my favourite at this juncture but I have to say the song is pretty good. Oh whoa. Sweet background vocals. Or Vo-Kills as I’ve seen on the back of the most cringeworthy of metal records. Uh this song fades for me. Gets a little cringeworthy itself. Cool bass tone, but way too beach-y. Oh this is the hit. What move is this in? All of them? I hate the instruments here. The horns are so lame but god damn I love Paul Simon’s lyrics/vocals. But yeah, other than that and the bass solo, this one sucks. Hmm. No. Not as good either. Come on Paul we were on an early 5 star watch alert. Ladysmith Black Mombazo feature. Big news for Mombazo heads. This is fine. Interesting departure. Fat Charlie the Archangel is up there for lyric of the week. Fun song. Great lyrics. Ugh. This one is cringe. Marci Gras music. Nooo Paul. This is death. Why has he abandoned the quiet and beautiful tones? It’s like some dumbass pop producer was coaching him to act like Huey Lewis and the News. He sounds so uncomfortable. New York White guy gets gifted Daishiki by black friend and makes an album about Africa. Sounds about right. Listen, I love this guy. He’s great. The lyrics are fun and thought provoking and the delivery is typically so gentle and interesting. A true bastion of folk adjacent rock for the mainstream pleb like myself who uses the phrase “bastion of folk adjacent rock.” Maybe I coined that phrase. Read it and weep music reviewers. Anyway, an album that was completely exhilarating to start became a little trite and poppy leaving me somewhere in the middle. Keep the Paul Simon coming but let’s keep it closer to the Sound of Silence and further away from the soundtrack for Jerry Maguire or whatever. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: The Boy in the Bubble, Graceland, Crazy Love Vol. II

Heavy breathing is fogging up my screen. Sabbath bloody sabbath. The inventors of heavy metal and doom metal in one god damn note on the song “black sabbath” are here with their fourth studio album and the first appearance on this list. Oh how I’ve waited for something like this. Would’ve been better if it were Paranoid, but I’ll take a rip at Vol. 4 anyway. Trademark Ozzy vocals send us right into the wheel of confusion. I’ve always found the guitar tone a little thin on this album, but the riffs totally make up for it. This song honestly kind of floated by. Hurts to say. Controversial one. I’m giving it a chance but my first thought was “the person who doesn’t like Black Sabbath’s favourite Black Sabbath song.” I like the piano riff I suppose, but this doesn’t do it for me. Oh fucking Christ. That’s an opening riff. Interlude over and into one of the more underrated Sabbath songs out there. As an aspiring lunar hiker myself I need to learn about moon mountains while having my fucking face melted. 5 stars. AGHHH that opening once again. It keeps going. Terrifying, heavy, terrifyingly heavy. All in 1972. We take for granted what this gave rise to and how groundbreaking it was. No. This is 1972. Full body goosebumps. The opening of the gates of hell. Bludgeoned by an infinite hammer barrage of empty eyed satanic druids. That riff is worth as much as every album combined so far we’ve heard. Followed by a rock song detailing a descent into mental illness. Nothing was this heavy again for another decade. It really took until the thrash metal pioneers of the early 80’s to get anywhere close. Brilliance. I suppose it is fitting that we get a reprieve. Waking up in a pool of sweat and blood after clawing at your flesh during the spiralling nightmare of Cornucopia. Slowly realizing you’re not going to die. The hammer stopping in the cosmos of reverie before battering you once again. More misery condensed into guitar strings. God damn it’s incredible. When I say nobody else was doing this, I truly believe that. When people talk about metal pioneers names like Led Zeppelin and Deep fucking Purple get thrown around . People say Helter Skelter was the first metal song. People are describing hard rock. THIS is early metal. Those doom riffs on the last like 6 bloody songs are insane. If you think Deep Purple is anywhere in the same universe as that you need to reevaluate a lot of stuff. Obviously metal is kind of where I feel the most comfortable and this album delivered in spades. Changes is too weak and there a few rock moments that keep this out of perfect territory, but just barely. Long live Birmingham. 4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Wheels of Confusion/The Straightener, Supernaut, Snowblind, Cornucopia, Under the Sun/Everyday Comes and Goes

Frampton was once dead and now, he’s here, alive and in front of an audience. I guess I’m about to find out why this album was such a big deal? Maybe? Album oriented rock always seemed like the dumbest genre ever invented. So it’s rock, that appears on albums? Or does it just mean no hits? Who cares. Launch that big pig baby. Down into the AOR cellar with me. Ugh. Whatever. Slow paced rock with a piano. Who cares. David Bowie and Rod Stewart called and they’re both upset that big Pete bit their style. David is really mad considering he reanimated to tell me this. Bowie comes alive. Anything but listening to this song. It’s fine, but I can’t believe how much I’ve grown to hate piano in most music. Not my favourite instrument. Great in jazz, but gives everything else a major drift towards the riverboat. It’s finally over. Oh no. We’re getting funky. When a guy who looks like Peter Frampton says that, it’s never good. In fact it’s always bad. Is this just a doobie brothers rip off? Also I hate when fans clap along to music. Let the musicians play and sit there. Or dance. Whatever, but don’t attempt to be an instrument. The bass part was actually kind of funky. Damn you Pete. Not actually too bad. The wah pedal is out. The other thing I knew about Peter Frampton was the wah pedal. All from the Simpsons. As is most of my knowledge base. Anyway. This is boring. And long hoo boy. You wanna be molested? Huh? These rockstars really are wild. This song isn’t too bad. Again, pretty average. This feels exactly like a Tenacious D vocal delivery somehow. It’s honestly pretty good. The crowd loves it apparently. Itchy fingers manrtioned. The only Shakespeare quote I consistently remember. Did somebody get shot at the minute mark? Oh well. This is in the US after all. Please pass the corpse down the row and continue the Peter Frampton concert. This was a stinker. Oooh I know this song. It SUCKS. Prom music is the worst genre out there. Move over vocal jazz, 80’s prom movie scene music conjures up a unique brand of depression that a revolver couldn’t extinguish. Twelve thumbs down. Oooooh buddy we really have those ivories tinklin’ now. This is somehow worse. Go to the sun Pete. Random guitar section and the crowd went fucking nuts. That “pop” made for a pretty rad intro to this one. The first drop of heaviness accidentally crept in. This ends up being the riff to “Feel like Makin’ Love” which isn’t that bad a thing honestly. It’s a decent song. Not as boring. The intro makes the whole thing to be fair. Too long again though. I know Peter Frampton said the song was called Shine On, and also said Shine on 687 times )while I was trying to accomplish an infuriating computer task), but what is this song called? Need some help. Ooh a terrible version of Jumpin’ Jack Flash. Perfect. Guitar shop level riff playing. It sort of picks up from there but any return to verses is death. Is this an admission of cocaine use? I mean if it is, get some better shit. This album has like zero energy. And for a live album??? If this thing wasn’t live, oh boy. These songs are so mid. Bad ballad. 14 more minutes. It has some life. But just a small amount. Like a faint heartbeat on a coma patient. I think he done to the coma well too many times in the past couple days. Oh so “Funk Mann” is responsible for the keyboards. I know who to blame now. I despise you Mr. Mann. The rest of this reminds me of an excellent Simpsons episode, so that’s good on its own. It’s a pretty fun concert outro. I could play drums on this album. I may have. The 70’s were a blur. Good music doesn’t have to be complicated, but most of this record could be accomplished today with like two hours of practice and a YouTube search for “writ song.” Pete seemed like he was having fun and this is relatively harmless in the end. Not good, but did it really have to be? People had fun, whatever. As an album, I found myself asking “why?” But I think it sold incredibly well. Anyway, this mostly sucked for me but I can’t hate it too much as there was some charm outside of the dreadful piano and somewhat shabby playing. This truly was an album oriented around (soft) rock. I’m not sure I feel like you do, Pete, but I feel like I’m glad this one is behind me. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: All I Want to Be (Is by Your Side), Do You Feel Like We Do

Like what I would imagine is common among many people of my age, I know one song by this band AND it’s not on this album. That’s always good. I mean I can’t say I love that song anyway, but a little trip back behind the rainbow curtain after what was an eventful “gay week” no less than a month ago. Let’s get sickening, boys. You know. I hated this opening. I despised it. I got caught up thinking and then the song suddenly grew on me. It’s not bad. The lyrics are poignant and address doomed relationships built in the valley between insecurity and opportunity and the prospect of returning to that cycle as those two traits expand. Damn. I went to the Pet Shop for a hamster and some cricket chow, and I left with a clear eyed view of mistakes from the past. Bless you boys. Speaking of mistakes. What kind of thing don’t you normally do? Sing songs? Write songs? Compose effective melodies? I’d believe all of that from this disappointing sashay through the closing bubblegum shop. What the hell is going on. This just isn’t for me. There’s nothing happening. It’s so soft and sappy and the lyrics have lost all lustre. It’s sweet but puckeringly so. Next. Whoa. I’m at an arcade in Shinjuku once again. Let me play DDR17 and get absolutely mopped by some lifer with that’s been there for 4 days with Monster energy drinks and a a token on a string. Family channel elevator music hour rolls on with the revelation that no lovers are alive anymore. The PS Boiz killed all lovers. Sorry world. I have returned to the arcade. Club bangers abound here. These have all sucked by the way. When I start just doing dumb sentences, it means the songs are bad. Alright everybody, the roller rink you are now at has run out of orange crush meaning there is really no reason to be open any further. One last song before we close. The janitors are revving their mops at their stations awaiting the vacancy of the track smeared with sweat, aforementioned orange pop and blood. That’s their swan song. The grace of the mop obfuscating the unforgiving floor under the glow of a faded Pepsi scoreboard. Purity regained for at least another day. Close up shop weary sweep, for today has been rolled to its full potential. UH HUH UH HUH UH HUH. Not good. One and one make five. Whoa. New math invented too? These guys are on it. These beat actually goes so unbelievably hard. Well the stabs of whatever that instrument is are fantastic. The rest is mid. More like to sing is a sin!!!! If you’re uh singing in this ON this sin song. Fuck. Most charm is gone. This song is garbage. Holy shit this is the football chant. YOU’RE SHIT AND YOUR TEETH ARE BIG. Is it? Anyway. Go East. Go away from this song and towards the maritimes where things are nice. Well the mid song breakdown of this was pretty fucking sick. And now I’m waiting in the silence for the promised “hidden track.” Bless the Pet Shop Boys. At no point was I angry which I think is a huge win for this project. It was light and fluffy and really didn’t do much for me; however, it was interesting. It made me smile, brought forth an occasional chuckle and was a fun writing prompt. Isn’t that the reason we’re all here? No? It’s for the music? Well, then I feel I’ve wasted close to an hour. This is just not for me, the west end boys strayed further west as their song instructed and left me on the black rocks of Peggy’s Cove relieved to finally hear the crashing waves, over the glittery softness of what “Very” brings to the table. 1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Can You Forgive Her?

Oh buddy. An album I have in my personal collection??? I think it’s the first one. A lot of pressure here Mr. Chef. Well. More so Ghostface. He’s the glue. I’ve heard a lot of this already. I’m expecting stripped back beats and violent vocal delivery. Please break the curse. Even the intro has energy. Shouting random oddities. Right into loading a gun presumably, although it could be a stapler. No. It’s a gun. Ghostface has my favourite “flow” of any rapper. He kind of saves this song. The beat is too laid back for an opener. The piano riff sample is not what I would’ve gone with, but thankfully I’m not producing rap albums. Also, I dont want to harp on this, but I don’t like bootleg Wu-Tang members. U-God and Cappadonna specifically. Very bad. Anyway. Not a bad start. Now this is a beat. Wartime racial slurs aside the way this one kicks in is electric. The eerie “don’t worry ‘bout it” accompanied by the baby cry has always been so cool. Claiming New York was ancient Babylon. Selling coke straight out the bottle. So many quotes. So much menace. This is the god damn best. The first song I heard from this album. Cash rules, everything black around me, as you can see. This review can just be quotes I think. I retract my statement, THIS song is the god damn best. I don’t know what this sample is. I know I’d lose my mind if I came across it though. That’s always a fun moment. Anyway. This song is more laid back, but it’s super cool. Kind of floated by. Still good somehow but not a high point. This is a high point. Incredible. One of the greatest of all time. Everybody is fantastic. How did this group come together and how is everybody so unique and talented? Taking the worst song from 36 chambers and making it fantastic? That’s one of the better things this album has surprised me with in this listen. I don’t like the vocal sample, and never have, but the rapping on this really takes it to an aggressive place. Still trails on too long, but this is a good one. He will approach you. Keep it real, get your own shit. Uh oh. I copied it word for word. Anyway. On to the song where he talks about ice. Unfortunately, Cappadonna is here, but fortunately, we start with Ghostface who calls himself the black Jesus. I’m not convinced that isn’t true. This song is divisive. The tweaker beginning is always fun. Is he talking about popular British shoe brand, Clark’s? I have never had one clue what he’s talking about. Clogs? Anyway, the screaming sample is out of place, but the beginning is very good. Ghostface and Nas????? Just add Mobb Deep and it’s the best. I hope the Infamous is on this list. This song was disappointing considering the participants. I HATE this chorus. It’s so disgusting. Why do you have to sing about sex? It’s virgin behaviour. However. This beat and Ghostface? He could be rapping about hating me specifically and this song still rips. A fine song. And not in an old timey really nice way either. Just ok. Uh oh. Mellow times. Not believing in heaven because you’re living in hell is a well meaning, albeit ham-fisted concept. This song isn’t good. Very skippable. Yikes that last song sucked. I seemed to remember the last side of the second LP was a drag. I think it’s a good time to say I think music requires repeated listens. First time listen 3’s and 4’s could grow to be 5’s. Even 1’s and 2’s (as much as it pains me to say) could blossom into enjoyable releases. I have heard this album many times and it is great. Despite not being a “Cuban Linx,” I secretly enjoy this album away from the prying eyes of Chef Raekwon and the elusive “Killah,” who produce what is a fantastic, aggressive and might I say mafioso-tastic waltz through the one of the many chambers of Wu-Tang’s hallowed catalogue. 4-4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Knowledge God, Incarcerated Scarfaces, Criminology, Guillotine (Swordz), Can it Be All So Simple (Remix), Ice Cream

The attack? Massive. A very memorable band name. I feel like I haven’t heard one note of their music and I know that name so well. I wonder if they’ll be cool and aggressive. Or at least assertive. Or at least not terrible. Only one way to find out. DJ, spin this puppy up. Massive attack is about to make .0000004 cents off of this user. Oh god. The vocals and record scratches. This thing is shit. And it doesn’t pick up. Let’s hope it’s an intro, because we have attacked nothing. These are joke vocals right? The elevator reggae mixed with whatever these vocals are make this one of the most horrible songs I’ve ever heard. That’s a low bar. The cool Godzilla horn stabs take it out of that gutter, but the passage with the vocals? Absolute bottom of the barrel. If I’m going to hold 50 year old divorced white women to task for doing terrible vocal jazz on instagram after discovering polyamory, these guys need to be slammed for this too. It’s not that bad but it’s not that good! Gangster Whitewalls would’ve made me turn this off, but I have to remember the project. Digging the scene with a gangster lean. Remember the project. Remember the project. Remember the project. All my loyal readers will remember the SpongeBob movie and the scene in which the king takes off his crown, and that one fish screams BALD BALD BALD, until he puts it back on. Replace “BALD,” with “WHITE,” and it is echoing throughout my head throughout this album but apparently there is a black guy in the band. So I’m wrong. But this fucking abominable Shaggy tribute makes me want music to be done. Remember Biggie Cheese though? He was good. This has 143,000,000 + plays at press time. No words can accompany a statistic like that. I feel embarrassed listening to this. University project levels. Caterwaul over this dumb beat. This is sounding more and more like a prank. How much can we get away with type of thing. How does this emanate from your soul like music should? This is nothing. I can get behind a hymn to Big Wheel. The hapless Spider-Man villain who was unable to pilot his large wheel and crashed into the sea. Any sort of hymn or even a somber maritime dirge to him would be appreciated. However, here we are listening to an atrocious song that has nothing to do with poorly received comic book bad guys or even good music. Another failure, this time where the eagles fly, on a mountain high. An abhorrent, wretched mess from start to finish. I felt myself cringing at the rapping that would be more home appearing in the home videos of an upper middle class white family’s Christmas party 2001. Every song was a skip and while there were moments of alright rhythm sections, any foray into lyricism or vocalization took this album, along with my screaming carcass, past the gutter into the core of the earth, where I was scalded for all eternity and forced to observe life through a molten hourglass. Hell is real. 0-0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Thinking about Big Wheel and also Biggie Cheese at one point. That was fun.

As a young fella, I always thought this was the “first punk album.” That’s insane. Literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever thought. And you’ve seen my thoughts here. Haven’t you? Oh please somebody be reading this. Actually? Maybe that wouldn’t be for the best. Ugh. Let’s get another one of these going. Good riff, kind of less energy than I had hoped, but a fairly raw edge which I love. YES. This rules. I love this song. Always have. I’ve always taken it as pro-abortion, but if it’s not, fuck this band. As many abortions as we can handle buddy. Available for all. Anyway. The song goes hard as a pro-abortion anthem. No feelings eh? It’s kind of like that. Producing a small amount of numbness. I’m kind of feeling whatever about this. Liar is mid. I found myself wanting it to be over. Problem here is this song is like the other songs. The exact same. I don’t hate that formula, it can work, but this takes some of the song ideas, rather than the energy. Always love a good shot at the Queen. As a man with Scottish roots and a healthy distaste for the actions of most leaders in all societies/communities, it’s fun to hear any jab at her and her supporters. I’m also a lazy sod and not 17, so this song only half speaks to me. Nah it’s fine. Guitar Hero time pal. Decent song. Hard to look past the overplayed I love the slow, creeping riff here. The tone is great, the song sounds a little different. Almost the B-52s but with a harder punk edge. An actual discovery. Pretty Vacant is dragging on me for some reason. Might be too much music for the day but either way, I’m feeling fairly empty myself. I think songs that are just about New York are so funny. It’s so overdone now, but back then, it was finished off by F.E.A.R’s “New York is Alright if You Like Saxophones,” which is a better sentence than I’ve ever written in my entire life. This song was alright. A lame end. I can’t sigh in a text box, but rest assured I’m sighing. I want to love this, but it’s so popular, it’s almost lost any pink credit it once had. That’s the difficulty of listening to old music with current knowledge. As a boy in 1977, this probably would’ve scared me half to death and excited me, but then again, I’d have heard Black Sabbath and all the oddities of the 60’s and 70’s. We weren’t even that far from Thrash at this point. This album is fun, has some cool moments but will ultimately leave my brain almost immediately. I say this is fine. Johnny Rotten says BODDDDDIES, and I say, “this was pretty good.” Even if the name of the band has a dirty word in it. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Bodies, God Save the Queen, Sub-Mission

I am an incredible hater. I hate vociferously and with a persistent and ignorant malice. The perfect combo to indiscriminately just not like stuff. Eric Clapton fits that hateable category for me. I know nothing about the chap, but I still find that he seems like a man who make you feel uncomfortable buying a guitar. Anyway, here’s one of his bands. Hope I don’t hate it. The best. Can only go down from here. Accompanied the nuclear waste montage on the perfect yet still underrated show “Get a Life,” and now hits my ears as both a reminder of that and as an incredible song. Three thumbs up (the extra is from the toxic waste). Super overplayed, but Sunshine of your Love is good. It’s so hard to hear it anew, and I think that ship has sailed but the song has its moments. That riff is iconic but I’ve never been able to enjoy the rest of the track as much. I’m such a sucker for vocal variation. The falsetto sections are so weird and haunting. This song was a huge surprise and absolutely fantastic. Hmm. The boredom is creeping in with this puppy. Ugh. This is terrible. Alright. A little bit of a reprieve here. Finally. Back to some upbeat stuff. It’s fine. A rainbow with a beard??? That’s cool. Uhhh. I’m running out of things to say. I’m still so behind from the Christmas break. Boring white guy blues. They’re ENGLISH????????????? NOOOOOOO. I knew that. Anyway. This is weird. I feel like it’s trying to be psychedelic and not really genuine. This feels like straight edge drug impersonation. Well Eric. This wasn’t too bad, I have to say. Tracks 1 and 3 blew my face off, and the rest sort of just left me without a face and getting kind of chilly noticing that my now faceless body is being exposed to the elements. I think if this was delivered in a more rough manner, it would’ve been even better, but what we have with Disraeli Gears is a competent album with some real heavy hitters to start it off and a trail of mediocrity to wind to a close. I suppose a re-listen might be warranted but for now, I leave dreaming of sunshine, love and of course, spelling bees in space. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Strange Brew, World of Pain

I keep talking about video games I played as a youth and once again, SSX Tricky comes to mind. DO AN UBER TRICK. And of course, the Australian (?) character in a wet suit, Moby is my reference point. I assume he doesn’t make an appearance. This sounds like the jaunty intro to an early 2000s family movie. This song could’ve been 1 minute. That would’ve been all I needed to hear. After that it’s complete garbage. This makes me want to listen to where the samples came from rather than the Moby song itself. This one is kind of funky but it again goes on too long. WAY TOO LONG. Let’s see what one idea we can stretch over 4 minutes this time. Guess what. He stopped doing that. He has gone ahead and just decided to do a song filled with different bad ideas. See previous track review. This one was actually a little better. The heart feeling bad was at least sort of emotion adjacent. Meh. Repetitive malarkey. I am “rushing” to get this over with. Oh man. Noooo. The pain. Look at this guy and listen to how corny this is. Please. Even if it’s some ironic commentary on the fleeting nature of youth and its expression through diasporic disparity or whatever, it still fucking blows. Moby is a troublesome guy. Is that what he’s saying? Who cares? Machete eh? Hmm. I could think of a few things I could do with that machete. Sugar cane fields mostly. Something happened on “7”? Didn’t catch it. I like this old timey shit, but it’s probably not this guys song. He just put his GarageBand piano and drum sample behind this gospel song that would’ve been better on its own. Are we going to hear that Fatboy Slim song? Is Moby Fatboy Slim? What a dumb sentence. There was a song here! Whoa. Hold on. Is this almost interesting? Still repetitive, but it has some semblance of atmosphere. It’s super pretentious and too close to the mic but I think I have Stockholm syndrome. Way to go Moby. Whoa Moby is really exiting the same sounding area. Oh wait never mind, that shitey piano has returned. Yup! Another song. This one is kind of nice. Gentle, soft, but ultimately a voyage of boredom on an already arduous trudge through electronic autofellatio. The Sky may be broken, but these are my favourite moments on the album. He sounds deranged. Like a captor saying these things to his prisoner. Terrifying. Well. A muted outro to a muted album. Not the moment I think he hoped it would be. The repetition kills these for me. I’m sitting here listening to a record. I’m not in a movie, I’m not at a weird dance. I’m sitting and listening to the same sound over and over again. It gets frustrating to endure the same sounds for an hour. If that’s the objective of the artist, then maybe I’m not prepared for the fast paced world of art studio electronics shows. The darker stuff was alright, and the gospel samples make me want to listen to old gospel, but as far as Slimboy Fat over here, a big pass. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: If Things Were Perfect, The Sky is Broken

The heads are talking and spinning and talking and spinning. Anyway. Hi how are ya??? Another trip through my mind to the beat of some sort of musical composition dumped fresh and steaming into my phones browser via the algorithm (or malignant intentionality). Let give this a whirl and ruin my Spotify for another day!! A big congrats to me on being 1 bloody tenth of the way through this futile exercise. Album 100 and still no 5s. Will big suit man break the curse? We open with some interesting stuff happening. Oh man. Cool. The psychotic vocals are a lot of fun and what I was hoping for coming into this. VERGING on reggae lameness, but skillfully dodging the steel drum in favour of digital oddity that works so well. How can something be this accessible and still so off the wall? Fantastic. Cool song title. I love a good song title. Man, my vocabulary really is bad. Too much proximity to the US has fried my brain. Anyway, this song was alright. A much better track. So much African influence. I remember hearing that on some college radio station, so it has to be true. I like it. Repetition that doesn’t drive me insane. A classic deserving of this distinction. A regular listen for me and a perfect song. Lyrically thought provoking, musically cool and ultimately a beautiful experience. Coooool. Man the songs are catchy and yet also full of depth. This one really highlights that. Seen and Not Seen is a gem. What an odd series of words. Certainly just sat and listened. Didn’t even try to conjure up any bad jokes. That’s a first. The listening wind makes me wish I was listening to wind!!!!! Man I’ve been killing the zingers lately. Just smashing them out of the park. This is a disappointment. Boring and sappy. Twas a dusty eve on the windswept prairie. Only warmth was the revolver, freshly expunged into the doubting heart of yet another uncooperative town marshal. The villages run together, the crimes, once a means to an end, seem to now be senseless, yet they continue to itch like an inert reflex. Wind whips the dust into the eyes of the lone traveler. A tear where there have been none for an age. Ride forth. Pillage. Burn. American Dream. This album was fantastic. An eerie soundscape at points that shifted and evolved into bombastic exultations with tinges of neuroticism. Themes of dissatisfaction mixed with passage of time colour what is an emotionally excellent piece despite the accessible nature of much of the music. A real gem that gets close enough to perfection to almost break the curse. This is not my beautiful five, but it’s certainly a leap in the right direction. 4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Born Under Punches (The Heat Goes On), The Great Curve, Once in a Lifetime, Seen and Not Seen

GORDON LIGHTFOOT SINGS EVERY SONG EVER WRITTEN. Alright. At 3 hours and 14 minutes this is truly a blight upon my soul. I will rate it as an album so no matter the content, expect a 1. I will collect my thoughts every once in a while if something in particular jumps out and then sum it up at the end. This sounds preferable to the other option if subjecting the reader or myself to individual track reviews. I’m only one man and nobody reads these anyway. What can I even say about each and every one of these songs? I’m breaking my rule. Yeah let’s call the whole thing off. This is one of the worst songs I’ve ever heard. Nobody says Mater. What the fuck is the lyrical scheme here. It completely sucks. I have heard people reference this song but near the end where she’s just saying “I say car and you say Grawallydar” it just reads like garbage comedy. Anyway. Back to the world’s longest album. “The only kind of work that brings enjoyment, is the kind of girl and boyment.” One of the lyrics of all time. I know she didn’t write these songs but sweet Jesus. Such a talented singer too, but give Daniel Day Lewis the script to C.H.U.D. and see what happens. Oh this was “nice work if you can get it by the way” The Rhumba song again proves that the Gershwins were disgustingly bad at writing lyrics. This must’ve been comedy if the time or something. Adding “a” to every word in order for it to rhyme is killing me. The most grating song so far and that’s saying a lot. I’m really not getting much out of this so far. The rhyme schemes don’t do it for me. Right down to the “Real American Folk Song.” I hoped this was Hulk Hogan’s old theme song. Not that I like Hilk Hogan, but at least a man can think of wrestling and get his mind of songs that She’s “looking for a boy” 5 foot 6? Short king anthem. And now we’re singing about a cousin in Milwaukee. I don’t think we’re halfway through this big son of a bitch and I’m quivering towards the skip button. Man she fucking crushes that dude in “I’ve got a Crush On You.” “It’s not that you’re attractive.” Devastating. “Love is Sweeping the Country” leads off with “Why are people gay?” So that’s fun. I remember sort of liking “Love is Here to Stay” when Sinatra sang it. I like this one. Holy hell. I don’t know how far I am into this mess. It’s been at least an hour. It has to be. But this is good. I’d like “Slap the Bass,” if the lyrics weren’t such garbage. “Embraceable You” is in the Simpsons, but after 68 songs that are the same as this, it’s hard to get pumped. Well. It’s over. I’m sweating, I hate love, I hate the 1900’s as a century despite it containing my birth. Maybe that’s a comment for a psychiatrist actually. Even through all the vitriol I have written and the lack of standouts, she’s an incredible talent. The lyrics, bunk. The songs? All the exact same. But the vocals. To sing that well on so many different bad songs is a triumph. Each of these tracks on their own far removed from the others is a great performance. It was the length and the lyrics that made this such an arduous journey, not the talents of Ella Fitzgerald. When the vocal jazz torch train finally arrived at the Disney instrumental closer, I could feel the stinging pain of every single lame Gershwin rhyme ringing between my beleaguered ears. The closest we’ll ever get to someone singing the phonebook. Probably. Somebody pin down Nick Cave. I am spent. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: Love is Here to Stay

Africa and Brazil meet in a battle of WHO IS BEST AT MUSIC. Brazil the country has had the olympics and also has a green flag. Africa is an entire continent and brings to the table Nelson Mandela and of course the proud nation of Burkina Faso. Stick around for what will surely be an all-time throwdown between two of the world’s landmasses. Whoever will win is a toss up, but I’m 95% sure the loser will be me. Whoa. This riff goes hard. Jorge is actually not doing what I thought he would. I normally don’t love listening to music in languages I don’t understand, but if I can like death metal, I can give Portuguese a chance. This was a pretty decent start. Holy hell. Jorge. A little too cool. There we go. He backs off. It’s fine. Oh. I prefer when he doesn’t sing. His talking is way cooler. Bit of a snorer here aside form the weird frog instrument. Are those bird noises or an unhinged background singer just going “AH” every few seconds? Much funnier to imagine the latter. This song sucks. Ditto. Oh my god it’s Brazilian disco. If you something something and you think I’m sexy come on Jorge let me know. Frig off Jorge. This could be a rap sample or something. Much cooler. Still middling. Annoying near the end. Chaos and not in a good way. Why is this a seminal release? This isn’t good. THIS CONTINUES TO SUCK POND WATER. I can’t stand this kind of music. Call me what you will. It’s not my sound. This is like listening to a house party that won’t stop. I’m feeling that same mix of anxiety and rage. I’m going to knock on the door. Jorge is not happy that I’m trying to break up his party. He is far too drunk and you can tell from the singing. Most of the other guests have left as they acknowledge it is time to go. It’s 4am and Jorge has been belting out terrible music for 7 hours. He continues to scorch his throat to the bitter end here. This might have been good. This is a pure case of I hate this music. It’s not for me. I can’t say it was poorly put together or lacking in passion, I just don’t ever want to listen to music with this sound. It reminds me of sweating and being in the sun. A lot of people like that, so congrats on the new discovery. I enjoyed the energy at points but at others it made me feel like I was in a. Straitjacket. I was right. I lost this battle. Second round knockout. Somehow after about 80 losses out of 101, I’ll still come back for tomorrow with a couple aspirin and an appointment at a neurologist. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: Ponta de Lança Africano

Oh sweet Jesus another band that insists on making an album that is 70 plus minutes long. AHHHHHH. Well. It’s live, so I guess you can’t rip off the good fans of Fillmore East. I was more excited for the Cashew boys, but I guess the Allman brothers will do. Tie me to the whipping post. Soft. I need harshness from that tone. If you’re going to do this kind of blues, give some SNARL. This is a grimace at best. And not the best mascot in fast food history. Vocals are pretty good, but again, lacking something. We have an old new song that is an old song that is a new song we’d like to play for all you old people that are new to us here at this old building that is again, new to us as we are new versions of our old selves in this new day much like the old days. Anyway. It’s fine. This would be way better to absolutely blitzed and be there. Man. I mean. It’s a fairly smooth blues jam. Pleasant. Decent. I want more vitriol, but I guess that’s not coming. I’ll take this as a nice listen. 7 minutes into this song and I am as silent as the crowd. It’s just sort of meh. The beginning of the true guitar solo at that point is kinda fun. I know he’s praying for a more aggressive tone too. This was a long time ago. There’s also the odd mid 90’s jangle riff thrown in at one point. That’s was fun. While Lanta may be hot, this “song” is not. A real long jam song. It’s fine but it’s not gripping me. I love the singing in this one, finally feels alive vocally. Fully warmed up. Those vocal refrains are electric. Hell yeah brother. Let’s wind the evening down. Too slow for a concert. So quiet. It went forever. Was this while people were filing out? I get it boys. You’re very good at your instruments and you love to play them. I’ve tried playing guitar. It’s impossible. Anybody who can coordinate their hands in that fashion is a genetic marvel. I don’t mean tried once. I played for years and years and it’s still iron man played at quarter speed with 3-4 mistakes. With all that uh admitted. This album is too much. It’s wanking on stage and it’s too much. This wounds like it was written to impress one another while in the throes of a heroin coma. There were amazing, soaring moments, but there were also minutes and minutes and minutes where it sounded like I was listening to the roadie tune instruments and play the licks he’s been practicing. This was fine and electrifying at times, but nothing beyond the middle. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Stormy Monday, Whipping Post

The album of the day. The AOTD. It’s a new year. I’m caught up except for that 4 hour Ella Fitzgerald thing I have to trudge through. I might actually die of fatigue during that. But here we go with a band I’ve heard of but never heard. Classic combination. I don’t want to be hyper insensitive, but the thought that is popping into my head repeatedly is “is he deaf?” Like he has a speech issue right? I just need to know. He doesn’t. I’ve checked Wikipedia. Whatever man. He sounds like George Michael drunkenly impersonating Devo. The rest of the song is fairly cool but that singing has produced raised eyebrows and full blown guffaws. Oh I thought he was saying “WATCHING YOU DIE.” Apparently that’s not it. I can’t handle this vocal delivery. I like unique. This is bonkers. Not good enough to be entertaining unique. Now it sounds like “Last Christmas.” Which came first? Ugh. This sucks. Near 13 minutes of bad saxophone loops under a man who will apparently not do a vocal take without a mouth full of what sounds like bread. Oh yeah. We’re getting slow. We’re getting low. Settle in. He’s trying to sing better. Somebody got to him. It’s not working. The doo wop over top of the mid 90’s country. This is maybe 25 seconds of ideas stretched until there are holes in it and it’s transparent so it can fit 6 minutes as if the label asked for a certain length. Awoooooo Werewolves of London. Big Warren Zevon hit. Uhh this is also 7 fucking minutes. Man. Give it a rest. I honestly prefer this monologue from twink Jason Sagan any day over the rest of this shit. My favourite song so far by a country mile. And it still stinks. Listen to this, say Dexy’s Midnight Runners and I respond with a resounding “no.” I did listen to it and any attempt I make to like this band, is dashed upon the rocks of honky the Christmas crooner over here. Is he Dexy? Or one of the Runners? Another 8 minutos. That’s English for “I don’t know what else to call minutes for writing variety.” A Bob Dylan impersonator has now appeared briefly. I read that this album was panned by audiences and critics alike and then was unearthed by virgins who in one final grasp at the clutches of uniqueness to be different, knighted this as a “forgotten classic.” I don’t need to joust in a battle of wits with guys whose whole personality is claiming a love of bad music is a sign of elevated IQ. I will say though, this was not good for much of it, and the parts that were ok were extinguished by an awful singer. This fails as a pop album certainly, but any deeper meaning that one might glean from this is truly a personal choice and does not translate to me whatsoever. Somebody run over to Dexy and tell him that after Come on Eileen, his band needs to pack up and start serving the cruise ship guests. Time is money. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: Reminisce - Pt. 2. Part one was where I can remember a time where I hadn’t heard this album. Remember those days? I sure do.

Jeru is here and he is intent to cause Damaje. After that, he may drop some philosophical knowledge and maybe a slur here and there. I know at least one song here. Let’s set the course for east and chase the sun alongside my pal Jeru. This song is SICK. From the intro, right into D. original. The discordant piano beat is so hard. God. Please continue in this vein. Beat is less fun here. The lyrics are fun and the rhymes are really popping off the page here. Let’s use this skit to describe what is happening on Spotify. An apparently aged Jeru the Damaja in a pork pie hat is absolutely throwing down HARD in front of a green screen that’s blue. It’s god damn gold. That visual adds like 12 stars to this. Not officially, but in my heart. Mental Stamina is good. Another heavy, raw rap track. Da “Bichez” loses me slightly with the lyrical content. I’m not a misogynist BUT is a classic argument. Kinda lame, but of the time. The Jeru loop of cupping his ears makes up for it. LOOK TOWARDS THE DARKNESS. What a silly and hardcore opening. Super scientifical powers needs to be added to my daily vocabulary. The beat has destroyed me. My intestines have been blown to smithereens and I lay here motionless, cheering against Ignorance and his wife, deceit. “Perverted Monks in tha house” is one of the great song titles I’ll see this year. The devil does appear to be pretty happy if the laughter is any indication. Great lyrical work here. A more serious moment in an album with fairly whimsical rhymes. The beats still hit so very hard. A small let down in form, but nothing bad at all. A decent song. Come clean buddy. Despite the homophobic artisan chef work at the top, this is one of the best rap songs from this region and time, and therefore, one of the best of all time. So incredibly catchy, tough, mean, clever. Fantastic. Another excellent beat mixed accompanied by solid rhymes. AND a whole bunch of fun animal noises. Jeru looks tired in the dance. He must’ve put in a few hours of takes just fucking giving it in front of the camera. Looks like a self production, so all you can hear is his breathing and the shuffling of clothes. The song doesn’t wear down though. The beat is still fun as hell, and the rhymes are great. This thing is a monster. So much energy behind the rhymes and the beat selection and composition of DJ premier make “The Sun Rises in the East” a complete auditory delight. Exactly what I look for in a hip-hop release, especially regarding atmosphere. Every beat of the drums bring to mind a menacing east coast monstrosity rising out of the Hudson, like a Brooklyn based Kaiju. Knocked me down and kept me wanting more for the duration of the tight 39 minutes. Dance on Jeru, thanks for the excellent Thursday. I owe you a new Pork Pie hat. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: D. Original, You Can’t Stop the Prophet, Ain’t the Devil Happy, Come Clean - E New Y Radio

Whoa. The Pixies. I’m surprised they didn’t just make up the entire list. I like quite a few of their songs. Interested to see how this one plays out and if I can finally ascend to the final plane of nerd euphoria. I’m ready RYM and r/music. Take me upon your gentle wings to the promised land. Nick Cave and Tom Yorke will greet me with open arms. Alright. I’ve heard this somewhere it feels like. Decent intro. Nothing crazy, nothing grating. Not bad. Heaviness!!!! Oh sweet Jesus it’s beautiful. Even if it’s ironic, this is a cool song. As a critique of loud rock or otherwise this is fun. They write nice songs. The eerie synth running under the whirring guitars and the well sung vocal refrain are all elements of another good song. Great alt rock/pop-rock track here. Even get a little gallop in there. Basically an interlude, but highly entertaining. Is she weird?? Gee whiz I sure hope so. I pray for weird every time I open this browser. A lot of repetition here, but I still love it. Incredible attention to detail in these songs. This one is less to my taste, but we’re in a pretty great spot still. Wow. This is one of the best ones so far. So ahead of its time as well. This is the stuff that Weezer would emulate years later. A clear progenitor of 90’s alt rock. So bloody cool. That’s the thing. It’s interesting and musical, but it feels fresh to me, even now. There are elements that reach into arena rock choruses which isn’t my thing, but 90% of this track rules too. Cool, heavy, fun. I have a ranch I call Number 52 that you CAN see. This was a lie. I don’t have a ranch. This song starts heavy and continues into another excellent low-key alt rock song that doesn’t shy away from making sound. That’s the difference between quiet music and music with restraint. Anyway. Another win. A let up. Let off?? Whatever. It’s still really good, I just can’t say it’s a highlight. This is crazy. Why do I love every song. The screeching, the lyrics, even if they’re only two bloody words, the drive. This record keep impressing. Hmm. The only grating track so far. That’s crazy. One grating moment. Nice, ballad-esque closer. There is nothing wrong with this album. Not a track passed with me thinking it was bad and I’d say all but one passed with me thinking “that was great.” I don’t know how this band is so popular, because they’re truly excellent. The music is accessible and welcoming while having an alternative edge as well as a downright aggressive tone at times. It was hard to formulate praise over and over. I am a much more eloquent hater. There’s almost a guilt about rating an album highly that hasn’t been pre-ordained as one of the “perfect albums” but I truly believe there are no objective truths in art enjoyment. This is exactly what I was hoping to discover. I thought this would be a more poetic moment. I thought it would be my best review and the words would flow as they never had before. While that might not be true, I have an album to return to again and again. 5 HIGHLIGHTS: Rock Music, Allison, Is She Weird, All Over the World, Down to the Well, The Happening, Hang Wire

Well we’re getting closer. We’ve ENDURED late 90’s Bob Dylan’s blues camp stinker and now here we inch back towards the glory days with some blood on the tracks. I think the blood is mine. I’m being trailed by an elite RYM user with an anime profile picture. I can hear the wind howl and on that wind what sounds like his wheezing criticism. “Wow you didn’t understand the raw sexuality of Pulp?” “Hmmm I suppose the themes of Aladdin Sane DO elude most ignorami.” I’m scared, alone and only guided by the trainline to my north. Godspeed Bob. I’m afraid I’ll be captured by this unironic U2 enjoyer before the day is out. First of all, I’d like to say, the song is fine. Secondly, I want to say I can’t help but laugh at times when he really leans into his vocal. Some people aren’t meant for the stage. If he gave this song to somebody else, man; it might be a monster. For now, it’s pretty good. Kept my ear. No. I feel like this is a popular one but I just can’t get behind the main melody. The rise in his grating voice is ridiculously awful. FAAAATTTTEEEEE. Gross. Isn’t the draw of this guy the poetry? Not speaking to me yet. Riverboat music. To be fair, the lyrics are far more interesting here, but I can’t get behind these vocals. It’s an impression of a cool folk twang done by a frail tween at a junior high talent show. Could be 3 minutes. Did not need the extra 4. Not a bad one. I won’t be sad to see this album go if it keeps up in this vein, but this song had some charm. Whoa buddy, we’re getting some decent blues. Well. It’s still ASHEN white, but it’s not terrible. Pretty good actually. A nice departure from whatever else we had going here. Whatever this vocal is, this is Bobby’s range. Keep out of the warbling, and stay right here. Alright, alright. This is kind of growing on me. Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts is the best one so far. Interesting off-kilter beginning into a nice, borderline melancholic jaunt. Shanty-esque. I retract the statement as it has run entirely too long. Repetitive to a fault. If you see her, tell her to call the authorities. Bob Dylan wrote her this awful song, there are Caribbean instruments and it’s a whole thing. Lay low, he’ll move on. No sudden moves. Shelter from the Storm is fine. Oh brother, this is dragging. This is not good song. “I’m not a monkey but I know what I like.” Get this man a Pulitzer. Bad ending. Bob Dylan is a complicated figure for me. On one hand he is so highly revered as a musician and lyricist that it feels as though I am devoid of any musical knowledge for criticizing him. While I don’t claim to be an expert, I can say with confidence that his poetry and music on “Blood on the Tracks,” does not “track” with me. This isn’t terrible by any means but at times the vocal performances are. I get this incredibly obnoxious pseudo-intellectual air from this man. It’s almost as if every white college boy with average intelligence who has co-opted the imagined personality of Bob Dylan has ruined the man himself. I feel it seeping through every word. The fact that he couldn’t hand off the vocals to somebody else speaks to delusion as well as the main reason I won’t return to these particular tracks. It seems like he desperately believes his voice is a charming warble where it’s actually a nasal nightmare. Maybe Bob is more listenable when he’s freewheeling, because on these tracks, we’re verging on a train wreck. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go, Meet Me in the Morning

The only married news team in the whatever the rest of that stolen joke is. Never heard of this which is a good thing. I despise the album cover but have no idea how this will sound. Maybe they’re brother and sister? Who knows. Oh nice. This is actually really quite good. Folk-y and weird at points. Capable vocals. This was sick. A small let-down but still not bad. Now we’re getting the female vocals. I have to assume this is Richard. I don’t see gender. Gentle song. Not bad. Very old style country. Me too sister. I hate working. That’s why I spend it writing these godawful reviews. What station? An effective public transit infrastructure? No way. Catchy, folk influenced. Very good. I have now googled these people and of course they were part of Fairport Convention. And yes, they are divorced. The circle of life. Decent track. I’m a complete sucker for folk music. Sound like you’re in a bar on a Nova Scotia port and I scream and throw my sleep apnea mask on the stage. It’s a sign of affection. Anyway. “Banger.” It’s a little silly, but I do indeed like it. The mix of American and Celtic/Maritime folk is interesting. The female vocals seems to give more of a country feel or at least be on songs that are more country influenced. This song isn’t doing it for me. This one is the worst thus far. Boring, slow and not particularly vibrant in any way. I don’t hate it, but it’s a down moment on what’s been a solid release thus far. The Great Valerio was alright. Not terrible. I like to picture a bootleg zorro despite me never seeing the real zorro. I am just vaguely aware that he existed. In with a bang, out with, well, less of a bang. This folk/rock/country album was very interesting and very good all things considered. An album I will engage with again but not one that is sparking me to engage in a string of attempted wordplay. I suppose that’s for the real freakishly bad or good albums in this collection. A good album that could improve with repeated listens makes for an enjoyable Tuesday. Sorry to hear about the divorce. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: When I Get to The Border, I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight, We Sing Hallelujah

Ughhhhhh. Even the album cover brings to mind what I believe to be the second worst type of rap. Spacey mid-2000’s rap that’s all melodic and sensitive makes me want to jump off a bridge. How about 72 minutes of it???? I really don’t know how this will sound, but in my imagination, I’m going to be miserable for the next hour or so. Let this fiasco begin. Whelp. This blows. That beat is one of the most abhorrent things I’ve ever heard. Bombastic and gross with a weak delivery. This is so incredibly dull. It’s like being rocked to sleep by a demonic horror. You feel weary and fatigued, but you know if you concede to the sleep you will be gnashed by the millions of jagged teeth in the cosmic maw of an unknown entity. Moving swiftly on. UGH. Stop saying “Food & Liquor.” It’s not the cool title you think it is. Again, this type of beat is horrendous. It’s so tinny and shallow. It focuses on the horns or whatever those are rather than, you know, the rhythm? Anyway. This mixed with the lyrical miracle rap and the lame ass R & B vocals tops off another stinker. Way to go Lupe. This had to be in Fight Night Champion. I can at least hear the drums on this one. Not the worst track so far, but it’s still the garbage I hate. Everything is just so squeaky clean and therefore extremely dull. The best song so far meaning the least painful instrument of torture. That accordion stab is boneheaded. Ooh is this that classic Owl City Evanescence crossover. 80% power 50% pain and 100% reason to remember the name. Who cares. This song actually made me laugh. 1000% pain and a 1000000% reason to skip it. Whoa. We’re getting meaningful. Every album like this has a song like this and they all suck. It’s ham-fisted sentimentality. It hasn’t been said in a while, but these lyrics stink. I’ve jotted down more interesting ideas in my notes app at the age of 17. That is not a compliment to me, but an insult of the highest order to Lupe, if that is his real name. He’s got such a boring delivery good god. This is a guy you see post videos on Christian TikTok or something. The sample is not the worst thing I’ve ever heard, but the female vocals over it are so cheesy, it ruins it. I get that he’s making fun of other rappers, but man, you should be making fun of guys whose main musical influence is Common (you). He swore!! Whoa guys. Lupe is letting his hair down. He wouldn’t say “bitch” when listening to Too Short? My dude. Don’t say that. Yes, misogyny is bad, full stop. Don’t even invoke the name of these people though. Too Short is so tongue in cheek. Anyway. I’m not going to get into an argument about lyrical themes with a guy who says “what constitutes a prostitute.” He’s just doing lyrical miracle spherical, imperial stuff. Oh buddy. The eagle screech and Jay-Z. Guess which one of those things I don’t like. It’s Jay-Z. Another key holder of the death of hip-hop from 2000-infinity. At least we have some saviours now. Lupe Fiasco is so lame and Jay-Z is dumb as hell. Is there even a kick drum in this? It’s so light. The production stinks. Big Matthew Santos feature for all you Mariachi heads out there. Or fans of white guys from Minneapolis who sing Spanish music. Whichever. I prefer “American Terroristt” by RxKNephew. At least there I learned something. The Emperor’s Soundtrack is the song I would play to detail every aspect of this genre that I absolutely despise. SOFT vocal delivery, boring beat, bright production. If it could be a single that plays over the Fast and Furious end credits, it’s probably not good. More overused tropes from spiritual rap. It’s just noise at this point. And not in a subversive or interesting way. Listen to “Black on Both Sides” and get what this trying to be with actual life delivered by a capable performer. I’m glad he’s reading names so we know who to hold accountable for this stinker. I’m looking at you DJ Chop. This is 12 minutes??? Lupe Fiasco mentions every person who has ever lived. Shoutout to HypeBeast.com. I would rather hear my name come up in a wartime draft than be credited on this piece of trash. You know this bad boy was the soundtrack to some (white) nerd’s first week in New York and now I have to suffer, almost 20 years in the future. This is what Kanye West sounds like to me, and that is the worst insult I can think of. Fitting that the album cover features a millennial college student surrounded by relics of the early 2000’s while in the infinity of space. This album does sound like it’s being played from inside a space shuttle while my spacesuit ruptures, causing my frozen organs to seep out of my adrift body. Or whatever happens in space. “Food & Liquor” is soft, non-confrontational, and not nearly as meaningful as it purports itself to be. This was more than a fiasco, it was a full-blown disaster. Like a spaceship explosion. Silent, yet incredibly destructive. Somebody save the DS. My NintenDogs need kibble. 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: WHOOSH

Well sir. This album is hard to find the original version of. The version that this thing takes you to is 2 hours long and includes all the stage banter and the bloody Star Spangled Banner. To be fair, listening to American patriotism might be even harder than listening to U2. I’ve found the “OG” version on YouTube. Oh fortune doth smile upon your humble narrator. Of course, due to my unwillingness to add yet another 10-15 loons to my monthly expenditure for yet another, I will be an absentee reviewer. I cannot close the app to provide my blow by blow (as in, my review will blow). Anyway, take it way Duke. Well that was cool. The opening with the clarinet gives way to excellent jazz featuring a multitude of deftly played instruments and an excellent atmosphere. I expected far more big band and swing due to the fact that those were the only genres listed online. And when an album on RYM says the genre is Hypnotica and CheeseCore, I expect to be hearing some fucking Hypnotica and CheeseCore before the day is out. The only real “big band” experience was the last song which, despite the revelry and clear enjoyment from the live crowd, sort of bored me. This was a cool album and one I could see myself enjoying once again. Not perfect but a sweet ride through the tracks of my mind propelled by the horns of the Ellington squad. Newport up. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Festival Junction, Jeep’s Blues

The band so nice they named them twice. Or the band that was so forgettable, they had to throw the name at you twice so you’d remember. That’s the query we will endeavour to answer in the next 45 minutes or so. A few hits on here but a legacy of mixed reviews make this an interesting prospect to start with. Love that instrumental to start. Super weird and it’s kind of shocked me. The chorus stinks and so do the lyrics, but I’m surprised by the underlying musicality here. It gets better as it gets away from that pop chorus. Not a great song, but not a terrible start. Does Duran want a new drug?? Huey Lewis and Rio. Well. As much as I hate myself right now, this song is fun as hell. It’s so incredibly catchy and the musicality has remained from the first track. We dwindle into repetition a little bit, but I can see this one being listened to again. The bass tone on this is fantastic as it has been so far, but I absolutely hate this song. The Mexican Death Match between Hugh Morris and Big Boss Man at Souled Out ‘97 was once described as “A thousand asses.” “Lonely in Your Nightmare” might be 1001. Here it is. The riff is fun. I liked it as a young fella as it’s playful and silly but a little bubblegum for my post 8 year old brain. The odd chanting section was actually kind of great. There are some futuristic ideas here that still sound fairly modern. Even in this jukebox favourite that has been worn down to the nub. Oh no. Oh no no no no. This was a complete snoozer. I have put on my Uncle O’ Grimacey branded sleepwear, blown out my candle on the holder and rolled into a blissful slumber awaiting a New Religion. Oh here we go. Much better. I am rubbing my eyes in an exaggerated fashion. A slightly morose tone?? Mentions of death and electric chairs. This is pretty cool. 3:45 kills. Back to the gutter? Nah it’s not horrible. The marimba section is pretty fun. The rest is very bleh. Doesn’t quite warrant the “Stairway to Hell” joke, but we might be in 80’s pop purgatory. Was this covered or interpolated or something? I don’t know, but that chorus is fairly haunting. I hate the rest of it, but yeah the chorus is quite nice. Man what a cool, eerie intro. Fades into a decent song, but when it first hits, it’s quite good. I have a serious question that I suppose I could google or god forbid, post on a forum. That question is, why did every English band have the same vocal tone? They all sound like this. Anyway. I’ll tweet Morrissey. This is one of the tougher reviews I’ve had to cobble together as far as score. There were insanely cool moments and two really decent songs, and there were stretches of irritation and boredom that are extremely hard to ignore. I beg for half stars, but this one sits right in the middle for me. Good moments, terrible moments, and while she dances on the sun or whatever, I ride into the sunset after delivering another lacklustre review. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: My Own Way, New Religion

Literal indie girl walking around New York music. The overarching aesthetic of all critically acclaimed music from the last 30 years distilled into one photo. I’ve obviously heard of PJ Harvey, but I don’t think I’ve heard one second of her music. Fire away ol PJ. We have gentrifying to do. Whoa. Shouty. Music is nicer when it slows down, but oh boy that first 2 minutes was not great. It’s almost as if it’s trying to be a romantic pop but also have this edge that is cringe inducing. Not a strong start. N-o-o-o-o-o-o-o. Divorced mom radio music for vaguely conservative 20 somethings with a weaponized relationship to spirituality. Gross. Is this the Madonna water album again? Pass. Maybe this is the “sea” portion of the album. Now I’m just bored. That’s the most evil an album can get. From bad to bored is the most insidious combo that be inflicted upon your humble (and very weary) listener. RADIOHEAD CROSSOVER. RYM HAS HIT THEIR TRAFFIC LIMIT. This song is actually not bad, but it also sounds slightly like Creed intros for 2000 WWF shows. That’s my fucking wheelhouse. Oh man. I had serious money that Nick Cabe wrote this song. This vocal line screams our fourth favourite Australian Elvis impersonator. The lyrics do too by the way. I kind of like her insane vocalizing. He’s back. Radiohead man singing about New York. I mean am I wrong???? Is that what this list is? Why do people romanticize living in cities? When I am in large cities there is a palpable contempt, nay, hatred emanating from everybody with the target being everybody else. They are the loneliest places on earth despite being packed with the least interesting people from every town across the world. There are some interesting locals, but they are washed asunder by the droves of exiles from commuter towns across the continent who listen to and write albums like this. Hey, at least we can walk to that authentic Swahili barbecue/barbershop with the 29 dollar cocktails. Brooklyn mentioned. Seriously. Oh my god I can’t even make this up. I can’t despise this aesthetic anymore. This makes me so incredibly angry. What did he say????? Who cares right? We were young and artistic and important and on a roof in a particular city at 1am. We’re all in “Across the Universe.” If I wasn’t so mad at this thing, I’d probably like this song more. Quick, a little more chaotic, and the more insane vocals. Boring. Less insufferable but still veering that way with the repetition. Doesn’t a horse in your dream mean you’re about to drop a really shitty album? See, I like the weirdness of this one a little bit. If we stayed with the more eccentric low tones, I’d be far happier with this thing. Although this stays way too long. Lingering like the stench of urine after the L train passes or whatever. Oh buddy a radio hit. PJ is floating down here with the rest of us. PJ “Excess” Harvey?? We learn so much more about our songstress track by track. This blows HARD. Guess what. You’ll never guess. The woman who spent the last 45 minutes caterwauling about New York and attempting to create a city atmosphere is from A SMALL TOWN. In England no less, but same difference. I have detailed my feelings on the romanticism that gets erroneously spooned atop the concept of living in a large city and don’t need to give this album the satisfaction of doing it again. The music itself ranged from decent to abysmal and what we’re left with is an all but barren release carried by the decided poignance anointed by indie nerds. Whether you’re fading into a fentanyl coma in midtown Manhattan or in Antigonish, Nova Scotia dreaming of walkable vintage sweatpant bodegas, this album still sounds like an embarrassing collection of cliches thrown at the wall. Somebody come in and clean this up; it smells like gentrification. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: Beautiful Feeling, Kamikaze

I’ve been meaning to get into DJ Khaled’s early work. The man before all the winning. Before the apparent brain injury. He appears to be getting out of his car here to gaze back at the accident he inadvertently caused while filming a TikTok about sandwiches whilst driving. A trail of bodies is sure to follow the big winner. For those interested, I know that this isn’t DJ Khaled. What I don’t know, is what this will be. Spin the wheel K man. Oh hell yeah pal. That smooth horn coming in over the top. A lot of bombast to start which can be off-putting, but the middle eastern instruments and vocals go pretty hard. Man this thing is pretty cool. So different to what I’m used to and a haunting song. Oh no. We don’t need to go off a cliff this fast. FUCK I thought that was him hitting that falsetto. Had to check the feature to find it was a female vocalist. Initially thought this was a “Gimme the Loot” scenario. I wish it was at this point because this is an awful song. Algerian 80’s prom music hit hard in 1999. It is the night where I realize that there is more than an hour left with Khaled. Whatever deity we’re going for here. May they guide my voyage with minimal trauma. Cyndi Lauper’s “True Colours” played in the clubs of Algiers? Off to a bad start. We’re doing “Imagine?” Christ. I am so bad with different languages (not great with English either) but I can’t even figure out which word is “Imagine.” This is NOT for me. This song has a nice message, but between that COVID celebrity cover and the general overplaying over the past half-century, I just don’t care. Starsky & Hutch’s Algerian equivalent Mahmoud & Zayd. Who will play “Huggy Bear??” Yeah so this is an extended 70’s TV opener and it is ten thumbs down. Back to the discotheque. Although it seems like a club on maybe a Tuesday evening. Late. Somebody is sweeping. There are a few desperately lonely regulars looking for the bottom of their drink. When the weird DJ scratching part comes on, that’s last call. For the bar, and potentially this album. The final minute plays until power is shut off. Early. It’s been a difficult year. It seems like nobody wants to party anymore. The thought fades with the final riverboat piano riff and into the warm Algiers eve. What can I even say about this? The bass is growling pretty good underneath, but man this just isn’t for me. I can say it a thousand ways but the bombast and pop sensibilities just suck. Too many instruments that don’t fit. The guitar and woodwind (?) solos near the end ain’t half bad, but the return to the dumb clap stomp chorus is where I seek the skip button. Never to be found, as I am a completionist. UGHHHHHHHHH. Terrible. Terriblé, if you will. These are certainly running together for me. This one is giving a Las Vegas vibe near the end. Or at the very least, Señor Burns. El Bab. The Bab?? See I know Spanish. No. It’s the most current thing on here. To 1999 that is. Obviously. Anyway. God, this sucks. I am so incredibly bored. Numb at this point. Why, you may wonder. Well, the same vocal tone for starters. Seemingly the same inflections and it begins to become grating. I have the disadvantage of not being able to understand the lyrics and the horns are so obnoxious. That’s a start. Whoa. Stand-up bass highlighted. A little too marimba-y. Noooo. We were in the pocket. Now we’re back. I can’t do this, man. Painful. Is this the jingle that the channel “Showcase” uses? Perhaps before episodes of Trailer Park Boys? Why does every song need to be interminable? That’s the real question. I forget that I’m on the same one half the time. Arena hype music. THIS POWERPLAY IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE ALGERIAN TOURISM BOARD AND OF COURSE, BY EAST SIDE ABDUL’S. PIZZA HAS NEVER BEEN SO HALAL. This sucks. Oh good. An Arabic version of C’est La Nuit. We need to hear that “It’s Nighttime” in every language on earth. Let’s do it Khaled. Start learning Swahili brother. This was a slog. A collection of relics from the 70’s mixed with more artifacts thankfully left un-excavated by much of the music I consume regularly. The same tones, the same horns ad nauseam for what feels like an eternity. An album written for others and that’s the worst way to approach music creation. I am once again ensnared in the purgatorial mire fiendishly concocted by the nerd or nerds responsible for assembling this hellish list. I looked it up. This is Khaled’s TWENTIETH album. What in the sweet hell are we doing? Even RYM hates it. This is a personal pick based on some dumb spiritual retreat trip where he had a layover in Algiers or something. An album that started with a bang and could’ve very easily ended with several more bangs as I discharge a firearm into the device that played this thing. Thankfully I don’t own firearms, but I do own two ears and a supposedly functioning brain, making “Kenza” an arduous trudge that leaves me limping into Wednesday. Bottom of the proverbial barrel and top of the steaming heap. May my journey be eased through the rest of the week. 0-0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Aalach Tloumouni (Alimony???*GULP* Errrrm, better call my lawyer??)

Jurassic Park 5. No movies. I thought there were no movies here. I can’t watch the dinosaurs. It’s too early. I specially the fifth installment. Do the dinosaurs open a prehistoric human park? That might be an interesting take. Well if it’s not a movie, I genuinely have no idea what this is. I am so incredibly tired today. I believe that in an attempt by the powers that be to monetize every aspect of my life, I have finally succumbed to whatever brain damage has been inadvertently caused by the cheap/addictive ingredients in everything. At least I’ll fade into the static abyss listening to another of “one of the most essential albums to ever be reased.” It’s not a reggae album is it? Oh no. This might just be an intro. Let us pray. Oh it’s a rap album. An entire triceratops worth of relief has washed over me. I mean the radio announcer voice guy needs to hang up the microphone forever, but this song is fine. There he is again. That voice needs to go. It’s not good. Based on these lyrics, I’m worried I’m not mistaken in assuming this crew is indeed one of the “corny-ass” variety. Chorus is bottom 5 of all time. A few of the rappers have good deliveries, but the lyrics are terrible so far. Beat is more what I’m interested in, but we’re in the lyrical miracle zone big time. I don’t know if it’s the brain damage, but this puppy sounds like rap written for a rapper that has a small part in a teen movie. “A Day at the Races” was in something. I don’t know what though. Master Blasters mentioned. Kevin Nash seething. I’m just not getting into this at all. This sounds slightly cooler, but everything feels so generic. Best song so far though. What’s Golden is not a question posed by these young fellas, but rather a statement. The verbal Herman Munster. Alright. I’m done. THIS SUNDAY, A RAP ALBUM SO BAD, COMMON HAS ASKED FOR A FEATURE 14 SEPARATE TIMES. We’ll settle for Nelly Furtado following this dope giving us a “lesson in friendship.” The movie trailer voice is really the issue. Another slog through the most mid rap ever released. Dad’s riffing off of a sugar hill gang beat. Well after another forgettable track/interlude, we get an eerie beat on “One of Them.” Immediately ruined by testosterone supplement commercial man. The other rappers help a little bit, but I think they’re making fun of intimidating rap. Oh my god they’re making fun of guys saying “fuck the police.” Jeeeeeez. Hey. We’re just 5 dads and uncles trying to get you out to a party. The party that’s the place to be, there won’t be guns, but we will be rapping the whole time. Anyway, we are also going to sing THIS song about it and hire a nameless feature to repeatedly whisper “Hey” in the most despicable fashion as we go to the party. So how many tickets can I put you down for. Hey? Hey. I AM somebody ok? This is like that James Brown/Afrika Bambaataa song. PEACE, LOVE, UNITY, AND HAVING FUN. Well we got an elephant sample. No rapping. Best song by a country mile. It’s still a huge sampling mess but hey, no “my mind is minefield where I play Minecraft in a raft, call me shaft. I write lyrics in space, can’t you see my face, I’m winning the race, brace, yourselves for a rockin’ MC a man who’s in the place to be, with me a ha ha ha.” That’s this whole thing. This thing isn’t offensive. To anybody. It does all it can to offend absolutely nobody. I find that in itself to be a grievous offence. I can’t even really put my finger on exactly why it’s so bad. Probably the brain damage. The quotables made me cringe rather than get excited. I mean I do love a good cringe here and there, but this hurts. These lyrics man. Nothing clever. If this came out in 1986, I’d be marvelling at the beat and it would probably be a lot of fun, but two thousand bloody two??? We are almost a decade removed Ready to Die at this point. You guys talk about how rap is bad when they talk about guns and drugs, but those rhymes are a million times better than whatever this is. At least drug rap has clever wordplay and is a reflection of some kind of heavy experience. “Power in Numbers” is an album that is ABOUT writing words that rhyme in a sleep inducing fashion. The power in numbers, hey? Well get ready for a Jurassic 1 (star). 1 HIGHLIGHTS: Acetate Prophets, “One of Them” had a good beat! I wish it was one of the songs they were attempting to criticize.

Metal adjacent? Oh buddy. I have never really listened to ministry as it seemed like NIN for goths and I like neither of those things. To hear some angry music though? Man. Grab my eyeliner and colour me excited. My parents are very worried about my new friends and have enlisted a social worker to talk about my new feelings. Ministry. Play me through this new development. The fix is in brother, when you’re NWO, you’re NWO 4 Life. Hook that opening to my veins. I listen to metal all the time, but listening to it in the context of this list feels exhilarating. Almost experiencing it anew. The repetition works in the songs favour. The vocals are a little bark-y and remind me of what Korn would later emulate. Take that as you will. Sample rules. This is the exact song I would despise if it came out in 2002, but 1992? This thing is a screamer. Rife with energy and blazing a trail directly through the dense underbrush of the musical realm. Order of arrival matters and this appears to have gotten to this spot before most mainstream metal. Good song. Even with the stolen Slayer riff part way through. Brings to mind early Macabre, which I never thought I’d say in these reviews. I’ve thought plenty of macabre things listening to these albums, but hearing some heavily compressed, metallic tremolo picking? Beautiful. Hmmm. I like the speed, but I have to stop grading this on a curve. This is not a song I would listen to. I’m excited that it’s metal, but this is pretty mid tier thrash with lame coliseum vocals. Jerry Lee Lewis was the devil. That intro was dumb as shit. Not funny, not even weird. Just dumb. Of course this was the hit. Honk honk binga bing bing bong awooga. A monumental failure and a further indictment of the general public’s intelligence level. Uh. Sorry. I meant wah wah dingy ding dong. A brain deadener followed by an absolute slog. Eight minutes with no good ideas. Perfect. How the decent have fallen. This influenced the nu-metal movement so much. Even the way the “69” repeats. I hear Fred Durst. This exact riff is done so much better by a 1000 death metal bands. It’s an excellent riff though. Can’t really get tired of it. Love a good takedown of religion. Fun song. I kind of like the noise element of “Corrosion.” Hits the ear right but doesn’t have enough “oomph” for me. Now this guy has me talking in onomatopoeia. I need to get out of here. Again, more noise. Interesting finish, but I don’t know if we needed this twice. The closer was far better in my opinion, but yeah that was one track stretched into 2. A complete conundrum in some ways and an open book in others. The energy was there and the rage was palpable. This album oozes a slimy, unctuous distaste for society and all of its ills and while the commentary lacks a certain incisiveness, the overall atmosphere cuts to the heart of the issue. A few clangers to be sure, but a few really good tracks and a misanthropic buzz leave me with an itch at least relatively scratched. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: N.W.O., Just One Fix, TV II, Psalm 69

The lead singer of Death once wore a Blondie shirt, making this band one of the “acceptable” pop acts to enjoy for adult children in YouTube comment sections who say things like “Horns from South Dakota 🤘” or whatever. I mean I’ve heard the hits and it sounded like run of the mill pop to me. Reading the track list, there are some recognizable ones in here, so hook that hair dye into my meninges and let’s get on that telephone, brother, err sister. I started to write that I feel bad, but why should I feel bad for not liking this? The chorus is fine, but the vocal pattern in the verses induces motion sickness. Corny. I don’t know if it’s the remaster, but this sounds so flat. Also I’ve heard this a million times in what feels like every movie ever, and I hate the growling female vocal. It’s drunk karaoke. The instrumental break that you never hear is actually pretty cool. It would be nice to hear these untarnished, but it sounds like she needs to clear her throat and I can’t escape the montage(s) in my mind. Nice start to “Picture This.” Simple pop song, sweet sound, better vocals. Ugh except when she gets shouty, but otherwise, nice little “chune” as the English may say. Cool opening. Very cool. It’s kind of going nowhere. It’s dawned on me that someone born in 1955 would’ve been 23 when this came out. They’d turn 70 this year. Time is wild. Ended up being a boring song. I’m not falling in love with this song. It’s so generic and bland. Is this an 8-but Rush cover? The fact that this riff is even bringing Rush to mind makes it the best thing going. Is this Carpathian Forest? I like the synth. Not bad. Not great. Will anything happen? That is the real question. Nah this hasn’t been that boring. This song however? Well, YOU be the judge. Wait. This is my opinion. Yes. It’s boring. Ooh I like the upper register vocals here. Is that falsetto? Whatever. This is a sweet, 50’s-esque pop song that I quite like. Oh whoa another hit. I forgot about this song. I like it. Always have. That higher vocal she does is so much more captivating than the honky tonk bar growl that so many bad vocalists co-opted moving forward. Excellent track. This isn’t too bad. It’s kind of silly. I would never advertise that I listen to this in any way shape or form because it is super dumb. I don’t hate it though. Except the riverboat piano underneath. And the somehow farm-based chorus. Clear your throat. Go away?? Jeez I’m sorry blondie, you don’t have to clear your throat. Shut up? I suppose I’ve been so mean to so many artists, ol Debbie is putting me in my place. Well, I’m not going anywhere Blondie. This sounds like some drunk former musicians playing in a garage. I’m filing a noise complaint. And with the arrest of the pompadour brothers on the right, we fade into the silence of forever. I await Monday, where I can expect another steaming pile of album to be slid into my now empty trough. Oh I have to sum up Blondie. Uhhh. It was fine. There were moments that surprised me with how interesting they were and then there was also a heap of underwhelming songs featuring surprisingly awful vocals. This album falls in the “ok” category. Nothing terrible, but certainly nothing special in my humble opinion. You can’t be humble if you say you are. Ugh. Whatever. Let’s move on from this. My fingers grow weary of typing about this album. It initiated more spills than thrills and without the invention of rap on “RAPture,” I don’t know if I can say I had a good time. Hanging myself with the telephone. See you Monday. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Picture This, I Know But I Don’t Know, Sunday Girl, Heart of Glass

Alan Greenspan’s side project? Who even is Alan Greenspan? My mind is a kaleidoscope of unfinished references. I can’t imagine this one will go my way today. I also don’t know why the text is dripping down the wall. I think it’s a 1972 graphic design attempt at graffiti. Mission accomplished fellas. Now hit it, Al. Oooh this was a sample somewhere. This song is mostly boring. Not my genre. Music to be played in the background at gentrified coffee shops. I’m asleep. I am dreaming of a musical album that was created for the purpose of releasing a real emotion and was not intended to be put on the shelf next to other music like a product. This one tries to wake me up. The music is fine. I can’t hate it, I just don’t really care. What is this feeling? It’s apathy. Al-Pathy™️. Actually. I don’t trademark it. You can have it, Al. Call your fans the Al-Pathetics. Sell merch. Holy hell this is even sleepier. I don’t know if it’s because I waited until later in the day, but yeesh. I’m just spent. Old time boredom. We’re attempting to wake up. The bass is nice here. The stereo backing vocals scared the shit out of me for some reason. So. I’m big time jacked now. Al is a virgin. Oh wait. LIKE you do. I see. Well, virgin or not, this song is fine. I like the weird fast talking part. That seems different. But this is a sway song. I’m sure some people have really good or bad memories associated with this. I just hear an attempted prom song. Oh hey. Poor Judy. Why do you have to sing directly to a person via a mass release? Are all these songs about Judy? Why isn’t the album called Judy? Or Songs for Judy? Nobody says, “meeting my girlfriend was a real hip thing” anymore and that’s the real tragedy here. It ain’t too much fun to me either, Big Al. Take us home. I know everybody really liked the “Guardians of the Galaxy” soundtrack. It was different for the time, and it accompanied the well-received blockbuster film in an interesting way. At least that was the perception while the marvel franchise still had goodwill with the populace. It seems like everybody hates them now, but who’s keeping track? I never really liked the playlist and it dragged worse with each passing summer, having to hear the same 70’s pop/soul songs everywhere. This is a collection of songs that would fit right at home on that list, and I felt the same exasperation during Al Green’s plea to stay together. Tracks that may have hit stronger in 1972, are now sappy love songs that are completely arid after being milked dry for 50 years. None of these songs are “bad” per se, but the album just has nothing strong to offer me in 2025. It’s a listenable album and that’s what it was designed to be, but listenable and passive music is not why I’m here. Hey Al?Maybe we should see other people. It’s not you. It’s me. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: One big chunk of mediocrity.

I’m so ready. Maybe not to die, but sweet Jesus to listen to this album. There is no chance this doesn’t get a 5, but will the graphic fellatio interludes and constant reminder of “Puff Daddy” render this one into the dreaded “no longer a five” territory?? We’ve had our lyrical miracle street disciple hour with the Jurassic 5 and now, let’s take a turn to the much darker. After the intro of course. I ain’t doing a “blow by blow” on the birth scene. Being born “ready to die” is quite the comment though. Just the beginning. Let loose the best opening salvo in hip hop history. A “back in my day” track rattles out of the starting gate, which you’d think would be a negative. The wordplay, the tone, and the beat. Incredibly good. Had me wondering in my very white, suburban neighborhood why things have indeed changed. Good lord. It’s the greatest. The meanest, toughest mainstream rap song ever released. The true classic from this album. Angry, despondent, yet so so fun. A billion quotables and with that incredibly cool vocal variation and sample. One of the best ever put to tape. Isuzu mentioned. Perfection topped off with a mediocre automobile. This beat is incredibly hard. The sirens and the highly insensitive but so very catchy, Tina Turner interpolation bump up the coolness and odd humour aspect. It’s so extreme that it gets funny at times. I can’t be effusive enough with praise for this song. Even the repetition doesn’t wear itself out. The storytelling is incredible. I’ve heard it many times and I still hang on every word. Also. Might to inquire with the SPCA about the gunpowder dogs. Biggie. Come on now. Start the slow singing and leave the poor German canines alone. Perfect. Well. Except the inclusion of ol’ P Diddy, but at the time, things were relatively unknown. Can’t let him ruin this song. For what it’s worth, his parts are pretty great. This song is another gem in the crown. Biggie sez: When it comes to sex, I’m similar to a boxing match. I assume that means he will punch you and it will last 1-12 rounds? Who knows. I hate sex songs, but he’s simply too likeable and the beats and wordplay are just so fun. Even when he describes personal hygiene. Help me. Oh no. I think somebody is hurt. There is a bumping noise and a woman sounds in pain. Somebody help. The racism roleplay interlude has passed. We have survived. Mr. Cheese. It appears that you’re a rapper now. What a feature. Crazy that it’s pretty much the only one. Despite the lack of respect for pretty much every group of people, this one rules too. I always thought Biggie predicted 9/11 with that line. Anyway. This is overplayed but still fantastic. Such an excellent beat and lyrics that read like a triumph in amongst the dismay of the rest of the album. It certainly has the most pop sensibility so far, but the delivery doesn’t let up, nor does the writing. It’s almost like people don’t talk about Notorious B.I.G’s suicidal themes in his music. People dismiss rap as being about boasting or glorifying a gang lifestyle. Listen to this. Er what did he say about her dad?? This song is kind of romantic? I guess. Not my favourite here. The most popular, most west coast song on the album, and therefore, the very worst song on the album. If it wouldn’t be out of place on “The Chronic,” it’s probably boring. This feels like somebody told Biggie to make at least one hit. The least personality and almost no presence of the rapper’s unique voice to be found on “Big Poppa.” Excellent beat, thrilling intro/chorus vocals, and ultimately, a return to form after the club departure of the previous track. And then simulated fellatio. Or it’s an ad for popsicles. We can all hope. Good song. Decent is probably a better descriptor. Fine. Holy hell. A real deep track winner. The delivery is violent and persistent. Just a really solid hip-hop song. Tell god I said “this song is really good.” And here we go. The official final track. I of course will be listening to “Who Shot Ya” but not until we hear another admission of misery and a real show of depth. I’ve always wondered why music like this appealed to suburban white kids. I think in some surface-level cases, it’s a fetishization of a life that seems exciting and full of danger as opposed to the relative “boredom” and safety of middle class life. For me, sure, there is an element of sensationalism, but what it comes down to is hearing someone who can eloquently describe the feelings of being in a place seemingly consumed by fear, anger, and poverty. The emotions are a point of relatability to a situation that many of us are lucky enough to not have any direct experience with. Of course there are elements of boasting and glorification, but I’ve always found the macho posturing and foreboding lyrics/sounds an illustration of morbid thoughts unsaid. Relatable for anybody who has experienced any helplessness, fear, anger, sadness etc. you just have to dig past the surface. From start to finish, the beats, the lyrics, the humour, the emotion make this a joy to listen to. Popsicle ads and all. Who the fuck is this, paging me a five star album at 10:59 in the morning. Send the gunpowder dogs after those who deny. And somebody keep those fuckers away from the pentagon. Can’t have those monsters harnessing the power of the ShotWeillers. 5 HIGHLIGHTS: Things Done Changed, Gimme the Loot, Machine Gun Funk, Ready to Die, The What, Everyday Struggle, Suicidal Thoughts

Wilco? More like WON’T go!! Up top. Give me a high five. No? Why not? Is it because I made a bad joke via typed review? Or is that nobody is reading? That would be tough either way. I’m hurt. I’m glad this looks sappy as all get out. Maybe this is David Wilcox’s emotional return from “Do the Bearcat.” Only one way to find out. Google. It is not David Wilcox. Onwards and hopefully, upwards. Whoa. I was listening to grindcore before this and the opening was kind of a good transition point. Following the buzz, the melody is kind of nice. Not a huge fan of the piano but this song is decent. Repetitive, but interesting. The last two minutes are actually the best part. Now to the modern country part. Here’s the catch. It’s not abhorrent modern country. It is kind of nice. If you said to me, “hey, we’re going to be hearing some mid 90’s country,” I would’ve passed clean out. Fortunately, this song is actually quite good. Sounds like a genuine expression. Good stuff. Oh what the hell. Oh. Never mind. I thought we were getting a full didgeridoo song. A little too upbeat here. A Ska song by Bryan Adams feat. Ryan Adams feat. Bon Jovi. Deliver me from this cursed chant. Thy lyric cast unto me a wicked spectre whom I cannot elude. My days fade with each passing trip to Tallahassee. I wish to reach the snow but I am dragged down to this wretched panhandle once more. “Out of this pan” I shout. Deaf ears. This was better. Not great. Fine. This is a fun little country song. Much improved. Sweet melody, simple, with a nice little indie nerd flavour. Excellent. Red-Eyed and Blue ended up being a little boring. Grabbed my attention once. The words are interesting but other than that, a pass. Same-y riff time. This is veering back into the Bryan Adams shit. Wilco. My brother/sister/non-binary homie. This isn’t good. I’m worried about stock issues at “the world.” Not much in store here. Kind of fading in the middle here. This is a long one too. Jeez. Not a good start to “Say You Miss Me.” Too sappy. Attempted hit police have been called. Wilco, you are simply not pop enough to make a 90’s wedding country ballad. Please take your hands OFF of the acoustic guitar or we will use lethal force. Disc 2 autocorrected to “died 2.” That’s sort of how I felt when I saw that this puppy was 7 minutes long. I’ve always said, we have too much freedom as a society. The joke is, I don’t hate this song that much. Don’t say rock n’ roll so much. That is a heavy critique of this entire album to be fair. The weird dissonant guitar parts of this song are great. Hmm. I thought I hated this song, but I don’t. The guitar is way cooler, the banjo should replace the piano in every instance. I still hear that dumb riverboat riff trying to poke its head in there. Outta Mind was decent. The streak is ramping up a little bit. Nah, this is another attempted radio display. That’s strike 2 Wilco. Kingpin was super fun. The funk bass was out of left field and made for a different track. Were you in my dreams? No, Wilco. Last night I dreamt I saw a surfer get eaten by a shark from a raft in the sky that was taking the classic trip from eastern Australia to Halifax, Nova Scotia. So, no. Dreamy alt-country ballads did not appear. Why would you wanna (Live). Right?? Wilco is fine. Well. Maybe he’s not fine. Is he singing about his own parasocial relationship? Maybe he really loves David Wilcox and has attempted to meet him on stage. Dear David, I did the bearcat to your latest song. If you know what I mean. I can’t wait to see you through your hotel room at your next show. Keep an eye on the lights. You won’t feel a thing. Love, your biggest fan. Anyway. Let’s close it down with this song played in the jukebox at a soda jerk. Real boot-scootin’ time. Mid as hell closer. This album is a strange one. I was captivated by the atmosphere at times and dreading the next song at others. I think if this shaved 4-5 songs off or 20-35 minutes, we’d be talking about a nice little indie-country record. Instead, we’re looking at a decent but more than slightly bloated monster that could’ve been shaved down heavily. When I start writing about stalking David Wilcox or writing odd medieval tomes, you know something is either really great, or lagging a little bit. I’ll take the latter on “Being There.” While I didn’t want to be anywhere but there, I was certainly a little antsy to mosey my way on to the next one. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Forget the Flowers, Someday Soon, Kingpin

Well. This feels like one that I won’t like. The fact that I’m already stuck for words is not a good sign. I’m not a religious man, but I imagine I’ll feel as though I’ve been through the march to Golgotha after this one fades into the ether. This is one of the worst songs I’ve ever heard. So that’s a good start. A disgustingly thin production, annoying lyrics, whispered vocals leading up to terrible honky-tonk guitar solo? Sweet christ. Give me faith. See the whispering works way better on this song. I don’t really like the weird incestuous theme of the song, but after being ywaterboarded by “Faith,” this was a gasp of the fetid torture chamber air. Except it has gone on FAR too long. A 9 minute, 2 part epic with some god damn funkiness to lead off. Oh hell yeah. Oh hell no. I can’t with his vocal. Oh the platonic friends anthem. Hey, remember how I pretended to be friends with you? Yeah all those interests I pretended to have??? Yeah that was for the express purpose of accessing an orgasm with you vaguely present. Cool? Here, I wrote a song about it! Check it out. The alien freakout section around 2:30 would be so incredible in a song that’s more fun. Here, it’s an oasis in this desert of lameness. People who are this open about sex weren’t hugged as children. Prove me wrong. Next. Alright. The ballad is nicer. Strong vocals. Simple. Honestly, a good song. Hard Day? You’re telling me, George. From the Spotify tracks reading “From ‘Babygirl’” to actually listening to this thing, it’s been tough. Another stinkpile. Ugh. Latin infused darkness romp. Depeche (Easy) Mode. 10 years too late on this one. Better, albeit still far too poppy. This is just not for me. Monkey good. Oo Oo AH AH AH. My monkey brain likes the rhythm. My actual brain says that I’m bored. This one is like that other song that’s rhymes “do it and to it.” Relax! That’s it. Anyway. It’s fine. Monkey noise outro!!!!! Good. Some vocal jazz? A smoky club is clearing out, and yes, it’s because it’s overrun with chimps from the last song. They should’ve added several sound effects indicating that the loose monkeys were mauling the panicked concert goers. That’s what you get for thinking “Faith” would be good. The overarching church and religious theme is interesting. A commitment to a concept like that is not something I would expect with anything for the masses. Even the inclusion of organ on some tracks, the themes stayed on topic for much of it, which is admirable in a sense. Another admirable piece of this album is the musical variation. For a pop album, the percussion and instrumentation went everywhere. A lot of synth obviously, but it was layered with interesting percussion and strings throughout. Now let’s get into how I really feel. I don’t care about this. It’s pop for radio play and billboard charting which is not music to listen to in album format. I hated much of the lyrical content, the music was corny to my ear, albeit different, and I just didn’t gel with any aspect of this. Whoever this is for, it’s not me. Would not listen to again. Ever. I’m calling the adoption service. I need a new father figure. 1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: One More Try, Monkey (not a threat)

Paul McCartney left Wings?? He was the best one! One of the great Simpson’s quotes of all time perfectly encapsulates this ridiculous album cover and what I’m sure will be uhh music of some description. Allow me to fly upon the ample bosom of one Paul “MC Walrus” McCartney carried by the wind and of course the rest of this ensemble carrying my bloated body deftly across the breeze. Another movie montage song coming up. Beatles style. Am I allowed to say “Beatles” here? Maybe I’ll be on the run soon. This time, from the estate of John Lennon. Jokes aside, this song really heats up at the 1:30 mark or so and then dives into that lame verse and chorus we all know and hate. What are they on the run from? That bald guy centre right definitely has some skeletons in his closet. And the matching drivers licenses in his sock drawer. To be completely fair, I’ve heard far worse songs here. This is fine. This would make a great Buffalo Wild Wings commercial. Firstly. The band is called WINGS. Sold. Second. The song already sounds like a commercial. It has had the life PRE-DRAINED from it!! You can’t buy that kind of sterility. Finally, it has a member of the Beatles involved. Slap a motorcycle into an AI video generator and run that sumbitch at the Taquitos fiesta bowl halftime show or whatever. Sell all the Carolina Ghost Annihilator Ranch Dogs you can. I do love the buzzy bass here, but this was another fine one. Ho boy. Not the vibe. Whatever that scratchy instrument is has always been awful. Paul smoked what he thought was weed (oregano) at a resort in Cuba and bought the instrument for far too much money at a local market. Talk about a missile crisis! Yeah this song sucks. Ho. Hey Ho. Ho. Hey Ho. Yeah. More like HO HUM. Santana visits Санкт-Петербург. Back to the USSR with this one. Let YOU roll it?? What are your doobie credentials? I need to see a certificate from $w4g.com OR higher. No bullshit here Paul. Oh he’s talking about his heart being a wheel that he rolls towards somebody. And I thought my metaphors were laboured. This is end of dinner party at a suburban mansion type music. Deeply depressing somehow. The guitar part is kind of fun, but it’s just not for me. Mamunia is making me realize that every other song on this album has been pretty god damned good. This is a train wreck. The eternal 2020’s debate of cultural appropriation vs appreciation springs to mind. This is the bad one. Wake me up when this song is over please. Whoa. I’m up I’m up. Is this actually going to be a cool little folk-y ballad? Yeah I like this. Why does it have to change back to “Jet” halfway through UGH. Although, did you know; Picasso’s last words were not “Drink to Me.” It’s true. They were “I actually hate cubism, I just did it for the ‘tang.” Historians believed this outburst to be too crude to include in records and thus deferred to “Wings” as the official scribe(s). Oh no no no. “My little lady gets me high” is my cue to exit. I want to thank the good people at 1 million records .comp my favourite band camp webpage and of course the rascals down at dorchester max security. You guys keep me real. Big respect to Ringo. Not Starr, but my guy at the Cincinnati zoo who keeps me stocked with Giraffe kibble and gorilla chow. Great alternative to human food and FLUSH with vitamin K6. You haven’t heard of it… yet. I can imagine trees you haven’t dreamed of in your wildest fantasies. And I’ve had some wild tree fantasies. Of course, I wouldn’t be here without my man, my MAIN man, Akeem the African Dream. My rock. Jive on, my sweet soul brother. Play me off Paul. Or whomever is responsible for the Wings outro music. Get that guy in here. Man, finding the actual music review in this thing is like finding that one guy in your neighbourhood’s great uncle in the picture on the album cover. “Uhh yeah my PeePaw’s neighbour knew this guy who ran into the washboard player on tracks 1-4 of “Band on the Run.” Real nice guy.” Impossible! If you followed that or have even read this, may the most spiritual member of Wings come to you in a dream and bestow upon you mystic knowledge of a kingdom long forgotten. Alabaster sheen cascades inviting light upon its audience. The mortals gaze skyward; hopeful to be enrobed in its warming glow. Not enough time to panic. All consuming beams thirst for humanity. Unknown horrors carve sigils in the dessicated mortals, now too weak to comprehend mercy. The ritual of consumption continues. Life on earth ends, only to emerge amnesiac. Seek the light to return to dark. Anyway this album was mid. Dorkiness all around. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Picasso’s Last Words (Drink to Me)

FATS. One of the great names of all time. I wish this was “Fats on Fire” so I could see Fats on a fire truck. Ah hell. I’m going to google it. Haha. Nice. He’s on that thing. Well. It took way too long to find the correct listing of songs, but some good soul put them together in one playlist. Take it away Fat Man. This is way less fun than I hoped it would be. I don’t know if this is Fats Domino “Chopped & Skrewed,” but it feels like it’s trapped in Molasses. You ain’t nothing but a bundle of joy. They used to be so dismissive of women, did they not? Trying to find the words to describe this bundle of joy, without being disrespectful. Another fine song. Nothing crazy to report back here. Run of the mill 50’s rock. I’m not getting the energy from this vocal performance yet though. This one swings pretty hard. And in the wise worlds of Garfield the cat “We only hate Mondays because of what the world has been shaped into by the Industrial Revolution. A return to humanity would make Monday a beautiful day like any other, but instead, it signifies the chains that bind us to machines not of our own creation.” Or something like that. I could play drums on this album. The little saxophone solo is nice and chilled out though. Not too shabby. I hate La La La’s in pretty much everything. This is the whole song. Perfect. Nah he breaks into some verses. Pretty fun. Standard fare. We all have troubles. Fats is having trouble staying awake by the sounds of it. You’ve done me wrong Fats. This is getting worse before it gets better. Hopefully it does indeed do that. Oh my sweet lord. He teased me with some energy, and then fell right back asleep. It’s like the movie trope where the sleeping security guard almost wakes up. He dies in the verse. This is almost there though. I wanted “The Fat Man’s Hop” to sound way more, well, Fat. A stinker. This rhyme scheme is pretty pungent. Man what an annoying closer. I hate that the 1950’s has emerged as my most popular decade in this experiment. I think I can explain it by saying that there have been fewer albums from this period, we had Miles Davis in there, and the rest have been relatively simple and fun collections of music. Fats Domino almost falls into the final category there but he is doing just enough to irk me on this one. I do have to say, the man sounds comatose. At points he sounds like he’s being propped up in front of a teleprompter. There is barely any singing going on, and while I enjoy the slower, almost heavier, early rock tones; I just wish there was more vitality here. Some annoying tracks and a sleepy vocalist drag this one down into the early stages of mayhem. I’m sad. I wanted to love the Fat man. No fires to be put out here. Just a lukewarm plate of early rock and/or roll. Mostly roll. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Blue Monday, So Long

2009?!?! Nyahhh. That’s my typed attempt at a disappointed noise. Trying to mix it up on this frigid Tuesday morn. Why is this the worst time for music in my head? I feel like nothing was good. I don’t even hear about things that people liked from this time. It all feels sterile to me. Nevertheless, this looks indie or whatever, so maybe, just maybe the wild beasts can deliver something that makes me forget about Taio Cruz for one day. Boy George over a medical-grade sterile instrumental. Hmm. Well. This is bad. This is really bad. They’re trying for haunting, and it’s just coming off empty. A haunted house with nothing in it. A guy who forgot to put on his Leatherface mask and a clearly visible sign that this used to be a Future Shop. Oh these vocals are going to continue. That’s good. I love unique, insane vocals, but only when they’re, you know, not 100% terrible. This on the other hand takes all the worst aspects of Radiohead and Owl City and distills them into “Hooting & Howling.” I’m hooting this off the stage. Abysmal. Get your spelunking helmets on, folks. We dive ever deeper. With any luck, we’ll be rendered into ash by the heat of the earth’s core. Tinier Tim continues to test me over this stonecutters beat. My favourite part of the album so far (genuinely) is the singer naming towns in England. Geography hypes me up to endure more of this. What is even happening? And don’t take that as my feeble mind being bamboozled by the pure intellectual artistry that Wild Beasts have bestowed upon me. I know what I’m listening to. I just can’t believe it. Horrific. There’s the dumb Strokes riff that is obligatory in every dumb indie song. I like some indie music. I am in favour of some laboured, annoying white guy poetry. Here’s the thing. It has to sound good and have some level of emotion behind it. More vacancy. Hey. Guess what. The deep vocals are WORSE. This is the squires of Leon. You can have that. And with how much I hate the Kings of Leon, to say you’re worse is one of the worst insults I can muster. Please end this. This is the HALFWAY point??? At this juncture, I think I’d test my mettle against a pack of literal wild beasts. Perhaps I return as a master of all the natural world. I shall conquer what is unconquerable. I am learning resilience. I’m really glad we’ve switched to these vocals permanently. I was getting a little too comfortable. Another absolutely wretched song to end the mid-album trilogy. I wish I could say this was a mid album. This is so far down the well, we can’t even call for Lassie. Even colder play. Oh we’re back to warble city baby. Unbelievably awful. Did I talk about Empty Nest? This one made me mad. I have 2 minutes and 30 seconds left of this album. I am trying to formulate words. My mind has been stricken. I wish I could post a screenshot of this band’s logo in Spotify. It looks like WordArt upcycled into 2011. Which I suppose is the entire aesthetic of this album. It’s attempted Radiohead mixed with other lame indie music and it is truly awful. In attempt to lampoon the warble vocals, I was going to conjure classic Tim & Eric bit, “Casey & his Brother,” but that is an insult to an incredibly bizarre piece of mid 2000s comedy. This holds no ironic value, it holds me hostage for its 43 minute runtime. As it realizes the police won’t meet its demands, the pin clicks after the pull of the trigger. Firing blanks. Even though they’re completely toothless, I think we should euthanize the beasts. They’ve caused too much pain. I use a lot of hyperbole in these reviews/writing exercises. This is without a doubt one of the worst albums I’ve ever heard. If this isn’t the list maker’s band, this has no business being here. Derivative, embarrassing, and completely unlistenable. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Shawty’s like a Melody in my Head that is not very good actually, and I kind of wish I didn’t meet her at the mall, shopping with her friends or whatever. This album is Shawty.

Alright. Ok. Interesting. Big potential here. Well. Kind of big. I’ve heard about it the White Stripes and the danger of being overplayed is looming large over the darkened figures, uh, mugging? The band? After a hard zero out of England yesterday, let’s see if we can be liberated by the freedom fighters of the good ol’ US of A (not good or even really that ol’. worst country in the world by a land slide). Oh my sweet lord. Fuzz. I can’t believe every album here that has any substance of sound seems to get panned by the “WOUD NOISES SCARE ME” crowd, but it’s nice to hear some vitriol and punch. Solid. Did not expect this sound. Not sure if it’s a cover, but either way. A fun track. Another nice track. Hard to even discern highlights. Loving this so far. A classic. A hit. A touch overplayed, but that vocal bridge into the refrain. So fantastic. Send this man… to TOLEDO. NOOOOAHSHAHH PLEASE GOD NO. NOT TOLEDO. A beautiful track with a horrifying prospect. The strange yodel interlude didn’t even lose me. Can’t believe I haven’t explored White Stripes “deep tracks” further. The Union Forever?? Workers anthem. All my boys support Local 309. Random union number so I don’t know if it’s like international clowns united or whatever. This song is like Indie Black Sabbath. Incredible, well, until the a capella part. Still a haunting close. Yeah this song is the best so far. The one slight misstep for me. Just a little boring. Not bad by any means, but a little bit if a reminder that real life exists on this journey through excellent music. Oh hell yeah. Napoleon Dynamite intro. Despite being 5 when this puppy dropped, this is in my exact wheelhouse. A pretty song, with a fun association. I’ll ignore the one lip smack because this is a classic. The almost western elements to so many of the riffs works so well. Creates another fantastic atmosphere here. A little more indie/Radiohead peering through here. Not as much my speed but still super likeable. We are nowhere bad. Oh the Planet Caravan voice effect. Allow me to hit this comically large bong that is rigged into the piping of my home. I don’t even need it to enjoy this thing. Who do you think you are?? Huh?? Huh?? I’m very demanding today. I’m all amped up on terrible coffee that hits the tastebuds like a shot of whiskey. Oh and this album. Whoa. Another country tinged song. Honestly, a little thin. Of course I’m always honest, but my writing proficiency is dwindling as time marches on. I’m sure I’ll be stricken with illiteracy as soon as our brains are mined to produce endless profit for 150 despots in 5 years or so. We’re so close to the promised land! Another spaghetti western accompaniment. Can I still say that? Doesn’t it just mean “directed by an Italian?” So can I call movies directed by white people “Gentrification Comedies?” Maybe “School Shooter Period Pieces.” We’ll workshop it. And the piano plays us off. A decent closer with some excellent vocals. How can two people make something this heavy that isn’t purely metallic? While not perfect, at times it’s Sabbath run through a 2000s indie filter with flourishes of poetic brilliance. This shows that you can be the 3 I’s: intellectual, interesting, and introspective (Sorry Mr. Angle, copyright infringement) while still playing the living hell out of your instruments. Don’t go quietly into that art rock album, posers. Put this in your comically large bongs, smoke it and exhale the billow into the annals of the hall of classics. There it will linger until I damn well say so. 4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground, Fell in Love With a Girl, Expecting, Union Forever, We’re Going to be Friends, Offend in Every Way, Aluminum

I’ve sought this one out before. All the lonely internet people LOVE guys who died young. People who live to old age are unintellectual LOSERS. Right guys? Gee I wonder why suicide rates are up. Anyway, I remember really enjoying this album despite the mental illness fetishization that has happened in the intervening 53 years since the initial rise of the Pink Moon. Let’s revisit this ode to mysterious depressed dudes with my hater hat ™️ firmly atop my thinning hair and critique this to high heaven. Beautiful song. Gentle vocals, (albeit a little loud in the mix) and an excellent song structure. This one is a repeated listen for me. Has varied and wholesome guitar sections with the trademark vocals. Another hoss. A kinder, gentler hoss. Each song is so memorable. Here’s another one. It’s not like I listened to this yesterday but it feels as though it’s my 30th listen. Not in the way that it’s repetitive or boring, but in the way that it feels like I’m being greeted by a familiar pleasant sight or scent. “Which Will” has induced goosebumps. The first time in a little bit from any song during this album experiment. This is what so many indie songwriters attempt to capture and simply can’t. Some people are special. Most aren’t. This individual appears to be in the former category. A sparse and chilling instrumental break. Not my favourite song here but not near poor. Another nice acoustic songwriter moment. A little bland. Humming over a guitar riff is slightly overdone at this point and I’m sure it was even at the time of release. Not unpleasant, but just there for me. I am the parasite of THIS town. Well. Not really. I just like to crawl around all crazy-like and wear shirts that say “I DRINK BLOOD AT CRAZY RANDY’S PLASMA DUMP.” That’s kind of what this song says to me. This is almost upbeat but still somehow so morose. Nick Drake gets catchy. Despite the greatest band name ever AND the opening god damn track of Guitar Hero 3, Foghat, wishes they wrote Free Ride over the monster that is, Slow Ride. WE ARE HARVEST BREED AND THIS SONG IS CALLED DISINTERRED FROM THE BARREN SOIL OF HADES. That’s my impression of a gardening based beatdown hardcore band. Nick Drake DID NOT say that. He wrote another nice song that has a lovely crepitating acoustic line through its brief runtime. What a closer. Absolutely gorgeous. One unique voice and an acoustic guitar is all that’s needed to explore melancholy to a deep, yet manageable level. No compromises were made on Pink Moon, and I leave feeling a little drained, yet fully at peace. As long as we’re not cheering and hooting at the gallows for the miserable, I can get behind this eloquent capturing of often elusive emotions. Nick Drake produced a moment in time to be remembered forever here. Truly the place to be. 4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Pink Moon, Place to Be, Which Will, Free Ride, From the Morning

Two Bob Dylan albums already and an average rating of 1. A 2 and a 0. Perfect. Thrilled to see another one. I am genuinely enthused that this predates 1970 because this feels like it could be his actual prime. I will withhold the rest of my preexisting Bob opinions until they have been challenged or confirmed by the B man bringing it all back home. Take it away poetry grandpa. Like any good youngster, I first heard wind of this song through a Weird Al video. Hey man. This was actually good. I often use “subterranean” in reference to albums that suck. This was a good song. Fun phrasing throughout, cool lyrics. Not sure if I’d call him the greatest poet of our time or whatever, but it was at least interesting. His voice is too bad to not be surrounded by more stuff. This is too bare. Don’t need the Bob Dylan coffee house set. This is a pass. Hey. We all hate labour. Get outta here Maggie. And your dimwit brother too. Me and my new pal Bob are basing our entire personalities around leather jackets and reading hack poetry, so we don’t have time to be scrubbing your dumb brick window anymore. This song speaks to a sentiment that continues to bubble to the surface in modern society. As poignant today as it was then. Maybe more so. Despite my distaste for secretly conservative dude bros who co-opt “Dylan-isms” to pick up dumb women; this is an essential track. Hmm. They say quality skips a track on this album. Well. I’m saying that. This song is boring and too focused on bad vocals. It’s fine, but not what I’m here for. Whoa we’re getting’ wild now. Take that hippies, this guitar is through an amp. I get why they didn’t like it as much. It’s a pretty stark departure. Decent track. I see a giraffe and he doesn’t know the time. Ask the ancient phantom, spin from rime. The duchess and her hat, says “how about that?” Ah and the prince, he’s starting to get a little fat. *SCREECHING HARMONICA* Where’s my Pulitzer? Alright Bob. It wasn’t THAT funny. Bob Dylan’s 115th dream EVER??? He was 24. Truly rare. This is a cool song. Somewhat narrative based is better than the typical “Mary bought the farm; look at the sleeves on my arm” brand of “poetry.” Some very interesting lyrics here. Too long, but overall a fun highlight. Nah. This is not a great one. The departure from electric Bob is surprisingly unwelcome. Hey. Mr. tambourine Man. Some of us are trying to sleep over here. Cut the shit. Eden? Are we sure? Is this not Hades? Sometimes the guys who lean into the poetry shouldn’t do music. This is what this song feels like. There are no truths nor is there any justice in this song. Song is bad, poem is worse. Now this is an interesting poem. Also a bad song, but I’ll call it like I see it. Even though I find him unbearably pretentious, this is excellent writing. To me. Once again, like any art, poetry is completely subjective. This one speaks to me throughout. Good track for this reason alone. NOOO PLEASE DONTAHHHHH. Oh. It’s fine. He came in REAL LOUD. I was scared is all. Folksy expressions aside, we leave with a whimper. Not horrible, not great, just fine. I have a complicated view of Bob Dylan. On one hand, I begrudgingly like some of his stuff and I hate the idea of rushing to heap praise on one of the most overrated musicians to ever strap a harmonica to a guitar. On the other hand, he does some things that I genuinely hate. For starters, the singing here is better than it was in other efforts, but it’s still detracting heavily from these songs. For what he lacks in technical ability, he also lacks in likability. It’s grating. Now, the poetry. Hit or miss in every instance. More misses than hits for me. I think if you look at the typical guy obsessed with Bob Dylan, it gives you an excellent idea of the intellectual depth and quality of the poetry. I’ll leave that up to your interpretation. You know how if you’re a middle of the road singer and a middle of the road actor, you do musical theatre? Maybe middle of the road poets and middle of the road musicians do average folk rock? That’s where this sits for me. A middling album that sparkles at times, only to be let down by the hubris of its own creator. See you down the road, Bob. This ain’t over between us. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Subterranean Homesick Blues, Maggie’s Farm, Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream, It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)

Icelandic alien music and it’s not even Bjork. What a treat. Just a big ol angel alien fetus on the cover. Or possibly, just a normal guy with a big head. The oversized cranium community is seething at my betrayal. His head is TOO big guys. He looks extraterrestrial. That doesn’t mean he looks MORE terrestrial either. Moving swiftly on, I have no earthly idea (or otherwise) what this is. Spin us a yarn oh alien jesus and may we climb aboard your intestinal spaceship to the cosmos. Ambient. This could be cool. Just a wee intro to start, but not hating it. Is it too late to say I’m not qualified for this in any way? Listen, this thing is long and I was hoping for more ambient, less of this voice. I don’t hate it, but I’m not all that interested and the vocal hook is dreadful. I don’t care about this. I think this is for production nerds. It’s not the melancholy that speaks to me. It sounds like the background of a video that precedes a TedTalk of dubious merit. There are elements of intrigue, sure, but there is also a pomp that I’m not into. Intellectual music for Disney adults. Besides that caustic jab, I’m liking the outro to each song more than the content of the tracks so far. This is a cool instrument. Played in an interesting way to start. Oh my god is this the Linkin Park singer? It’s horrible. Chester Beddingsòn. I’VE BECOME SO NUMB. This is so incredibly bland. I would love to hear this album without vocals. These are truly painful. Outro?? It’s once again very cool. Use this stuff!! Stop singing. Genuinely my favourite 2:30 of the entire album. Beautiful, haunting, cold. Alright. I was really mad when the vocals came in, but they stayed in that super high register which continued to expand this song. This one is bursting at the seams. Raise the doors. The wind Beckons me into the desolate cold. With that beautiful aberration out of the way, we can return to the needlessly grandiose feat Reykjavik Park. Get away from the mic sir/ma’am/singer. Too close. You’re trying to be all meaningful. Another cool outro. These song closes are the true star(s) of the show. If this list has taught me anything, it’s that I really don’t like piano in rock music. This is hold music. This brings to mind a vaguely dilapidated hotel that was once considered upscale. Not my aesthetic. I just don’t care about this. It didn’t even have vocals for most of it and it still sucked. The end was better again, but still couldn’t save this one. This high range vocal is the best thing going on the album. Where does this even come from? Why are they jerking me around with horrible piano ballads and lousy singing to them produce a melody and atmosphere like this? That almost makes me more mad. This is a beautiful song. Until the last 3 minutes or so. Sounds like the end of a children’s Christmas movie. Way to ruin it. This sucks. An interesting note or two from the vocalist, but I’d like to see this piano dropped off of a roof. Maybe it’d hit a cartoon rabbit or something and he’d come up with piano keys for teeth. Solid closer. Very cool instrumental. Thank you for not singing. Your contributions will be noted and are most certainly, appreciated. Before anything, I want to say that intellectualism is important. I don’t want to dismiss the pursuit of expanding your mind, or learning the past. Smart people should be celebrated; however, smart people are more rare than we are led to believe, and like anything, intellectualism has been packaged and sold to a populace dying to feel like they’re special. Why mention this? I think people consume art with the objective of wanting to feel smart. Sure, some albums scratch that intellectual itch, but this album?It’s slowed down pop music. Very little on it is abrasive and it’s rarely challenging. Not that music has to be challenging and intellectual all the time, but when this album is stripped of it’s cult status, and the Icelandic, the music is just… there. That’s it. The word “meh” comes to mind. In fairness, I wasn’t bored, I wasn’t begging for the end, but I found the vocals and piano to be so poorly done. I was able to mine more inspiration in the quiet moments that surrounded the crater left by the vocals in most cases. One absolute 5 star song amongst a field of mediocrity. At times, the mediocrity was grating. Back in the spaceship. No intelligent life detected. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Ný Batterí, Avalon

Ugh. Well. I know the title track is a big stink pile, but this was bound to happen. Every self-proclaimed music fanatic’s favourite pop icon. I am prepared to be a hater as always. More pop for dimwits to intellectualize? Most likely. J Geils band type beat. Wasn’t this song actually something else? Flashback? Feed down? Whatever. Something. This is dog shit. But he’s cool right??? Garbage radio pop with a token guitar solo. I’m sure I’ll be going crazy by the end of this. OH THE SONG IS FREEZE FRAME. He actually stole from the J Geils band. Man. You could’ve stole from anybody, and you picked a slightly worse redux of “Freeze Frame.” This should be one hell of a ride. Esoteric Dungeon Synth featuring Cyndi Lauper. It deescalates into a super boring song with a big violin backer. He sounds asleep. 0 for 2. Man. I expected to be lampooning this album for being radio pap, but this is something far more dire. This is a shy boy with no musical talent whispering into his iPhone so as to not wake his disappointed mother. This is almost punk in how bad it is. If it wasn’t delivered with such a depressing earnestness, it would be kind of campy. Oh no. He’s gettin’ fired up. He doesn’t care that he’s waking mom up. He’s going to be a star. I do like some of the screeching, but we were too far gone to start. Ok, Computer (Blue). All roads lead to Radiohead. This one is at least kind of fun, but it’s still stupid. About 1:30 of song followed by a lame guitar solo that sounds like the closing credits of a bad anime. This is a joke album. I’ve decided. The greatest prank ever pulled. It’s a brilliant takeoff on the state of pop music. These lyrics are terrible. Considering they’re front and centre along with light drumming, they’re kind of hard to ignore. With different lyrics, this would be better. Alas, we don’t live in that alternate universe and unfortunately “Nikki” has “ground” this one to a halt. Think of Milhouse. Think of Milhouse. That’s not just to distract me from the frequent use of the word “grind” to describe sex. Michael Jackson “hee hees” aside, this vocal hook is grating to me and the music is nothing. Lyrics are, again, terrible. But let’s ride it into the ground. Prince? You would… Die? 4 Me? This makes me feel bad for saying your music is so terrible this whole time. On second thought, and considering this individual is actually deceased, I’ll leave the whole concept of death alone. I will not leave this track without saying that this is one of the worst songs I’ve ever heard. Listless. There is something so lifeless about this album. I don’t know if it’s the production, the environment I’m in, or hell, maybe the volume. Purple Rain is so overblown. A song for losers. I can’t articulate how much I despise this lighter waving pile of dreck. This feels like an excellent time to mention that this guy was also anti-gay marriage, and referred to a 16 year old as his future wife (he was right) when he was 32. I don’t know man. From the terrible music, to the sketchy details about his life, this was a downer. But once again, the geniuses of music review have sainted ol’ Princeton (full name) here as the second coming. As a musical idiot and I suppose a general all-purpose idiot, I certainly hope we don’t see a second coming of this loser. An album that enters with a whimper, stays there, and leaves with a slightly more tired whimper. Truly awful. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Serfdom seems preferable

A foray into post-Beatlemania. Is this LennonMania? The same cursed affliction that has resigned a poor Terry Bolea to walk the world as “Hulk Hogan” for oh so many years. Lo, may the teams of doctors enlisted be guided upon the wings of grace in their pursuit of containing the largest arms in the world. MOTHER! TELL YOUR CHILDREN… no? Ah. Spooky. But not Danzig spooky. This is a nice song. That opening strain is just so melancholy. It stays with that emotion until the repetitive nonsense we get near the end. Too much for me. I like the violent screams, but that refrain is repeated far too often. Another one I’ve heard. Amazing how ubiquitous the music of the 4 people is, even today. This was 55 years ago and their height was 65. How long will it last? Solid feature from another cultural icon, Cookie Monster. Glad to hear he’s got clean since the 70’s. A whirlwind for all of us. This is a cool beat but the repetition and We need it now more than ever. Cheesy as that may be, a song that speaks to a lot of truths. We all see it, it’s all discussed, yet nothing changes. You’ll get to be on the hill someday! Just work a little harder. And harder still after that. Oh. You ran out of time? Tough luck. Thanks for the hard work. Great song. Pretty simple ballad. Nice in the ears as most Lennon written songs are, however the lyrics are a touch rote on this bad boy. Just a boy and a little girl (barf) tryin’ to change the whole wide world (wretch). Uhhh. You’re losing me here John. I actually played piano on this one. I had to come into the studio where all of my fingers were broken in a freak kite flying accident. I told ol John boy (as he liked to be called) and he said “that’s fine mate, just smash that one key with the finger that works.” And I said “you will be assassinated on December 8th, 1980.” He was taken aback, but like the tru pro he was, hopped right in the “stu” and I bashed the living shit out of that key for 4 straight minutes. And THEN I said, “Imagine there were no kite accidents, then we could’ve had a decent song here.” We lost touch after that. He went his way, and I became a professional boogie board roadie/unprofessional music review guy. Don’t do this to me John. This is so dull. This song is needing to be done. Alright. Some distortion. And a great thing to say if you have your thumbs in your suspenders. WELL WELL WELL. OR if your are the quintessential studmuffin Joel Gertner. Solid track. He loves the freakout closes doesn’t he? Pretty sick. Particulate in the breeze. Only real Kansas heads will get that. That’s not true. It’s their most popular song. Similar to it to be fair. A fine song. He doesn’t believe in hitler? Errrrrrmmmm I didn’t have Holocaust denier John Lennon on my 1970 bingo card???? That’s my impression of a millennial with an expansive funko pop collection who was transported back to 1970. The message to focus on your own life rather than some societal force outside of yourself is good, but otherwise, we have ourselves a normal ballad here. Finally. The Delmore Brothers. PLAY FUGITIVE’S LAMENT. Oh. He’s just saying his Mum is dead. Well. If it makes you feel any better, based on her birth year, she most assuredly would’ve been dead by now regardless. Big rip to J dawg’s Ma. Pour some beetle shell grinds on the curb. This was interesting. I see a couple things here. Firstly, and more superficially, I see a guy who desperately wants to be take seriously and to be seen as an artist. Secondly, I see a person who has a lot on their mind and a need to express it. I think the second point is what guides this album through its track listing which is the way to make music interesting. From the soft moments to the screeches, this thing ranges from humdrum to exhilarating. The songwriting also falls on a spectrum with some incredible moments interspersed with ho hum ballads and repetition beneath Lennon’s songwriting ability. I don’t hate this, I don’t love this, but it’s worth a listen. Lend me your ear old beatle man, and I’ll tell you, this is slightly above average. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Hold On, Working Class Hero, Well Well Well

First movie soundtrack of the list. Was it an album first and then a soundtrack? That would be cool. I don’t know what this is going to be but I’m hoping for a large degree of funkiness. If anything can top that suit and chops combo, I’ll be surprised. Let’s dive off the top rope into Super Fly. This is so boring. Is the intro of the movie an incredibly sad man who doesn’t really show it? A lot of hurt in the inside, but he goes about his normal life, going through his mundane tasks. You’re my mother and father? And a slur? The world is nestled in a blanket of infinity. Kept aloft by my delicate hand. Cradled in a ritual older than the concept of time. I’m the keeper of the codes. The axis upon which all things turn. I am omnipresent. I am… the pusherman. This was mid. Ooh funk. Good let’s let it die in the arms of this vocal and a repeat of the same three notes for the rest of the song. The swell of the strings or whatever sucks big time. This is background music. A small amount of jazz saxophone? Splendid. Genuinely splendid. This is a very lush quick instrumental break. The vocals let this thing down. The runs are boring, the tone is sappy and we don’t need them. If this is what can happen with a silent singer, we definitely don’t need them. This song was fine. The lack of variety is an issue again. I already feel like I’ve Been here for a long time. It’s just so boring. It’s so clear that this wasn’t meant to be listened to as a standalone track. The Pusherman is back. Was he ever gone? This makes me want to use drugs. Or not. Whatever the message of this song is, I want to do the opposite. My head hurts. It’s actually beginning to irritate me. Oh thank you Pusherman. You have delivered unto me an instrumental. It’s not a great one, but at least I don’t need to hear any sappy vocals and boring lyrics for 3 minutes or so. This sounds like SNL is closing for the night. Throw in that weird horn that appears on strange jazz releases and you’ve got yourself a (another) mid song. I wish this song was about Fijian professional wrestler/insane person Jimmy “Superfly” Snuka. This is ending much the same way as his life did. In a murder trial where he was deemed unfit to stand trial for the murder of his girlfriend. Now THAT is how do a metaphor. Laboured and barely coherent and also a joke. Anyway. Another boring song. This is a soundtrack. Soundtracks are, again, popular with a group of people on the internet that I don’t understand. This album sounds like (brace yourself) it’s meant to have visual accompaniment. It’s flat, thin, and sounds half baked. There is some instrumental dexterity in there with some decent tones, but the end of the day, we’re reviewing albums here. As an album, this is missing a movie, and having never seen the movie, I was left to imagine what was going on with the Pusherman. At the end of the day, I won’t be seeking it out. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: Junkie Chase

Yes kind of sticks out as a band that I ended up thinking a lot about after my initial review. I gave them a 3.5 for “The Yes Album,” but their prog rock sound was so memorable that it had me questioning if there was even more I could’ve gleaned from it. It’s not specific songs necessarily, but the overall tone and style of their musicianship. Looking forward to once again rolling into the uptown record swap event with the granola I brought from home and a fresh hair tie collecting the last strands of my hair into a stylish ponytail that barely grazes my fleece vest. PROCEED. The meme song. But other than that, listen to the God damn bass. Sure, the opening made the rounds on the internet for a few years, but this thing does not let up. A monster. Opening to a kids TV show? A fine little interlude. Dammit. I’m not supposed to review interludes. This will be the final straw for my loyal readership. Interlude part deux. Super weird. Loved it. Man. Who is playing bass on this? This song is a little darker. Almost metallic. It sounds goofy, but you can hear this bass style and tone on some of the more technical death metal that will pop up in the 90’s-2000’s. This one could’ve had a bunch cut off. The first couple minutes were electric, and we kind of strayed in the middle. At least it returns to form. Amen brother. What are the doin’ with my did damn tax dollars. Is that was the title means? This song kind of sucks. I have to say it. Don’t like the melody. That’s not a demand. You can do whatever you want. Hell, I’ve seen the reviews on here. People like all sorts of nonsense. Schindleria Praemeuturus? Is that like an early screening of Schindler’s List 2? Always on the cutting edge these fellas. Decent track. Mood for a day is appropriate because so often these albums DO determine my mood for the day. Happy to report that the mood is mostly good thus far. Prescribe this album a la School of Rock for anything that ails ye. Oh hell yeah. The bass is back front and centre. It really never left. Uhh. Well. I mean the dark tones are back then. My interest is back. This thing is nuts. Goes everywhere and nowhere. Does that mean anything, or has it become a cliche to overcome a lack of ability to describe? YOU be the judge. This thing was a wild ride. It’s so hard to judge accurately because the musicianship is so dizzyingly virtuosic I am almost a stunned observer through most of it. Did I LOVE the songs? At times, YES, but these are long songs. The vocals are still not my favourite and there is less emphasis on making a good song than I would like. HOWEVER, that is a minor critique in this instance as there are enough cohesive, hard hitting moments to call this a success. I’m loading “Fragile” into the back of my 2002 Subaru Forester and taking it back to my Portland condo. Just say Yes. 3.5-4 HIGHLIGHTS: Roundabout, South Side of the Sky, Heart of the Sunrise

The follow-up to “The Queen is Dead” and apparently the final release from the Smiths. With a cover that is probably some cultural reference whooshing over my head, I scratch mentioned head in anticipation of what this could be. “The Queen is Dead” was an excellent listen albeit a challenge. One of those challenges that’s rewarding, but a challenge nonetheless. The Smiths’ ultimate swansong, until Ticketmaster again raises prices 600% and the surviving members will have to accept a new album deal and virtual tour for 400 billion dollars sent via Neuralink. There is no other way to clear that Mr. Beast lunch meat ad from your subconscious vision. Onwards to victory Smithies. Catchy, poppy, but did we need the glockenspiel? I just wanted to type glockenspiel. That kinda day. This had almost reggae elements. That’s not good. Not a terrible song, yet not great. Oh no. Is this George Michael? The claps and horns are obnoxiously 80’s. This song feels almost lazy for the Smiths. I do like a few of the instrumental flourishes, but overall this is a bit of a dud. This is cool. This is at least 15 years ahead of its time as well. The disco dancer is dead, which is also, albeit sadly, apropos for the late 90’s/2000’s time this brings to mind from my futuristic ivory tower. Equipped with a spotlight for glaring in the eyes of the peasantry while I tell them which trends will take off in the ensuing decades. Enjoyably low key, with odd jangling guitar, creating an interesting track swimming in futuristic atmosphere. WE COME FROM A LAND DOWN UNDER. Is this? Dark humour? You just wouldn’t get it LIBRAL. That spelling mistake was part of that “joke” package, but due to my historic lack of proofreading these streams of consciousness and my sausage-like digits, it kind of feels like par for the course. The tongue in cheek humour of this song is actually quite interesting. Almost too quick. Not the coma. The uh, song. Stop stop. I think I might have heard this one before. Ok. Well. That’s it. Album has to be over now at the request of Morrissey. I want to thank the ancient monks of the unknowable mountain temples that are scattered throughout the ice-bitten isolation of earth’s many mountain ranges. I know you guys are out there grindin’ (pursuing martyrdom) making sure we don’t fall prey to the punishments of eternal damnation. I see you in your quest for enlightened humility under the tutelage and powerful ruling hand of your vengeful yet merciful god. Go off kings. Anyway. This sucked. Good ol screaming. Nothing beats it. This is moving in slow-motion now. I can’t believe this is such a short album and still, here we are. This is simply too much. This has almost elicited a laugh out of me. I have guffawed many a time during this list, but the lyrics are so dumb here that, well, they’re pretty funny. I think that’s the intention. This is like evil REM. Next child’s birthday party I attend? I will not play this song. What? Do you think I’m a monster? Check in with yourself. Ask yourself why your mind went to that place. Do you hate children? Do you hate me? Do YOU want to have an unhappy birthday? No matter how much you may be suffering with these unanswerable questions, this song is a blast. Uhh. Ok. I’ll start painting. Oh god. What horrors are ensnared in my mind. Like Tantalus, writhing for eternity, now released upon the canvas like the opening of the gates of hell. A fifth plague as the bell peals into the cracking skies. Barney has been painted. He is a different colour and he is wearing a trilby. A world where this didn’t exist is but a fond memory. An oasis in a desert of psychological anguish. Have mercy oh wise dinosaur, for it is I that loves thee. Good song. Uh oh. Let’s get into the club. Oh. The rockabilly club. Oh boy this one is not good. I won’t share you. Sounds like me hovering over the “share” function of Spotify during this album. “Has the Perrier gone straight to my head?” Sounds like me as a pre-teen pretending to be drunk while drinking sparkling water for the first time. This is actually a really nice song. What can you say about the Smiths that hasn’t already been said? Uhhh. They’re staunchly opposed to airlifting time-traveling orangutans to their history changing missions, preferring chuckwagons to be the primary mode of travel. There. That oughta be something nobody has ever said. Look, these guys are interesting, and this album follows that same path. The lyrics are out of left field and speak to me on some level. This feels like it needed to be released and while it doesn’t feel like it was intended to be the end at the time, it fits as a close to what I’m discovering was a solid career. I didn’t enjoy this nearly as much as “The Queen is Dead,” but some of the sounds on here would become essential as music progressed, and many of the beanie wearing gentrifiers who further refined indie-pop have “Strangeways, Here We Come” to thank. With their views on the transport of clairvoyant primates set aside, and taking into account the inclusion of some stinkers on the track list, this album feels influential and highly necessary with some genuinely enjoyable moments that will assuredly grow with time. Music to wake your coma-bound girlfriend with. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Death of a Disco Dancer, Unhappy Birthday, Paint a Vulgar Picture, I Won’t Share You

Whoa. I wonder which one got the 100th haircut? That’s the big story. My money is on the yellow tie man. He’s really chewing the scenery in the middle here. Apparently this is new wave that people think shouldn’t be part of this list. Classic inclusion. Someone should make a NEW list and only include albums I like. I’m in full support of that. This is actually kind of fun. The jazz interlude, the upbeat guitars. Sounds like Devo featuring jazz. That is absolutely a compliment. This is Sims menu music with La La La’s. El Terriblé. Please move on. Oh he says the song title right away. I do hate ambiguity. Cut right to the heart of the matter. Especially when you’re dissecting such hard hitting issues as citrus based fire brigades. Elevator music with cool bass sections. I somehow don’t hate this all that much. This week on Odd Company, trouble is afoot when little Abner firebombs the school’s utility shed. Will Mama serve some parental justice or will she join in on the fun in the name of a united ireland? All that and more on Odd Company this Friday night during ABCs primetime weeknights! I don’t like this song but the saxophone is fairly cool. It’s less 80’s pop saxophone and more jazzy. Why is this so good? Reminds me of Gang of Four. Missed opportunity to call your band “Gang of Six” considering there are indeed, six fellas here. I’m available for consult gents. This song was boring. We’re so back. Firstly. The song is called Baked Beans. While as a food all beans are abhorrent, the concept? Funny. The song? Incredibly fun. Snow-y-y-oh-oh. Why must this be so back and forth. This sounds like death. A slow death. This is playing quietly on the radio next to your deathbed while you flatline. You realize the last strains you’ll make are against the confines of a bed you never asked to be in. Let the darkness envelope you. This is excellent. Once again we have flashed from a melodramatic stench pile to the aromatic, blossom-laced shores of this funky ass jam. Too many stink based words in this track review. I want to sincerely apologize to the good barbering crew down at the pelican haircut lounge. Is this Creed? Am I about to watch an Al Snow comeback package? No. We’re back in the doldrums. Excuse me is Captain Autumn there? Yes I’ll hold. Uh huh. Are you Australian? Oh no. That’s strike 1. This was a fun closer. Nothing crazy. Boys. I have to hand it to ya. This was a good time. One second we’re buying cable knit sweaters, the next we’re going a fall photoshoot, and after that, we’re hitting up Long & McQuade for a quick bass lesson. This is the best autumn ever. Let me know if you’re ever in town again, and maybe I’ll be the 101st haircut. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Favourite Shirts (Boy Meets Girl), Lemon Firebrigade, Kingsize (You’re my Little Steam Whistle), Baked Beans, Love’s Got Me in Triangles

The LSD has already hit. That’s what I do every morning (at work) while I write reviews. Extreme quantities of psychedelics. I have now hallucinated a band that is actually a chewing tobacco company. This is a world where tobacco companies are not evil. Or are they? The album name is just a bunch of words placed in a nonsense order. Far out. Pretty cool start. The vocals are always the scariest part of any new album, so we await their arrival, but this was lush, odd and pretty fun. And they’ve arrived. They’re fine. This was fine. Interesting and psychedelic, but nothing to start penning a letter home about. The inkwell beckons. Pretty cool stuff. I don’t know why the lyrics are being explained by Spotify. Apparently this is a song about a dockyard sex worker. It’s so weird that I like it. This one is a little less fiery but it’s by no means bad. This is veering more towards the bad. This sounds like Geddy Lee in hospice care after frying his brain with a bad batch of acid. Gone the way of Syd Barrett, may he rest in peace. Interesting to be sure, but not something I’d return to. Bewildered octopi dance upon a spooned custard crème. Unbeknownst to their choreographer (hog in a scuba suit) is the looming tablecloth taking shape as a deity behind their makeshift studio. Awaken to tea and crumpets, always time for tea, always time for tea. The tea is the ocean that we all imagine in the gable of the hog and the octopi. Oh fabulous day. Kind of a boring rock song. I don’t think I speak English. Either that or I’ve had a stroke. I am banned from several McDonald’s establishments and I am also known as the Hungry Intruder. I am spoken of in hushed tones by frightened fry cooks. Look to the skies oh stoned teenagers, and guard those fries with your life. This is so cool. The lyrics are great when decipherable. The tones are so cool. I’m not mad at John’s I mean this story is giving me a run for my money in nonsense. In fact, it’s blowing me out of the water. I would have to be blitzed out of my mind and English. I shudder to think. Oh. Well. Not the greatest closer. A strange way to end in that it wasn’t all that strange. My eyes expand into blooming orchids opening and closing as the cycle of life and death. Over and over with each blink. Kaleidoscopic spiralling, rods and cones palpable with tactility. The full embodiment of human feeling. Yeah this thing was weird and I really like that. It was fun, innocent, bizarre, and ultimately extremely interesting. Musically it didn’t blow me away or anything, but the ambition and likability throw this one into replay territory. Close your eyes and embrace the fly. Shout out to Mad John and Happiness Stan. The true OG’s of spiked chewing tobacco. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Long Agos and Worlds Apart, Rene, Happiness Stan, The Journey

The band called Love. The glory days when all band names weren’t taken. You could go out there and be the uhhh Eagles or some shit and nobody batted an eye. Did they exist then? Whatever. Everybody say Love, because we’re back in the groovy 60’s, a time where freedom of expression and creativity were encouraged, and a time where all the people who hate those ideals were born. These guys think they’re so cool. Especially the pre-cursor to Han Solo on the cover there. You know they took 5000 shots to get the wistful white guy’s cigarette smoke billowing just right. Interesting jazz fusion. Did I use that genre correctly? Too many things to learn in this wide world. Genre fusions will have to wait until I am financially able to retire. According to extrapolations in current world trends, that appears to be 279 years in the future. Splendid. This is boring. Overblown. Overdramatic. Not for me. Sesame Street interlude. This vocalist ain’t it pal. He sounds like the puppeteer behind “Ernie” not quite doing the voice. ¡Que Morte! FOURTEEN I GOT IT. This one was more fun. Blasting throughout and a cool little solo to finish. I close my eyes. Only for a moment, then the moment’s gone. Oh. We’re not in Kansas anymore. Yeah this backs suffers from shitty vocalist disease. Are you or a loved one suffering with SVD? Do you have an airtight musical ensemble only to be dashed by an egomaniac who believes they can sing? You may be entitled to nothing, please quit or form an instrumental band. There’s too much music. Thank you. I seriously hate the vocals. Ingenious flower child spotted. Even the harpsichord is making me mad. HARPSICHORDS SHOULD NOT ELICIT ANGER. Oh. Wait. Yes they should. THOU HAST BEEN STRICKEN BY THUNDER. Into the long jam. Hey ladies, we did acid once. Now that the mean jokes are out of the way, the yelling is far better than any singing this guy can pull together. Stick there. Nice cool jazz closer as well. This song is a saving grace in many ways. This whole album could’ve just been this. Should’ve, even. This album is interesting in that we listened to Small Faces yesterday. Two psychedelic albums from the same year back to back provided me with some knowledge about myself. Particularly what I enjoy in creative media. This is a perfect display of two distinct types of creatives. The first being people who are fun and expressive and adept at producing odd ideas from the most vibrant parts of a fertile brain (Small Faces). The other type, which “Da Capo” seems to emanate from, are people whose expression is carefully curated to appeal to somebody. I can only imagine that somebody is a liberated woman from the 60’s. I prefer the former. This entire album screams pretentiousness. The vocalist clearly believes he is some mystical flower child or is at least playing that persona to score some chicks. There are some cool moments here and there, especially on the last track, and the influence on The Doors is cool to hear, but overall Da Capo should be called Da Low Ranking Military Officer Who Tries Too Hard And Ultimately Will Never Be Capo. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Seven and Seven Is, Revelation

Ahhh Willie Nelson. The ol’ misty eyed traveller, the ol’ Red Headed stepchild, the big saloon, the peach tree cobbler, the grandiose bar mitzvah, the even more ol’ opry. One of those has to be right. Whatever. Modern country has led me to believe that I hate country music. Considering that I am both a Canadian and a person who has brain cells and a personality that doesn’t depend on branding, it’s been a tough sell. Older country that has appeared in my rotation (and in the Red Dead Redemption 2 soundtrack) shows that some of the folk roots still linger. Will ol Wiry Willie be a staunch folk appreciator? Or will he show an early foray into the glorified truck commercials (feat. Casual racism) that clog up the country charts today. Take it away. Is this about Cody Rhodes? I wish it was. This wasn’t it for me. Not enough going on for me. Doesn’t mean I need 10,000 bells and whistles, I just found it to be slow. Ugh a cover? Hoagy Carmichael is spinning in his grave. Nobody names their kids after sandwiches anymore. Truly a sign of the difficult times we live in. I dream of a world where little Meatball Marinaras roam the streets with their pals Footlong Hero and Cheesteak. Sinpler tomes. Or is it simpler times? You know. I just can’t remember. Sad. Oh no is this Khruangbin? No. It’s still Willie. Well. This is incredibly mid. The harmonica is surprisingly the best part of this album so far. This also sounds like a church hymns. And from a boring white church too. Are these all covers? I think this another one. I swear to god if Hoagy wrote this one, I’m going to visit his grave. Alright, so these are all “pop standards.” This is like the Ella Fitzgerald thing. Why? More on this later. I do somehow like the really bad recording of the kick drum. It sounds vaguely wet. Otherwise, I’m in tears of boredom. OPEN THIS PIT UP, WE’RE ABOUT TO GET UNCHAINED. Don’t say “I’ve hungered for your touch.” I’m calling the 1978 cops. They said they wouldn’t come unless they could shoot a minority repeatedly. How things stay the same. This song has pretty elements but it is also incredibly cheesy. A little too saccharine. This is for all my autumn heads. Remember when fall actually used to start in September? That was cool. Existential climate dread aside, Willie continues to mention other months in the September song. Lucky it’s not his, otherwise I’d have to throw down in the saloon. That falsetto burst on HAT. Got a genuine laugh out of me. Goldust mentioned. This truly is a Rhodes family reunion. This was silly. Talk about Hard Times. Loonies in a river, fallen cups of Tim Horton’s, moonlight in Thunder Bay. People who meet, to conduct fentanyl exchange, are so hypnotized by the purity of the cut. The geese cackle. Moonlight in Thunder Bay. Snap along everybody. Another mosh anthem. I have historically liked this song, so this will be telling. Yeah. Just as I suspected. Big Willie Style is boring the shit out of me. Willie sez “my girl is a disgusting monster, but it’s all I got. Especially if I keep releasing rehashed songs from the 20’s.” Man he doubles down on the “my girlfriend is ugly” rhetoric. Brother. Not good. Yeesh. Uhh this felt like it was playing at half speed. It’s easy to look back at Stardust and realize it was an album made to stuff shelves and sell to old people. I can almost guarantee that every thrift store in North America has at least three copies of this thing sandwiched between Perry Como’s second greatest hits and Mozart sung by the German Catholic Choir. These songs had no life, and were barely explored yet somehow interminable at the same time. I know now that these are reinterpretations, so it’s not that I am expecting original lyrics or even core melodies, but there is zero originality to the performances on this record. Take all of the copies of this record and crush them into a cube. Sell that cube to the highest bidder. Might as well squeeze one more cent out of this soulless heap. 1-1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Learning the name Hoagy and picturing a big sandwich.

No Mom, I WON’T clean up my room. The band that launched a million angst ridden drywall punchers into the Age of Enlightenment (the late 90’s). They’re here with their debut that I haven’t really heard all the way through. There’s the hits, sure, but will those hit me the same as they once did, or will this generate the cringe that I kind of expect it to? Grab your walker, aging millennial guy named Kyle and/or Josh, and gather round the ol’ text box. Time to review Smash. Ok. Thanks. It is time to relax. Well let’s just pretend that didn’t happen. It was fine. Kind of funny, but you better start with a bang. Meh. The riff is alright here. Sort of thrash extra lite. The whole Rise Against melody that this has is really off putting to me. I’m aware that my use of anachronistic comparisons may also be off putting, but this is my party, and I’ll cry if I want to, pal. This was mid. Man these vocals are killing me. Why do an A Cappella segment with them? At least it jumps up from there. This song has far more energy than the previous. Ironic because the last song featured the word “energy” in the title. I mean this lyrical theme though. My skin is crawling with cringe. I may run you off the road if you’re playing this song. Oh my sweet lord. Immediately transported back to being stuck in traffic on the 102 flipping track and forth between Q104 and the other one whose name escapes me. Catchy song to be fair. A little less cringe. Better. Still not great. This lyrical theme feels slightly higher brow, but we are still deeply in cro-magnon territory. The unnecessary competition between humans in an age of permanent excess is baffling and exhausting, but just saying “dog eat dog” a thousand times doesn’t quite get the point across. I just want some straightforward punk. The riffs are again ok. Fairly boilerplate, mainstream rock. I want less melody and more edge. I am being delivered this overly-melodic track on repeat right now. Stadium “punk.” Hand me my cheaper version of a popular energy drink, there is some drywall to punch. Hey man, when I see red, look out. You know what though? At least this song has some attitude. And if I imagine it as a takedown of macho culture, it gets even better. This is a fun song. Heavier and more subversive. A victory. Uh oh. The king hit on this thing. Look. I talked about cringe, and I fully anticipated “Self Esteem” to remind me what a loser I was as a teenager, but you know what? This song is still pretty fun. The long winded melodic chanting is tiresome, but the lyrics and general slacker punk energy really work for me. Look at me liking all the chart toppers. Hey. This one is pretty cool. The little poppy break halfway is actually really good. A catchy track. This is my favourite cartoon. I will only expose my children to Killlboy Powerhead. It’s NOT too violent or racist like they say. The hood is just part of his costume. I don’t even know where that bit was going. This song sounds like a vaguely western themed and highly overblown arena punk song. Oh good! Ska influence. I will try to imagine good bands during these difficult times. Oh no. My brain is not powerful enough. All I can think about is Sublime and wearing pyjamas to Wal-Mart. So much of this stuff has aged horribly and I am incredibly bored. I could sleep if it didn’t feel like I was in the waiting room to watch a Billy Joe Armstrong NFT commercial. The aging of rockstars really is sad. Maybe Kurt Cobain was onto something This is Dropkick Murphy’s for the other coast. The riff has its moments, but the vocal melody is killing me. I’m tired. Is this song really going to be 10 minutes? That may lower this whole thing by a star. Oh wait it’s going to be silence!!! Score. Well I can use this time to ponder my existence and question my enjoyment of rock music overall. A lounge version of “come out and play” brings this 1995 Pontiac Grand Prix loaded with Wendy’s cups and an anti-abortion bumper sticker to its final stop. This went a lot worse than I could’ve even imagined. I hate this particular sound and I think that only grows with time. Who knows. This may come back like multi-coloured ski jackets or baggy jeans, but for now, this hits the ears like a warm trash heap hits a nose. It reminds me of the smelliest and hottest moments of 2005. Which is telling for two reasons. One. This album is like the inverse feeling of nostalgia, and two, I wasn’t there when this WAS fresh. I was learning these songs from aging anger management drop outs who are now right wing. So while that may be partially unfair, I can’t come at it from a different place. This sounds to me like a collection of songs to be belted out by drunk white guys in a half full Staples Centre. There were some songs I enjoyed, but I’m ducking out early, so I can beat the lifted F350s out of the parking lot. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Come Out and Play, Self Esteem, It’ll Be a Long Time

The whole world? Are we a corner of the universe aliens are instructed not to go to? Maybe that’s why there hasn’t been contact yet. Either way, due to the fact that I have no further comments regarding the planet earth being a ghetto and of course the rigorous time constraints imposed upon me by big music review, let us proceed. Mount your bayonets, men. The Cisco Kid? What, does he wield a six shooter packed with lard? Greasing the wheels of justice. Oh wait. That’s Crisco. Is he trying to sell me the CiscoPone with Ed Bagley Jr.? Oh that’s Cinco. Well. St least thinking about these things helped pass the time. Musically pretty cool, dampened heavily by the constant repetition of a nonsense lyric. The Cisco kid is not a friend of mine. Oh no. The swamp critters opening. Oh wait it’s actually pretty cool. The vocals are far better than before and this was pretty funky. The ol’ thumbs in the middle treatment. Fog settles over a small church in the Spanish countryside. This desert-tinged epic is atmospheric to the point of bringing to mind landscapes across the world. A cowboy out of place and time. Not a lame cosplay cowboy way either. An outlaw pulled right from the 1800’s and dropped into 1970’s NYC. That oughta do it. Enjoy the pre-tourism Times Square and try not to get/spread syphilis you little rascal. A long track, a good track. Another long one folks. The 45 minute run time is divided amongst six songs, so if you’re not already buckled up, your mangled carcass is already smeared across the road. I do talk about runtime a whole bunch hey? OnCinema was onto something about hack reviewers. How niche can I make my references? Not to call plagiarism, but this sounds so similar to Planet Caravan. Right down to the vocal melody. Pretty sweet song to imitate but it doesn’t quite have the focus of its predecessor. Not a bad track but this one is not jumping out the windshield at me. The titular track begins with a warning. A warning that this may be grinding to a halt. Oh here we go. We need a little bit of energy after some extended downtime. At least the previous downtime felt cool. This is death. The gavel comes down resonating through the court of music nerds. Surprise being exhaled through allergy laden nostrils resonates through the wooden courtroom. The crime? Heavily criticizing PJ Harvey and Britpop. The sentence? Death. No last meals in this savage realm. Simply a final song. The world is a ghetto. 9 minutes I await my demise. 9 minutes stretches into the infinity that is my final rest. Woe is the reviewer who besmirches the quirked up indie girls. Fie upon the house of Yorke I scream as the final Starsky & Hutch lick ushers me into eternal sleep. Just kidding. I’m alive. I am jolted awake by funny words like “Beetles” and “Bog.” Luckily it’s not spelled “Beatles” or it takes on the grim veneer of a search party looking for the remains of Ringo in a wetland marsh. This was another dud. War. What is it good for? A few decent tracks, I reckon. This thing had some good moments despite my review, which seemed to frequently return to the concept of mortality; whether mine or that of the venerable Ringo Starr esquire. The netherworld seemed to be lurking beneath each grammatically laboured sentence this album drew out of me. Look. Tracks two and three were fun, and the rest fell off a cliff. Somebody call a search party, or maybe a chief of armistice, as this war is all but over. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Where Was You At, City, Country, City

I checked and I am delighted to report back that Bittersweet Symphony is NOT on this album. Imagine the revelry of the populace. Drinks fly in celebration. Confetti and streamers drape the teary eyed crowds who celebrate avoiding the lamest song of the 90’s. It’s a victory. Will the victory parade continue? THIS IS MUSIC *clap clap clap clap clap* THIS IS MUSIC. You get the idea. Actually, I’d like to provide a rebuttal. More of an amendment. This is bad music that is also stinky. Nothing sweet about this. My night terrors are back. The clockwork orange coded twink front and centre is usually the subject of these terrors. This song felt like drowning while having a college student attempt to woo you. I assume. With the Britpop, so goes the boredom. I wish I was on the intellectual plane that The Verve has ascended to here. One can only dream. Perhaps I haven’t suffered enough in my young life, but I have never experienced a longer 5 minutes. Another song and I might OD on the spot here. Get the NARCAN. Ok at least this is their second album. This whole thing has sounded like they’re completely out of ideas. Just quit. I don’t hate the idea of the riff here but the execution is overblown and the vocals remain brutal. Not in a “Br00tal kvlt” way either. Grim and Frostbitten in the worst possible fashion. Holy hell this is something else. One of the most excessive, masturbatory wastes of tape reel I’ve had the displeasure of experiencing. Hey. Take the last sentence and reapply. Why was this released? What needed to be expressed here? It’s certainly not coming across. What I hear is a group of guys with nothing to say, trying to be cool and ultimately failing. Well apparently not, as they’re on this list. So. Congrats. Acoustic Soundgarden set and Chris Cornell has a cold and a case of the East London chimney sweeps. This is the least obnoxious vocal we’ve heard, but this is still silence masquerading as a song. Maybe this album is a protest. If Oasis believed they were the most artistically abstract band to ever exist. I also retract my statement about the obnoxiousness of the vocals. Hmmm interesting. HIStory??? Breaking news. Verve cancelled. Villagers rejoice. A lot of rejoicing in this review despite some of the worst music I’ve endured this year. And this list throws down the gauntlet. Another one of the worst songs ever written. Please end. Every. Song. Is. 5. Minutes. Long. And. The. Same. Somehow we fit in a lousy truck commercial riff in here. Try that in a small town. I don’t need a reprise of anything. Perhaps a violent reprisal against this waste of 60 plus minutes. Wait it’s 54. Genuinely slowed down time. This is an iceberg drifting into the warming ocean for a final time. The slow onset of apocalypse. A collection of songs somehow worse than Bittersweet Symphony. They may stylize the words different but I don’t care. This sounded like people who do coke imitating people who do other kinds of drugs. This is music by and for people who believe they’re on an elevated plane, but they’re just boring simpletons sitting in caves lined with Warhol prints, desperately swiping left on anybody who looks too old for 18 on tinder. Every hurl of the vocals induced nausea, every nothing riff went nowhere, and I was thoroughly angered by the very idea that this was conceived and released. Seemingly with malice for art and a need for acceptance into the world of cool. This is as good as releasing feedback for 60 minutes. I would’ve preferred that as a protest or piece of anti-music. The Verve produced a slab of prententious garbage dripping with self-importance and a false sense of artistic merit. Only the biggest of pseudo-intellectuals need apply. If you get one skip throughout this endeavour, it would not be wasted on “A Northern Soul.” I wish I had afforded myself the same mercy. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Having this behind me. Never to be heard again.

Pink Moon was a revelation. Very near the 5 star level and while it was an album I had explored before, it sounded fresh and exciting and still does. This is a trip back in time in the short career of Nick Drake. Hoping for more of the same, and considering that earlier work is often more raw and emotional, we may be in for a treat. Kick off your clown clogs and pull up a chair from my grandmother’s house. Yes, Nick is already here and has followed instructions to the letter. Introductions? In this economy. Could’ve saved me a cheeky 90 seconds there, big man. A nice opener. Why not? A follow-up to the original Hazey Jane. Uhh she was a drifter that was famous for also being a nighttime cobbler. Man this thing is so much happier than Pink Moon. It’s almost jarring considering that was my reference point. A word I love to overuse is “bombastic.” I never anticipated that word would even enter my mind whilst listening to Nick Drake. Why is this melancholic loner being accompanied by a volley of horns? Bizarre start. The Eagles on quaaludes. The additional instruments don’t do anything for his voice. This song is both boring and overblown. He has such a quiet voice and style. I don’t understand the extra noise. It’s not needed. This songwriting is more in line with what I expect and enjoy, but the piano adds an unnecessary element. Better track though. Still not thrilled. Not getting the emotion I expected here. I wish the background instruments would go. This is fine. Not great. This does remind me that I have been staying up too late doing Lite Brite. I just have to see the tiger from Aladdin made out of little plastic lights. Set the animal ablaze with the heat of the clunky, yet patented fire hazard perpetrated on the world by the people at hasbro. Bless their cotton socks. An instrumental was nice. Love a good flute. I thought Bob Dylan somehow ran into the studio. They picked up his panicked “PLEASE” as they escorted him out of the studio. He couldn’t handle not being on something people would call influential. I have to say. This song is beautiful. The accompanying strings actually help the song in some areas. It adds a real folk element to this. Somehow “Fly” is as intimate as it is expansive. Ugh the samba mix. The saxophone and jazz piano are cool here, but the overall melody isn’t it for me. Especially the choir. Yikes. Decent song. It’s hard to say I hate it, but there are certainly some elements throughout that I kind of hate. I can’t say “I wish there wasn’t so much garbage in the background” on every track review, but it really does apply to almost every song. Oh. Now we’re back. Floutist and an almost metallic funeral riff. Oh get out of here with the drums and keyboard. No need. Ah man I’m bummed. Truly bummed. And not in the British meaning of the word, you perverts. This read as an extremely talented, yet worryingly introverted teenager too shy to interrupt the people at the bar blasting “GENERIC POP INSTRUMENTAL (10 HOUR LOOP)” form their phones. There was more repetition and less genius because we had to make room for lame piano and horns that brought to mind the smell of mildew. A good album that was consistently interrupted like an alarm breaking up a beautiful dream. I like Nick Drake, I LOVE Pink Moon, but as far as Bryter Layter? Feels like I hardly knew ‘er. I long for the return of winter. Plunge the summer people back into their SAD pits. Me and the boys of winter will be roaming the prematurely dark desolation, causing mayhem and baying at the Pink Moon. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Bryter Layter, Fly

This album cover feels like I’ve seen it a million times. If I’ve heard one note off of this I’d be fairly surprised. An album that is ubiquitous in the “best albums” sphere and no surprise that it turns up on our daily listen pile. I am excited for what this could be, but it’s a guarded enthusiasm. I have been crushed before. In the wise words of Beyblade; LET IT RIP. This is quite good. The vocal range and folk sensibilities make for an excellent combination. A lot of variation here and an incredibly interesting song structure. Great start. I did have to laugh when she was rattling off some lame “shampoo” rhyme, I read her bio saying “a folk singer with a poet’s spirit.” I love the way boomers refer to their significant others. The old lady/man. I tend to enjoy “the old ball and chain.” Speaking of prison, this song is happening. Nah it’s not that bad. There is such an odd quality to her vocal inflections. It gets a little too operatic for me here but it is far too interesting to ignore. Little Green, Blue, what’s next? Purple? Yellow? She could go anywhere with this thing. Oh no. It’s an astrology jam. AND a rebel moving to California song? Nooo. This was fine. There will be icicles and birthday clothes for sure. I bless the winds that come from Africa. I am also regularly thrown out of the mermaid cafe because I change the “f” in the sign to a “g.” Hey. When I call them freaks they also throw me out. I am banned from the mermaid cafe. What are we doing? Oh yeah. Joni came through here. Really fun song with lyrics that jump off the page/screen. Blue was darker. Dare I say, it was blue. Not my favourite moment on the album. I want more folk, Joni. Less wrists slashed in a bathtub. That particular sentiment needs to be accompanied by tremolo picking and blast beats. Wow. I tried to type wow and it just said “we” and I couldn’t fix it for a little while. It appears that this song has given me a stroke. The vocals here are beautiful, the prose is effortless, and the song whisks the listener into a state of bliss. At least this listener. Look at me forgiving trendy location fetishization. This MUST be a good song. Yeah, I mean another excellent one. I have difficulty writing about good albums. Shows my lack of writing prowess. Fortunately, no lack of writing prowess here. Jingle all the way. It’s literally every note of jingle bells except the last one. Oh. It is a Christmas song. What a musical sleuth I am. Other carols appear throughout as well, which is actually such a cool idea. I feel like I’ve heard a cover of this or heard it somewhere. Either way, I’m hearing her version for the first time anew. That vocal line in the chorus is heart wrenching. So good. CANADA MENTIONED 🇨🇦🍁🦫. Ugh. I hate regurgitating memes, but in these trying times of having the world’s shittiest neighbour (it’s always been that way), I feel I must show solidarity with my countrymen. The drinking a case of your love interest is a little laboured, but hey, I’m still loving this album. And honestly, this song is perfect. The metaphor IS a little dumb, but it’s delivered in a way that I believe it comes form the heart. It reflects a genuine feeling. Man. Richard sounds like a real downer. What a cool song. I thought it sounded a little too same-y off the bat, but wow. Makes me think of the DI song “Richard Hung Himself.” Wonder if it’s the same guy. What a journey. I was laughing early on about the poetic sensibilities, but Joni Mitchell really does have that unique poetic slant on the English language . Not everything has to be bogged down with unintelligible Shakespearean scripture to make an impact and generate a thought. I found myself increasingly engaged by the lyrics as they were delivered by an ethereal voice over competent instrumentation. This album deserves to be in the company that people place it in. I think this album should’ve been called “Fully Blue” as it was clearly a response to Miles Davis’ “Kind of Blue.” It’s jokes like that, that keep my reviews unread by the general public, and it’s albums like this, that will keep me coming back for more. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: All I Want, Carey, California, River, A Case of You

Boobs?? At this hour? At my job? Ah man. I’m offended and the Pixies have been cancelled. Sorry fellas. As a devout male feminist, I have to put the kibosh on this feminine expression. It’s in my job description. Despite the scandalous nature of the sleeve, I am giddy for more Pixies. I feel as though they might have a perfect early run. Of course, my reviews will continue to dip in quality as the plastic in my bloodstream cripples each lobe of my brain like an encroaching oil spill, but I shall persevere and attempt to transcribe the following. Cowabunga, Surfer Rosa. Don’t jump the shark. Carol gets a whole song? What do I get? This almost has elements of Devo. The frantic caterwauling. You can hear that this influenced so much indie music right away, and I suppose Devo is in many ways the spiritual grandfather of said indie music. This song is downright futuristic for 1988. Cool track. Break your Body? I will do no such thing. Despite my powerhouse physique and my prison nickname being “The Spleen Incinerator,” I do NOT work for free. Sorry pal. Now, will I hold your bones? Absolutely, BUT only if you pay for the body breaking seminar. Bone holding is complementary with seminar purchase. Tons of energy in this song. They really want that body broken! Sponge-Core. Not a bad instrumental break. I love the unhinged screeching. Buddy’s got a broken face. What can I say? Asked for a broken body, and somebody breaks his face. You know what they say, If you want something done right, hire the Spleen Incinerator. Remarkably reasonable pricing. This track rules. Oh no. I used to make fun of this song. My teenage self is looking at me with arms folded in anticipation. Yes, he is wearing a Demolition Hammer t shirt. Guess what lil fella. I still think this chorus is a dumpster filled with Carnak-esque predictions of what 2011 pop hits would sound like. You can rest easy. However, the verses are great. Not “.44 Caliber Brain Surgery,” but still great. Oh, while I’ve got you in this time portal, please buy real estate with your part-time job money. I’m sure that 300 dollars a month should do it. Gaza strip has been discussed. Genocide is bad. All religion needs to be abolished. Hope things improve there. Anyway. The song is cool once again. The shrieks are so good. Not a misspelling of sheiks. I mean. It has a billion plays or something. It’s so god damn good though. Ugh. I hate myself. Emotionally poignant, varied, a little funny and ultimately, beautiful. Jeez follow that, right? Not an easy track to respond to. The coolness keeps on coming though. Good. The superhero named Tony probably owns Tony’s on Robie Street in Halifax. SOLID donairs. A worthy theme song for a purveyor of such fine meats. You’ll do a *gulp* topless woman on the front cover, but won’t say “Oh my sweet fucking Christ.” That would’ve been cooler. Oh he said fuck. Ok. He said it a lot. The title track in parentheses. Too cool to even do the full title track. My word, the screams are great. It’s such a nice touch and they fit so well. This song is a little off its rocker, but that is very much ok with me. Hell yeah. Hey Paul McCartney, this is how you get decisive. You’re all like “well gee I don’t know, MAYBE I’m Amazed” and then the Pixies rock up a couple decades later and are all “oh yeah I’m amazed big time. The wonders of this event are immeasurable and have bewildered us into a state of amazement.” Make a commitment for once in your life Paul. If the Pixies can do it, well, actually, they’re pretty good, so maybe sit this one out. Decent song. Brick IS red. I liek this album ‘cause it say true thing. Man. You have to love songs that mention hanging. Easily the most artistic execution style. For the real melancholia heads. This album could’ve kept going. That ending almost felt premature. Just goes to show that I continue to really enjoy discovering this band. I just needed a reason to finally explore all of the (mostly bad) music people have been obsessed with for all these years. For all the hatred I spew towards many of the albums that pop up, I’m glad this list has given me that reason. If nothing else, for artists like The Pixies. Surfer Rosa is aggressive, creative and even a little bit funny here and there, and I think it’s absolutely sublime. I have an HR meeting scheduled for later today. I’m sure it has nothing to do with writing lengthy reviews under a picture of a topless woman. You just need context, I swear!! Well, that context is a wonderfully cool album. This whole ordeal reminds me of that time I used a boogie board to surf the 2004 Indonesian tsunami and was summarily tased and incarcerated by UNICEF. “My Summer in Jakarta, How I Boogied my Way Into the Hearts (and Prisons) of Southeast Asia” is on shelves this fall. Surfer Rosa, however, is on repeat right now. Hang loose, brah. 4-4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Break my Body, Broken Face, Where is My Mind?, Tony’s Theme, Vamos (Surfer Rosa), Brick is Red

I thought this list ended before 2020. I am horrified that this is on here, but I suppose one of the biggest grossing artists ever, should appear on this trudge through hell (emphasis on gross!!! Got er’ already). While financial success does not mean you are listenable (hello U2), it probably does mean you turned some heads. I wonder if the person on the cover will turn their head, and it’ll be a skull having the last of its flesh pulled away by birds. I miss metal. Anyway. Taylor Swift ladies and gentlemen. Never thought I’d see the day. Let us begin. May god have mercy on my soul. All the song titles are lower case and it’s fall on the cover so this puppy is about to get “stripped back.” EXTRA EXTRA TAYLOR AT HER MOST INTIMATE, NOW ON SALE TO HIGHEST BIDDER. TRACK 1’S DEEP SENTIMENT BROUGHT TO YOU BY CHEVROLET. Jesus Christ. This sucks. Repetitive and overblown pop disguised as a folk song I guess? I hear quiet pop. Sensory inclusive radio pap. Have to give credit for use of the word “crestfallen.” Too sad for the radio, but of course this will be playing during the worst depressive episode of your life in a dentist’s waiting room. Yeah this vocal line sucks. Also, the “one for the money” riff made me want to die. Next. I don’t have the vocabulary or musical knowledge to describe how much I hate this. I can try by saying it sounds like a country tinged theme for an off-brand children’s movie. Whoa guys. DAMN???? In the song title? Man if I was a 16 year old daughter of a modern day plantation owner, this would go so incredibly hard. Crying in front of the marble pillars. I’ll see the world one day. You’ll see. Seeing as that is not me, I’m not enjoying this one. Don’t worry Becksleigh. It gets better. Report your father by the way. Errrm, my best colours?? Not beating the racism charges just yet. I don’t know if she’s racist. She just looks it. Anyway. Ugh. This is all so sappy. I could almost see enjoying the buzzy little close to this, if it wasn’t preceded by a People’s Jewelry commercial. I can’t. This is a great time to mention that country music in the modern age is the worst music to ever exist. It oozes light beer, commercialism, and sunburnt dopes prancing around in denim and cowboy hats, pretending to be Western/Southern. I do love the idea of cheaters getting murdered, but that’s where this ends. What is happening. This is spoken word. Not good spoken word. Nothing happening. The little videos that play during the songs are insufferable. She’s bowing in a millennial trenchcoat? Why? What have you done? Spoke another bad high school poem over a nothing instrumental? Not enough. You’re shattering me, Taylor. I’m getting hives. I’m going to try imagining the song “Centerfold” by the J. Geils Band. Not that it’s a good song, but it’s funny. It would be nice to smile. OH GOD NO. A representative for a conservative coffee company has stepped into the stu’. This sounds like a performance from the bullies at a high school talent show that all the teachers love. Six songs left. Six. Six. And so blew the horn of Gabriel. Bound by Euphrates no longer. The return of heavenly entities was to usher the end times. The revelations made by gods unknown. Lamentations through tears of blood, drenching alabaster robes. No purity in life can alleviate the pain in this death. God misinterpreted, demons deified, earth pillaged. The faithful razed as martyrs unremembered. Sound the horn. Convulsing to the sound of the final cracks of earth. Faith in vain. Anyway. This song was horrid. A cheating glorifying track!! She’s a cowboy. Perfect. Another stinker. Hey Taylor? This long story is VERY LONG. It’s not short at all. I wish it was, trust me. More bad poetry. At least we’re sisters in that regard. Please. End. Nothing is happening here. This is the music that plays before a timeshare seminar. I can see the folds in the projection screen. The shape of his name spells out pain? Well you see Taylor. Letters are shapes. So. The shape of a name is the letters of a name. Meaning the shape IS the name. Was her boyfriend named Payne? That guy sounds cool as hell. The robot beeps are fun. If she would disappear off of this track, it might be the best one. But for now, it remains at the bottom of the barrel with the rest of them. This one is quiet. Wow. Bon Iver sounds stupid. Rancid. Abysmal. Horrendous. Unpalatable. Revolting. Disgusting. Gross. Terrible. Awful. Cringeworthy. I ran out of time for more synonyms. This was another album NOT made for me. I’ve said a lot of stuff here. I didn’t think I could muster up the power to hate this as much as I did. This is disgustingly poppy garbage, BUT played quietly. You know. To feign depth. I don’t want to be the asshole who just hates the female pop star because she’s the female pop star. I would be this hard on any person who released this album. It was grossly commercial, and hellishly unbearable. I am spent. Music for your conveyor belt commute to work in a pop-up Amazon™️ city. Hey Siri™️, exclude this from my taste profile, oh and order me a refreshing glass of Coca-Cola™️; I have a popular NFL™️ matchup to attend. Long live our oligarchy. May it reign a thousand eons. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: IA IA, RISE FROM THE OOZE O ANCIENT ONE. THE DAY OF REUNION IS OUR DAWN.

It was only a matter of time. Although two Icelandic artists in the span of a fortnight or so is pretty alarming. That has to be some kind of record considering the population. I kind of wish this randomizer kept things chronological, as I’ve never heard one second of Björk’s music. I’m aware of her as a general popular figure of course, but having zero context besides knowing that she’s weird is going to be interesting. Hoping it’s a good weird. Hey Björk. Take off that headgear and fire up the turntable. If you wouldn’t mind. That accent is STRONG. I really thought this was in another language. I am ashamed. Hey. I must be in a good mood because this isn’t that bad. The vocals are horrible, but the soundscape is lush enough to distract me from that. And she has some interesting inflections. This is pretty cool. I wouldn’t say she got milk from a stone, because that sounds like I’m over here “B Jorkin’ It” to the music. *THUNDEROUS BOOS.* What?? It was a good song. Will this get tired? Perhaps. The avant-garde vocal delivery is so weird. It’s so weird that it falls into the charming territory. It’s somehow still keeping me entertained. A history of touches? Yeah that sounds about right. Vocals weren’t working for me here. This sounds like a song that might end up on the catatonicyouth instagram feed. Women fresh off of an intimacy seminar hopping into garageband. Predictably terrible. I feel dirty after this. Meh. This one is cooler, but not a lot going on. Not hate-able albeit the same amount of silliness. The vocals are ranging from artistically inspiring to right out of a parody track. I can’t hate it, but I certainly can’t love it. WE ARE FAMILY. Oh god. This family is aboard an alien spacecraft. They are being dragged into the ventilation shaft one by one. Ripped into the vacuum of space. Silent terror frozen into eternity. This is COOL. The violin part makes me feel like I’m about to be executed by Bjork herself. I’ll occasionally criticize songs for sounding like lame montage fodder. This actually sounds like a great cut from a soundtrack. Movies aside. This was cool. A little long in the tooth, but the best effort thus far. Will we “Notget” a good album soon??? Nah we’ve had quite a few now. Usually at least one a week. I’m liking the psychotic carnival tone to this one. Conjures the image of a beleaguered mechanic attempting to repair a carousel. He wonders why this Pennsylvania corn maze bought the Björk merry-go-round package. The music is one thing, but the children don’t seem to enjoy the obsidian warthogs with kaleidoscopic third eyes. Nobody ever rides the supine man, displayed in his gluttonous excess. Nor do they enjoy the single sugar cube that appears to be riddled with tumours. Björk explains over the loudspeaker that this cube is the earth, and whilst sweet, there is an inherent addictive quality to life and moderation is necessary although in many ways impossible, thus destroying the very host. Next to this carousel, is the Dunk tank! I prefer Adam Dance. Or Adam Bomb. I just wanted to talk about mid mid-90’s wrestling sensation, Adam Bomb. From the bomb family. Ugh. This sounds like Sims music. When something happens at your job or whatever. Maybe the building sections. This song was kind of mid. Big shout out to ANOHNI (isn’t that a kind of tuna?) who actually picked up the song halfway through. A little insane, but a little insanity is good. This is a mix of a late 90’s video game menu music and some violin concerto. Which sounds pretty rad. Oh, throw in some electronic bass stabs. I don’t like this song at all. I’m becoming quite fatigued with this whole thing. This is a big step towards that. Not to say there aren’t interesting moments, but the interesting moment per minute ratio is getting worse and worse as the minutes melt away. Like a candle melting over days and days. I am sinking into the quicksand here. My head is throbbing. I am nearing my limit. Take me back to my regular Wednesday morning musical input of Pissgrave and Slint. Now that’s a winning combo. Well we did it. I persevered through some Björk, and you know what? I’m relatively unscathed. This is not something I’d regularly listen to at all, but it had an insane appeal that I couldn’t shake. It’s bizarre, off putting and often completely off its rocker, but that made it an interesting 60 minutes or so. Again, this verges on parody so often that it was hard not to treat it as such, but it also never made me laugh. Vulnicura has moments of intensity, beauty, and emotional poignance which make this thing fascinating. What drags it down is some of those more silly vocal stretches and the length of the dead sections. I’m sure this isn’t the last we’ll see of this particular Icelandic weirdo, but next time I’ll bring my chalice and ornate headgear. This first voyage was an esöteric one. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Stonemilker, Family, Notget

They’ve told me all I need to know. 5 HIGHLIGHTS: Every Song Nah we’ll start this one in earnest. I said upon opening the page “this looks like it sucks.” Why? Probably the cover. I was expecting more music in the vein of War and Curtis Mayfield, which really wasn’t doing it for me. Apparently this is power pop. I’ve enjoyed some powerful pop in my day, so hoping this really does vault its way to the number 1 spot in my heart. Guitars are part of the record. Part of my journalistic sleuthing is telling you what instruments are here. I’m hearing drums and vocals as well. Well. There is piano, saxophone and in case you were wondering, yes, this is the SNL outro music. Or at least a precursor to same. A little too jovial for me. Hey now. This is pretty nice. Has that sweet power pop melancholia and a good little song structure. The background vocals are nice. I believe that El Goodo was indeed The Goodo. That’s an expert level translation. The song probably could’ve ended a few refrains shorter, but still a nice spot. There’s been a lot of talk of “The Street,” and I’m starting to wonder where this street is. What happens there? This song feels like a thoughtless deep track. We’re only three songs in, boys. Same old thing we did last week. No! Walk you home from school? The POOL?? Mr. Big Star, why don’t you take a seat. You were obviously part of the teen chat room as “El Goodo.” You haven’t been messaging a thirteen year old junior high student, but rather our crack team of predator catchers. Now that you are firmly in our net, we have to ask, why write this ballad, detailing your obvious attempt to court a 13 year old? I would recommend checking hard drives of any surviving members of this band. Big yikes. Anyway. After the super weird pedophile jam, we’re listening to a pretty decent one. I’m still recovering to be fair. What the hell was that? Am I insane, or was that incredibly weird? God. This song is good, but ugh. I feel gross. A Christmas song about India. Buddy wants to live in the Taj Mahal, and read a few books. Classic move. This was kinda meh. Started cool but went nowhere with it. The catch of “When My Baby’s Beside Me” is that he’s talking about an actual baby. They just keep getting younger. This song hasn’t aged well. Quite boring. Booooring. Yeah this thing is losing em. The vocals are nice, there’s nothing technically wrong with the album (other than the pedophilia), but it’s just not holding me. This getting obnoxious, yet somehow still fading into the background. Not loving it. A boring outro cascades this one into the forgotten mulch heap of the 1001. Of course the auto play introduces me to September Gurls by Big Star, which is eons better than anything that I just heard on #1 Record. There seemed to be an attempt to chart with this one, while also lulling the listener into a deep and restful slumber. I heard glimmers of promise on this one but overall was left disappointed and feeling rather gross. Decent to boring songs surrounding a weird track that should have every descendant of this band banned from public school. Should’ve called this album #458 record by not that big a star. Nothing on the bone. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: The Ballad of El Goodo, Don’t Lie to Me

I was a lazy bones. My bones were lazy. I missed the Friday review. This cycle of five days committed to a failing corporation and two days to do everything needed to maintain my life force for more siphoning from said corporation is taking a toll. After recharging in my pod to provide more shareholder value, I realized I didn’t give ol Hughie a listen and hung my head in shame. You see, home is where the music is, and hopefully this music enters my home office and whisks me away from the waking nightmare known as employment under late stage capitalism. You have 76 minutes. Good luck. Oh my god. Is it going to be jazz? YES. Very funky start. Upbeat as well. Very nice. The way this fades in and out of atonal jazz wildness and this fun little pseudo-chorus is very cool. Yeah I obviously don’t have the literacy (musical or otherwise) to describe why this is so great, but the improvised feel to everything mixed with the anchor to that driving groove makes this song an all-time classic. Absolute monster. Some quietude. The thought of a song being “piano heavy” usually fills me with dread. But with jazz, all instruments are welcome. As long as there a no bad vocals. Doesn’t seem like there will be. Jubilation accompanies every key stroke. Both of the piano and of my own digital dopamine portal. This song doesn’t go quite as hard as the first, but it is still a peaceful reprise. An oasis in the desert of overrated Britpop that my life has become stranded in. Oh hell yeah. Back to the groove. This is just so good. My word. The spine of the song is sturdy and even accessible while the instruments explore around it. Is this the proverbial “pocket” they speak of? AND? It’s about New York, which is the capital of moody saxophone music. I am become gentrification, raiser of rent. Someone has to have sampled this bass line. How cool is that? Kept going throughout the song. Man. Coolest song about forced homelessness I’ve ever heard. Well. I assume that’s what it’s about. Wait. If home is where the music is, if Hugh were to unhome somebody, would he just stop playing? We are veering ever so slightly towards salsa dancing. Let’s not stay there. Luckily the variety in instrumentation is enough to keep us in the jazz zone, but I was afraid there. I don’t love the “chorus” in this one. The percussion is still excellent though. Oh HELL yeah. The minor keys. The groove. Hugh launches another nuclear funk missile directly into the face of the Verve and whatever terrible artists I’ve heard in the last fortnight or so. Oh yeah, T-Swift was in there. How is “evermore” in the same realm as this? Whatever. Inner Crisis rules. Blues for Huey. I had stylized it “Hughie,” making me wrong. That kick drum sounds a little soupy, but the drum solo breakdown is so cool, I don’t even really care. I don’t know how many blues tracks have thunderous god damn drum solos, but I’m in favour of it continuing long into the genres twilight. When alien thunder house takes over Electropop on the oldies station, so too will blues emerge with kickin’ drum solos. Don’t love the horns in this one, but Huey’s blues is my gain overall. This is a happier one. What can I say at this point. This bad boy keeps chugging. Part deux of previous track review. This one is a cool groove. Mayyybe unnecessarily long considering we’re up over an hour already here. It’s not hitting me as hard as some of the others, but there are some riffs in here that still kill. Can I just get an entire standup bass album? That would be cool. VOCALS????? Hugh. No. Luckily they’re also sick. Who am I to question the taste of big Masekala. The horrors of the plains of South Africa might terrify the children, but I’m jacked up on this one. Well that was something. Fire up the helicopter baby, this Huey is gonna soar. I can’t fault any of this to any severe degree. The songs are long enough that even during the rare weak spots, I know an absolute behemoth groove or wicked solo is around the corner. Jazz is such an incredible opportunity to make of art what you feel. As a listener, I can fill in the blanks in the improvisation and glean my own interpretations from the flurries of notes and outpouring of passion exhibited throughout. The better the musician, the more potent the emotions in the instrumental. The musicians on this album were/are top tier and so much of this is exactly what I want from a record. Hugh came up Hughge™️ on this album, and me? Well I feel right at home. 4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Part of a Whole, The Big Apple, Inner Crisis, Blues for Huey, Ingoo Pow-Pow (Children’s Song)

Lenny tells me what I want, and in this case, he might be right. Dark music is pretty good as a general rule. Well, unless it’s like HIM or something. Dark and gothic are two different things. We’re getting out of control here. The Canadian poet/attempted singer is back with a vengeance, 2016 style. I think he died a few weeks after this. Now THAT’S dark. Let’s spin this audio equivalent of the shroud of Turin for insufferable hipsters. Hoo boy. This voice is RASPY. Man was 82 to be fair, but this is Bob Dylan syndrome. I’ll be damned if this isn’t an interesting song though. I’ll be damned anyway based on a litany of other biblical offenses such as covering my neighbours bitchin’ Subaru. I’m sorry. I’m sorry to the Cohen’s and hey, maybe I’m sorry to myself. This song sucks. The melody is so lazy. This sounds like Randy Newman, absolute blitzed during a Pixar recording session. “Who even cares if the green monster gets the uhh door back. He’s an abomination unto god. You’re all agents of Satan. Bah I don’t care. I can’t feel anything anymore. Cue up the next *hic* nursery rhyme.” Randy gets evangelical when he’s on the rye. Just like somebody should’ve taken that fedora away, so too should we have removed this soul revival song from the canon of music. This poem is dreadful as well. Come on gramps. Let’s pull it together here. Kind of a poignant reminder of death here. Wow. I’m going to leave that in because of my valley girl-esque trivialization of mortality in that first sentence. Leonard is TOTALLY giving loss vibes. Yeah he is SERVING wrestling with the finality of death. Interesting. Not a great song per se, but the themes grabbed me. I’m sorry, I can’t really get behind the old man love songs. The la la la’s man. I can’t. I’m travelling light(years) away from this song. This one is a little cooler. This works a lot better. Keep it understated. No background singers behind fedora grandpa. Just him, some sad poetry, and his goofy hat. Hell yeah. Some lines in this are resonating but the jaunty fiddle is a little odd. Not in a fun way. I don’t know man. This is just sort of there for me. A nice string closer to an album that I need to collect my thoughts on. Hearing the strings fade out, knowing this was the last release he was alive for would tug on anybody’s heart strings. The reprise of Treaty also hits way harder than the regional play. I think in the right setting and for the right person, this album has the potential to conjure cataclysmic emotions. I am not that person, nor am I in that setting. The album felt almost phoned in at times, and if I give Bob Dylan a hard time, I best give Lenny the same treatment, this shouldn’t have been a musical release. The poetry was unremarkable to me as well. Far too much focus on love delivered in far too simple a fashion. Simple poetry can be good, but maybe I mean shallow. It could be a surface level of understanding from me, or a weary man penning his last stanzas. Not the poetic masterclass I expected, and the music? Well, to Co-opt a Cohen-ism; I want it quieter. There may be a lotta buzz around Lenny, but this album has the effect of the sleep smoke used to quell bees. Fumigate me, oh beekeeper. Whisk me away from the buzzing cacophony of my servitude and render me unconscious to the injustice of being hive born. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: It Seemed the Better Way

Shaking and crying right now. Punching the air with a glee heretofore unknown to man nor beast. And I’ve seen some gleeful beasts. Like a walrus that has a fresh bucket of mackerel places in his enclosure, I am prepared to be satiated and given the life force I need to continue my week. Full disclosure, I have been listening to this album repetitively for a week or two. I imagined that it would show up here at some point, but what are the odds? I begin in the rare place of knowing exactly what I’m in for, and brother, I can’t wait. How’s the water gentlemen? Watch me dive! I’m learning that this song sounds so interesting, mainly because of the time signature. I don’t understand time signatures as I feel as though I can make anything fit into any time signature. I am musically illiterate. Take that as you will. The odd instrumentation and the heaving, metallic refrain absolutely kills. The frankly spoken vocals are excellent. If you can’t sing softly, don’t. Use your unique voice. A masterclass in doing just that. From the opening creep, Nosferatu Man creates an urgent atmosphere that feels like it’s climbing the walls of a mental hospital. I know that asylums were somehow involved with this albums release, and while that adds to the mystique, this song conjures that sickening, straitjacketed feeling without prior knowledge. Anxious, angsty, and still a heavy emphasis on, well, being heavy. Clawing at the padded walls, drunk on plasma. Initially, this was the song that I didn’t quite get. I now find myself increasing captivated by the lyrics, and the quiet moments of the record. This is an extended quiet moment. Almost hymn like, but highly relatable from a lyrical standpoint. I discover more of this album on each successive listen. Heart-wrenching. Elegant. Simultaneously breathing the air of the paradise while choking on the fetid smoke of misery. This melody. This emotion. Very little is touching this on any level. Even to this day. A song that resonates with me so deeply, it’s hard to move on. Close with a roof shattering fuzz. One of the great songs I’ve ever heard. For Dinner? A live Giraffe. Your utensil of choice? A pool noodle. Best of luck to you. Oh? You are unable to eat the live giraffe? Well. How the tables have turned. For too long you have tormented the giraffes of this world. From the Toys R Us guy to the lowliest of giraffes (Cincinnati Zoo), the revenge shall be sweet. I can only hope somebody reads this who had a complicated relationship with a giraffe. Now that’s a crossover. This song is an interlude in my eyes. It still perpetuates the atmosphere, and despite my ramblings, I am certainly not bored. Another pretty song. More evil creeping music. Anxiety affirming naval music. I mean what more could a boy ask for? Storytelling, uniqueness, excellent musicianship, atmosphere. Another cool one. I don’t know if it’s the album cover or some guitar tone, or both, but this album creates an atmosphere of blackness. Total darkness. Leonard Cohen told me that I “wanted it darker” yesterday. Well buddy, he was right. Perma-midnight has fallen upon us, and borne unto this world is an album that speaks quietly, yet envelopes everything it touches. Dark and brooding, yet somehow hopeful. A beautiful piece of music from the moment it begins to the moment the final lamentation leaves my headphones. I have become ensnared in the webs of this Spiderland until ultimately released from this mortal coil. Ending this album is like being awoken from the peace of eternal rest. Somebody turn down the lights and play it again. 5 HIGHLIGHTS: Breadcrumb Trail, Nosferatu Man, Washer, Good Morning, Captain

THE band. That’s it folks. Pack it up. Time to go. Once we’ve heard THE band, what is the point of continuing. The finality. The omega. The band. Apparently comes from Canada too. I’ve obviously heard a few of the radio songs that these guys produced. God bless Canadian content laws. Introduced me to the Band and of course, the real band, Loverboy. Whether you’re snuggled in beside the fire in Pugwash, or you’re in the *shudder* outside world, let’s see what The band has to say. Ugh. This isn’t great. Riverboat music. Long time readers of this *ahem* “column” should be aware of two things. Firstly, their own failing sanity, and secondly that riverboat music is how I describe music that has jaunty piano and sounds like it would go down better with a sarsaparilla and a view of the mighty Mississipp’. In other words, the worst music ever conceived. Another trip on the Tulip of Missoura or whatever. Mama. Please take me to a song that doesn’t sound like it would be enjoyed by white guys who defend plantation owners while working as waiters on their yacht. Yeah see? Civil war jams. I’m always right. Completely infallible as a reviewer. Triggered, liberals? Wait. This about the south falling. That is pretty good. The song sucks, don’t get me wrong, but hey, we love the fall of racist regimes. At least we used to. No we all just bicker over which of the billionaires have the best tasting boot. God bless ‘murica. Yeah this vocal performance was ROUGH. More bad vocal harmonies. This feels super messy. When you awake, a group of Canadians will be above you, pretending to be American in a way that is even worse than that sounds. Oh they will also be pretending to be folksy to cover up bad musicianship. Radio song. Intro to a swamp themed kids show. Swamp Critters competitor. Hey. I’m a fair man, and in fairness? This song rips hard. A drunkard’s dream if I ever did see one. The song that is. And buddy, colour me six shades of sloshed. This is a change of pace, and the vocals are slightly better than we have heard. Oh wait. Here come the horrible harmonies. This is the elusive “Sixth Harmony” that the iconic pop quintet “Fifth Harmony” tried to keep hidden. The 7th harmony beckons a slug-like deity from its cavern beneath the ocean floor and will bring about the destruction of humankind. The apocalypse is at hand!! What the hell does this mean? I’ll rip my shirt and let my river flow? I’m telling you, this music was designed for patrons of middle American steamboat revival tours. This tour is for the adults where the river is a metaphor for your dick. Now. Who wants to wear the captain’s hat. I like the folk elements of this track but the music just isn’t coming together on these tracks. Honestly? Getting away from the piano is the my favourite decision they’ve made so far. Saying “ol’ rag time Willy” a 1000 times made me want to hang myself from the plastic replica bust off the bow. Grab your partner and spin ‘er round, make sure she don’t touch the ground. Look out (American city) there will be (weather event). Look out Vilnius, there will be scattered showers over the Caspian Sea. A opening that sounds like you’re being haunted by the least talented rejects of a 1950’s doo wop casting call. The curse of the forgotten Belmonts OoOoOoOoO We WeReNt VeRy TaLEnTED OOooOoOoOoo. Jokes aside, it gets better as it goes on. But that start. Consider my timbers shivering. This is fine. I guess. I’m so bored. I laughed, I grooved, I cringed. The perfect funny song. But yeah, it’s actually kinda good. Damn guys. Why choose now to be likeable and somewhat cohesive. It even has the riverboat organ! And I like it??? I have been waiting in sufferance, and all the while, an oasis was withheld? Choking on mediocrity for 3 quarters of an hour with a cool drink of water being concealed from sight. This thing was a mess and not even close to in a charming way. I understand that these guys might look cool or whatever, but I wanted so much more from this. It just doesn’t sound good. Even later songs from this group are so much better. But hey, if you’re a man in his late 80’s fading into the final fog of dementia who is now unable to discern current reality from the dreamlike recollection of your childhood, then have I got “The Band” for you! Hoping this album got Ban(ne)d in most of the world. It came from Ontario, and it died on a steamboat outside Peoria. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: Up on Cripple Creek, King Harvest (Has Surely Come)

This brings to mind the old Buckley’s cough syrup slogan. “It tastes awful, and it works.” Effective advertising if any mention of the common name “Buckley” awakens my mind like a Cold War era capitalist sleeper cell. Hoping this slogan doesn't reflect the list maker’s modus operandi in adding this album the pantheon of mandatory albums. That’s right folks, I’m begging the amorphous entity(s) who compiled this list for an album that indeed sounds good, and works as an entry on this list. Will Tim deliver? We once again don our bell-bottoms and travel to a time before female access to credit cards, in the year of 1972. Take us to LA Timmy B. Fuck. Riverboat song about adultery. Four minutes into hearing somebody and I know everything I need to. The worst guy at a wedding gets too drunk and sings what he remembers of the blues brothers 2 soundtrack. I wish the guy in the song killed him before I had to smell this medical waste barge wafting down a tributary of the Mississippi River. Hey guess what? They didn’t cut off that wedding guy and now he’s doing a Jim Morrison impression while trying to woo a married bridesmaid. Why would I (in any universe) want to hear about this man’s sexual exploits? Why? It’s a theme that is so pervasive in musical history and I simply can’t understand it. Are there good songs that have sexual themes? Yes. I can almost guarantee those songs weren’t explicit. Not that I follow this advice, but brevity is the soul of wit. Try subtlety and maybe an entirely new lyric set and also music, and voice and also don’t release it. Then we’re on to something. You know what. As heinous as adultery is, the other person in this song dodged a bullet. I can’t imagine anything less likeable than this song. I lack words to describe how much I hate this. Oh boy! More fake blues!! INSUFFERABLE WHITE GUY BLUES DRINKING GAME - Now if the singer says any one of the following words - Boogaloo, Momma, Daddy, Redneck, ol’, or anything of the sort. Take a swig. Use bleach for best effects! I am mad at the band for playing behind this. This is another explicit sex song by the world’s least attractive moron. Aren’t you excited?? If this guy was around 30 years later, he’d absolutely be buying cocaine off of the friends of the minor he was courting and performing horrible Limp Bizkit covers in bars his girlfriend couldn’t get into. Are we serious with this? Reminiscing about fucking a teenager is not a point of relation, Tim. It’s a point of me wanting to quit listening to music. This will be my retirement. Here let me workshop a song from this album. Ok, let me channel my Grover from Sesame Street voice. Ahem. “Ahhh girl I’m your daddio and you’re 14 and I’m drunk on rum, how about I engage in inappropriate physical touching and sing about how that makes me an artist. Rahhhhh gurrrrl that’s right I’m your daddio and you’re my sweet child and I swear this Jim Morrison gig is going to pay off some day just wait ahhh.” I hate almost everything about this with a depth I thought unreachable. While the band was good at points, I’m the most disappointed in them. Why? Becausewhat they did was act as a vehicle for this drugged out, talentless moron to detail his laundry list of sex crimes to the applause of near deaf weirdos who comprise the music listening public. I sometimes hate living on this planet. Death does not create depth. Can we not see a project for what it is before and after the demise of somebody? This guy needed to be checked into rehab/jail, and he wasn’t, so we got this album, his death, and the ensuing brain dead applause from the internet’s most self-assured dolts. Now, I’m sure if he WAS checked into rehab, we would’ve gotten more bad music (with a fraction of the praise) a multitude of allegations, and a set of Botox influenced pro-Donald Trump TikToks in about 50 years time. If this album apparently matters, so do lyrics and these were some of the worst I’ve ever read. A complete lack of self-awareness surrounding each disgusting bar. Greetings from L.A. is the sound of a male manipulators final wheeze. I look back to my starry eyed intro to this review and I can say without a doubt that this tasted awful, and unless the objective was to get me to hate music, it did NOT work. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: The Consequences of the Rockstar Lifestyle

Noooooooo. Reggae?? Ah man. Aside from this one time hiding from the frigid late winter rain at the worst job I’ve ever had, I have never enjoyed one second of this genre. That’s not to say it doesn’t have validity, or whatever, but that’s not really what these ramblings are about, is it? Robert Marley. The man more synonymous with being slapped on every product from second-rate audio equipment to third-rate coffee than music. A shirt emblazoned with his visage remains a symbol of excellence in the wannabe high school stoner community. Can he live up to that lofty billing? My guess is yes. Take that for what you will. Oh wow that start tricked me for a second. I thought this was going to be different than I expected. I will deliver the shock of shocks when I say that this ISN’T abhorrent. Take that one to the bank, Bobby. Interesting layering and the lyrics weren’t bad. Better start than expected. Oh look! It’s the same riff! This is what I struggle to comprehend about reggae. But man, if this isn’t a catchy song, I’ll be damned. This is good! Passionate vocals and sameness aside, there is some quality musicianship. Well. Can’t win em all. I’m surprised there have been any wins at all. And I don’t even hate this. Stop that train, and while you’re at it. Stop this album. I’ve heard enough. This is my stop. No, I can’t do poor Bob like that, but this is a true stinker. Bruce Springsteen books a trip to Sandals Jamaica. That’s as bad as it sounds. A quarter to HATE?? I think it was an accent, but I like the idea of that for a moment of pseudo-depth. Gives off a high school spoken word play. Baby, we’ve got a date. I’ve assembled the worst elements of 50’s pop, reggae, AND country. Don’t be late! This is fading fast. A nice little song on some ways. Heavy on the repetition, and not breaking any of my preconceptions here, but I’m not in agony, which is a lovely surprise, as I thought I’d be writhing in torment by this point in the album. Gross. The flames are getting hotter as they lick at my heels. Are these euphemisms? He’s just boinking dudes in the middle of Piccadilly Circus? This song reminds me why the sight of some weekend stoner in a Bob Marley t-shirt has always given me hives. The worst kind of music, embraced by only the lamest of white people. Alright. Wrap it up here. I’m glancing at my non-existent watch and fidgeting in my seat. I’ve heard enough reggae riffs to lad a lifetime. I don’t need no trouble, Bob. I just want to go home. My mind is also confused with confusion. What have I done by starting this wretched list? I wanted to check if Spotify added extra songs to this album, so I went to the trusty music nerd haven known as Rate Your Music. Turns out, the real album cover has ol Bob smoking a comically oversized joint, and I feel like if I knew that from the start, this bad boy would been bumped half a star. There is something so silly about the overall weed culture surrounding reggae. Especially when the banner is being carried by suburban white kids in Canada. Here’s the thing. This had a charm at the start, and I began to develop a respect for Bob Marley. I never thought I’d see the day. As this album wore on, I was reminded that I really think reggae is in strong contention for the very worst mainstream music genre. Lookout modern pop country. Now that would be a clash of the titans. Anyway. Yeah this album surprised me. I would never listen to it again, but I was pleasantly surprised. Roll up this album, burn it, and pass it over there. I’ll just inhale some of the fumes. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Concrete Jungle, Slave Driver

Oh boy, another Oasis album. I thought they were a one hit wonder. Well. In terms of albums anyway. This is the debut I guess. Earlier albums can be the peak for bands in terms of raw emotion and musical urgency, but they can also be a let down after hearing the advancements the group had made the following year. I was surprised that I enjoyed Oasis’ critical magnum opus, so will I be equally enamoured with their debut. Enter the time warp. Time to get British. I can’t decide if I like this melody. I assume this song is somehow lampooning the rock and/or roll lifestyle. Or at least the egos that can dog the reputations of musicians. That’s kind of fun I guess. I liked the more buzzy close. Alert! I have decided that this is a mostly catchy, enjoyable song. Huzzah. If you can’t tell. I’m braindead today. So this, slow, middle of the road rock song is hitting its intended audience. I can’t even think of some sort of milkshake based joke. Uhhh. This milkshake uhh doesn’t bring any boys to the uh album review. That was good. Let’s go with that. Oh isn’t this that other song that they do?? This is Wonderwall. Whatever. I said maybe, you’re gonna be the one that turns me off of Oasis forever. This was not good. Hey you. Music reviewer. Yeah, you. Do you realize you don’t use enough sardonic prose NOR do you use enough hyperbolic descriptions of depth that wouldn’t stand out in a Shakespearean produced tour of Cats the musical?? Where you say, “this song sucks,” you SHOULD be saying “what “Up in the Sky” lacks in a cohesive timbre pales in comparison to the drought of intellectual forethought in the lyrics.” What I’m saying is that I have no idea how to critique music, so I’ll stick with saying that this song does indeed, suck. Man. I’m really bored with this one. I can’t believe there are so many songs left. This song is an extended guitar solo that I might have put together when I was 13 if I could play the guitar at all. And I mean at all. Any level. Oh man. What is this riff?? Ive definitely heard this in another song. Despite the dumb lyrics, this is pretty cool. Man the lyrics are dumb though. It’s Punk Rock Loser by the Viagra Boys. Damn. Stolen valour by a modern band I really enjoy. Ah well. This is probably the best song so far anyway. I’m finding this really boring. Can’t really muster a huge review in this track. Which is a shock considering my track record of excellent missives dedicated to each and every track I’ve heard ever. Bang a gong, Turn it off. Yeah this one is, as the kids say, completely abhorrent. Also a direct rip-off of a good T Rex song. The Digby Big Stop? Is that where we’re going? YES. Oh. Wait. Digsy’s. So close. A song as disappointing as missing a hot hamburger sandwich at the big stop. This is the kind of melody I wanted coming into this album. Tortured and sweet. At least it starts that way. Too long and repetitive to call this great in the end, but it had its moments. Oh Al Bundy. What is that rapscallion shoe salesman up to now? Finally, a quiet moment. Pretty fun song. Way to go fellas. Yeah this wasn’t great. I am feeling the weight of misery, and yet I don’t feel like that was the objective with Definitely Maybe. There are flashes of good songwriting in here, but a lot of this felt like meat and potatoes rock music. And while that is the most British thing possible, another unfortunate reality about cuisine on the British isles, is a lack of flavour. I besmirch my ancestors and even my immediate family here, but it is true. Spice may have been aplenty in the lands they colonized, but back in home soil? Salt is all you need. Where was I? Oh yeah. This album. It wore its influences on its sleeves but in the end, came across dull and left me wanting less Oasis and more of the influences. Bring on the endless stretch of desert. Time to find a new watering hole. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Rock ‘n’ Roll Star, Supersonic, Married With Children

It’s happening. This is not a drill. I am emerging from a voyage deep into the musical trash heap. I have endured mightily and have been stricken with the bends. At least that’s what I think this is. I’ll have to google the symptoms. Hold on. Oh uhh yeah, that bone and joint pain do be excruciating. Will Radiohead be as painful? I’ve been waiting for the critical darlings of musically inclined virgins worldwide and I await my entrance to paradise. Take my ticket, hyperbaric crash test dummy. We’re going back down. Whoa. They’re rockin’. This has to really piss off the guys who cry and scream and puke trying to say Pablo honey isn’t representative of Radiohead’s quiet genius or whatever. I gotta say, this uh ain’t good. Now we’ve got the bends. I can’t believe how normal this is. It’s just like meat and potatoes rock? It’s ahead of its time in many respects and would pave the way for worse songs deep into the 2000s. Not hating this song though. Has a life to it. Yo I’m big radio head and I’m here to say, I’m the funkiest band (not) in the USA. That was my cool Thom Yorke freestyle. SHES SO HIGHHHHHH. That is one of the meaner things I’ve compared a song to, BUT while the similarities are there, this song came first, and for that, it should be ashamed. I would sue Tal Bachman, but I feel as though the justice system known as “life” has beaten them to the proverbial punch. Apologies if the guy is really dead. I just wanted to rip on a one hit wonder. This song is fairly cool. Nice to have the gentle moment. Bones? Bones Schmones. I’m still reeling over how rocky this whole thing is. Not necessarily bad, but based on the genre of rock. We’ve all heard of that one, right? This song is really bad until the sort of metallic interlude near the end. That quickly fades out. Not loving this. Is this Weezer? Rivers Cuomo better sing on this. Oh no, it’s still the primordial Coldplay man. Oh I shouldn’t say that. This is way better than Coldplay. Decent rock song. Elements that make it more interesting as well. Apart from the horrible guitar solo, this track has a cool sound. Nobody talks about iron lungs anymore. Just the massive apparatus they kept sick people in for the rest of their lives. Like a prison that you must remain in to stay alive. Truly one of the most horrific concepts ever concocted by the human race. Listen to me criticizing incredible medical advancements. Really on my soapbox here. The song is pretty decent. Loving the loud parts. I wish I was bulletproof too. Would certainly make me less terrified of an impending union with the United States. Still terrifying. Anyway. This song was very repetitive and overly simple. Nothing here for me. There is a whiff of a nice melody here, but not enough to make me like this. This thing is running its course. More boredom. Moredom, if you will. You know what? I won’t. I won’t accept that I wrote that. These reviews get worse by the day. What was supposed to be a writing “exercise” has just injured whatever belief I had in my potential writing ability. A lesson to any prospective artists. Never try. That applies to this song. Rancid. Ooh a Halloween song. This album had a way of going nowhere. I think the band’s reputation had me believing this would be a stretched out atmospheric opus, so hearing traditional rock song structures shocked me. Some of the songs were exciting and had a different take on generic rock, but some of the others were meandering and not all that unique to my 2025 ear. I could hear that a lot of bands went on to ape this style which is admirable in a sense, but it feels like the well has been poisoned by the bands that went on to do this same thing, except worse. If I try to transport myself to 1995, I think this album was decent. That’s pretty much it. And I think that hurts more than my joints. Put me back in the hyperbaric chamber. I need some more detox time. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Fake Plastic Trees, Just, My Iron Lung, Street Spirit (Fade Out)

Elvis, was a hero to most, but he never meant shit to me. Every time I see this group, that line flashes through my head like a bolt of rage from a pen scribbling decades ago. That revelation came on the previous year’s “Fight the Power” which still resonates today. Before I blow this whole review box revelling in the past glories of a single line of a single song, I now peer forward to the apparently barely averted apocalypse of 1991. Unless of course there was an apocalypse and everything since then has been a dream in the head of some guy. Perhaps it’s me? I suppose that’s what anybody would think. Too early to be this existential. Hey Flava. Be a dear and get me out of this intro, would you? Oh hell yeah. What an intro. Adrenaline inducing. Well. I don’t know if “get back cause he whacks (wax) the tracks like terminator” is holding up. This track starts in one place and stays there. I wanted more rap and less of the repetitive whine. When the rap kicked in, I was still slightly distracted by the beat. Not a bad song, but I await more variety. Yo Flava. I can’t count. Will there be an accessible beat counting mechanism? Can I use my rap abacus? I think that should be allowed. Man this was a good little shot. “Now the KKK wears three-piece suits.” Still relevant. What are these beats? There is so much going on. Samples galore, weird guitar licks, car horns. Let’s get some dogs barking and maybe some kazoos. I joke but Chuck D delivers again. Anger distilled into musical expression. This beat starts off great, but unless there’s a switch that one second horn loop is going to drive me crazy. Well. They mix it up enough. I will say that this one sounds a little 80’s. Almost (ugh) west coast. Sorry that was hard to say. Sunny beat. I need bitter cold. Went too long as well. Well. We have some slurs afoot. When Chuck D isn’t rapping, the audience should be saying, Where’s Chuck? I’m probably going to skip this one at my next karaoke night. Probably not a good look. I’ll listen to this one carefully, and if radio consultants still exist, well, let’s just say look out. I plan on getting funky with the underground. I don’t like how that sounds in any way. Arizona has never been this funky. I love that this is just an opus about hating Arizona. Chuck D is so cool. Just says the stuff that needs to be said. No political party represents him. America is ran by a bunch of racist gun morons. Man that beat switch with the scream sample is so good. This is a beast of a song. Trudging through the desert, crushing government infrastructure. Move! is a song that sort of highlights the worst aspects of this album. The busy beats and repetitive vocal samples, make this one a forgettable track in what has been a solid recording thus far. I mean, burp samples aside, this rules. Little straight edge anthem from Chuck. This one goes pretty hard. Simpler beat and it’s excellent. Less news at 11 hopefully. This song kind of floated by for me until the jarring KKK outro. I guess that’s what you could call it. So much rage. Oh no, another Flava Flav song. Ok, now he’s gone. He’s not terrible, but he certainly lacks the poetic gravitas of his band mate. This smack down of the New York Post seems like it’s probably justified, but it hasn’t been my favourite subject so far. Classic throwback to Day of Reckoning 2? 1? I don’t remember. The formula that Body Count would build a career on works so well here. Genres with similar spines of indignant rage, meshing to create a novel and heavy track. Anthrax isn’t the greatest thrash band to ever do it (they only have one good album; sue me) but they work as a very capable backing band for the frantic poetry of Public Enemy. Apocalypso would be a cool name for a death metal/calypso outfit. I take that back. That whole idea sucks. But I must leave what I write. Why? Probably a series of disorders heretofore undiagnosed. I dream of a future where they can figure out the concoction of whatever is going on up here. Anywho, Public Enemy brought “tha noize” on this record. Chuck D is militant and aggressive and angry, but he has a focus that is hard to match. No punches are pulled lyrically at all. Obvious American discrimination is decimated while the finer aspects of systemic oppression are mused upon to the tune of increasingly chaotic beats. I think it’s in the beats that this album has its weakest moments. From the very beginning, there are layers and layers of samples and it so often feels like an overstuffed sack, to the point where nothing works. There are excellent beats sprinkled throughout, but where the lyrics should be the main focus of this album, there seems to be a full one man band playing over a five second soul sample loop. I will also say that even though I’ve praised him throughout, Chuck D’s monotone delivery can get a little tired after fifty plus minutes. All things weighed, this was a good album. Aboard this early 90’s political rap battleship, I sail into the beyond feeling at peace about the apocalypse. Watching the worms return to feed upon the living once again. Splinter the earth around me. Just don’t mess up my wearable clock. I’m a timepiece aficionado. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Rebirth, By the Time I Get to Arizona, 1 Million Bottlebags, Bring Tha Noize

This immediately looks like it came out last year and it is making the rounds through the “theneedledrop” subreddit. May whichever deity is in charge this week wash me of the sin of saying any of the words in the previous sentence. Darn my eyes. Uh yeah this really does look like a moody millennial playing even moodier music targeted towards the Gen Z. BUT, it’s none of those things. It’s from 1989 and I have never ever heard of it. This could be anything from chamber music to torture chamber field recordings. Let’s go to Ohio. Ohhhh it’s members of the Minutemen. This could be cool. Well. It’s not really. This track is country tinged, and ultimately? Kinda boring. Noooo. Why have you forsaken me? This sounds like the cassette note that a director made when brainstorming ideas for a movie montage. “Yeah it should sound kind of like this. Better but you get the picture.” The bass is very good here. Massive groove. The singing is whatever but this one was the kind of fun I would expect from a project involving members of the band that wrote “Viet Nam.” Oh boy. A real field recording. I know this isn’t a field recording. I’m just a cool fuckin ALPHA with a punisher tattoo in my FACE who loves to TRIGGER the music community. I mean this is pretty cool. What can I say? We’re improving here. YES. Now this is cool. I’m going to jam a few song reviews together here, making this already unreadable format even less readable. What Gets Heard and the drum solo are excellent. Liberty for Our Friend however? Stinkpile. Add it to the dumpster barge headed up the Great Lakes. Hopefully to meet the same fate as the uh *burp* Ella Fitzgerald. I’m a young guy moving to the big city. I sure as sugar miss all my friends back home. But! I’ve got faith on my side and by golly somehow we’re gonna make it!! This sucked. If’n you might speed this thing up. It’s been like 15 minutes and I want it to go away forever. This should be so much better than it is. Does that even make sense? Yeah this is really putting the emphasis on IRE that I believe it intended. I am not “understanding” most of this album so far. This song is fine. I guess. The vocals still aren’t my thing, but this feels slightly better during the quietude. No, George. Keep going. This is the good stuff. Ugh. This sucks. A boring anthemic closer. This poses the question of why? Why close the album this way? Were there enough ideas here for an album? That’s what I found myself thinking throughout most of this. There were cool Minutemen style jams surrounded by weird, lame, out of date 80’s pop rock. I wanted way more of the former and way less of the latter, but to no mercy was granted by the boys of fIREHOSE. I don’t hate what came off here but I don’t like it either. This album felt stretched to its limit, even at a 31 minute run time and it’s messy in an unlikable way. The flourishes of musical brilliance are almost insults, considering what the rest of the album forced me to endure. Not enough going on here and yet way too much. This album could’ve stayed as a vague idea in the heads of its creators, because that’s really all it ended up being. Whisk me across the Erie back to the kinder shores of Canada, far away “FROMOHIO.” 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: Whisperin’ While Hollerin’, What Gets Heard

My stomach dropped. I can’t do this. I am not strong. I am not a blue collar steel mining car manufacturer or whomever the evil monsters behind Bruce Springsteen believe they were marketing to. First thing is first. Every Bruce Springsteen song I’ve ever heard is a reason to intentionally destroy your own eardrums. They have a rhythm that will encourage you to bash your skull into rebar until you can vote republican or whatever. Secondly, I already know it’s beer commercial music. I will TRY to listen for criticisms of blind patriotism or anything of substance, but I have a feeling I’ll be straining my ears beyond their meagre capabilities. Don’t cry for me, I’m already dead. No. I can’t do it. My bones are attempting to leave my flesh husk. Please shut up. Music for people who are dumb, but not charming. Beer belly bigots with a penchant for adultery. Take a drink every time he mentions USA and maybe you can pass out before you have to hear that horrible riff one more time. Oh buddy we’re getting’ wild now. Oh yeah here’s some blue collar cosplay. Whoever writes for him writes one riff for each song apparently. Besides his vocals, this one is just sad. It sounds like his retirement tour and this is his PRIME? There is nothing happening here. There’s the riverboat organ. This is also just an interpolation of the first song. Why are you looking for work on the 4th of July? What the fuck is this? Please explain these lyrics. This is mad libs for morons. Let me break it down. We’re driving in a car✅ New York City ✅ Rock N’ Roll ✅ Come on baby ✅ Little girl you’re so young ✅ SHA NA NAs ✅ This is a parody of a parody that isn’t funny. I would pay Bruce Springsteen ticket prices to have this erased from my memory. 50’s fetishization. It’s more blue collar mad libs. It’s not even incisive or knowledgeable about the people it’s pandering to. “Hey you’re uhh workin’ on the highway.” I know you losers uhh do something to build the highways. You’ll eat this shit up won’t ya.” And the problem is, THEY DO. Oh boy. More of this? How are we not seeing through this? “I had a job, I had a girl.” Man, I used to be able to say I haven’t heard this song. We’ve all had hard times Bruce. I thought he was working at the car wash, now he’s got a cushy railroad job? Big union man. Disgusting. You SHOULD be on fire. Much in the style of those self-immolating monks. What the fuck are you talking about here? “Hey little girl is your daddy home? Can he do to you the things I do?” If you’re not talking about providing meals and housing for a minor, then this song gets the pedophilia stamp of disapproval and we move on. It was only a matter of time. Pack your lunch tin up and wear your sweat stained shirt or whatever. We’re going to catch a predator. That’s right folks I am here at this 1950’s cosplay diner owned by a major corporation. We have sent multiple direct messages to one “flaglover69” posing as a 16 year old girl. He has agreed to meet us this afternoon. Bruce! Great to see you. Please have a seat. Uhh this bit really has nowhere to go unless I riff off of the title being “no surrender.” If I insinuate I want Bruce to commit suicide by cop, then I might lose my, until now, untarnished credibility. *LOUD BURP* Is this about a guy? He never mentions. I don’t care, nor would I be surprised considering this guy’s sweaty industry fetish; however, I do know a revelation that this is gay would SHATTER most of the fans of this music. And that would be worth all the five n’ dime soda pops in the free world. Bruce Springsteen plays on the freefall to hell. Horns blare, shattering eardrums if you had known that feeling in life. Regeneration and destruction of tissue as you fall to the lower circles. Molten smog peels your flesh and the screams you can’t control choke your lung’s ambition. Lights flash messages indecipherable. Your life of misery fades from memory. The scars forming on your dessicated vessel the only reminder of your once mortal self. Become one with the fires of the void. Hell becomes all you know. Slave in fire. I peaked in high school and was also a bully who probably did something insane like try to kill a nerd. Hey. It was the 70’s!!! One riff that sucks, repeated over the predictably dumb lyrics of a true neanderthal. Return him to the primordial soup. Hey AI. Write me a song that can accompany footage of an election bus driving through middle America. Uhh no, this is too boring. No wait, it’s too bad. Why did you use this horrible horn? Ah well. AI thankfully can’t create anything a human could. For better or for worse. Oh yeah buddy. I can feel the pandering coming like a wave of vomit. That initial vocal killed me. Wait pause, let me write the song. I WAS YOUNG, TIMES WERE SAFE, EVERYONE WORKED HARD, WE DROVE A CHRYSLER, I GREW UP, I ROCKED OUT, MY MOMMA DIED, I HAD MY FIRST BEER, I VOTED FOR REAGAN, I DEMATERIALIZED INTO A CAULDRON ONLY TO BE REFORMED BY A CRYPTIC CABAL INTO THE ULTIMATE PANDERER FOR THE VOTING POPULACE IN THE LARGEST POPULATION CENTRE IN THE COUNTRY. How close was I? If you’ve ever worked a job, if you’re from a place, if you’ve ever felt an emotion; this should be an insult of the highest order to you. This should hurt like somebody is attacking your family. I don’t often say this, as I believe all art is valid, but this is created so cynically, that I don’t think it qualifies as an authentic piece of music, heaven forfend a piece of art. If you like this, you need to reevaluate your direction on this plane of existence. Observe something genuine. You haven’t thought hard enough about anything. I beg the creators of this site to open up the option for zeroes. For now, since I have to give it a 1, I hold one middle finger up towards this enemy of human creativity. Burn in the fires that your manifest destiny has engulfed the world in. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Here lies the bloated corpse of the American Dream. Rotting inside a gilded sarcophagus, emblazoned with a Chevrolet hood ornament.

My reviews have been nothing but scathing in recent days. Perhaps it’s the premature warming of the weather and the apocalyptic images that conjures. Prepare yourself for a shock; I’m not a disco guy. Seeing this album pop up on a worryingly warm Canadian spring Monday have me questioning why I’m doing this at all. With that glowing endorsement out of the way, do your worst Sister Sledge. It can only go up from here. He’s the greatest dancer I’ve ever seen. Buddy is absolutely crushing on the floor. In a trance, just hammering the cabbage patch. This is repetitive and the vocals are boring, but picturing some dumpy guy confidently dancing poorly, is well worth the price of admission. With recent tragedies(Br*ce S*ringsteen) I can happily say, that this isn’t making me angry. Based. No job for me either. Now, I wouldn’t join an all-female disco troupe. I’d probably just feel the cool air of freedom for the first time in decades, but you know, same difference. Not horrible. Well. It was only a matter of time. This did not need to be as long as it was. Or as bad. The performances have passion and quality, but the songs are so boring at this point. The baseline is pretty funky, but I’m mostly non-plussed, when I had hoped against hope to be plussed. Oh boy, the big hit. More like the big shit. I kid the Sisters Sledge. Wait. Are they related to Percy Sledge? WHEN A MAAAAN LOVES A WOOOMAN. Wow. This is turning into a great day. This song is mid. That little flute stab has to be a sample in some rap song. Now that would be cool. Total destruction being mentioned is pretty cool. Somebody do a thrash metal cover of this song and change the lyrics to be pro destruction. This riff is pretty undeniable. If this was a 3 and a half minute song or so, it would be good. Oh no. This song isn’t a friend to me. We’ve really slowed down to absolutely nothing. Complete halt precipitated by a reggae guitar sweep and the simplest drum section of all time. Usually, if I could play it, something is wrong. Bad song. One more time? Uhh let’s table it here, ladies. Don’t press your luck. The album wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be, but I don’t think I can do this again. Let’s get out of here without me saying anything dreadfully mean, and we’ll call that a successful Monday. Colour me surprised. This thing isn’t for me, but it passed the authenticity test to my ear. The performances felt real, despite the clear radio appeal that this record had. There were fun moments on this thing but they were hampered heavily by the interminable run time of every song. That’s the nature of the disco beast. Call me an honorary sledge sister, because this puppy is about 2 stars higher than I anticipated conjuring upon the initial press of the play button. Way to go! 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Guys? I think I’m the greatest dancer of all time.

The Cardigans moon landing was an elaborate hoax. Although, if you consider the vacuum of space, and the supposed existence of man (or men) in the moon, you have to believe that these moon people would get a little chilly. Perhaps in their misunderstanding of human music and naming conventions, the moon people requested the largest cardigan they could find, only to be delivered this band. Maybe it was real. Will I wish they burned up on reentry? Play that melancholy music, white boy(s). Ooh my new clock is here. Time to ring in 9:14 in style. I’m hoping this is ironic, post-modern indie bro fake disco. A GIRL?????? Putting the (wild)card in Cardigan. The flute and guitar sections are ok, but overall? This cuckoo song sounds like Gwen Stefani on quaaludes. SOME doubt about how this puppy will continue. I’ve got a pocket, pocket full of sunshine. Whoa. There we go. That’s a fun riff. The music fades between this heavy riff and a late 90’s radio pop song. Taking me out of the interesting good stuff makes me want more of it, that’s for sure. Fascinating song. I mean, not a bad song to rip off with that opening bass line. Black sabbath’s titular debut?? Sweet. Oh yeah, I can’t say I love the vocals still, but she’s not ruining it entirely. SHE SAID THE THING. “Oh please god help me.” I do know some things about music! Cool song. Happy Meal II: The Stuart Little Car. Stay tuned for Happy Meal III: The Abhorrent Amorphous Mass. Strange song. The sweet vocals are still not the greatest but I’m hanging on here every word. The least interesting song to me so far. The percussion sounds like a large gathering of people in an apartment above you. Well, at least that is different. The vocals again attempt to kill me. I’ve heard this song before. It’s not bad. Certainly even more poppy than prior tracks. The big hit. How have I only heard the chorus for this song. This is a big stinker and bringing down my internal rating immensely. This sounds like it spawned from the remaining members of No Doubt and current members of Maroon 5. Nary a more twisted combination hath existed. Boring. Of course, it’s the one everybody liked. No swears, come on Swedish Gwen Stefani. Yeah this thing is derailing fast. Like a train set out with good intentions, More Black Sabbath?? Never thought I’d stumble upon an indie cover of Iron Man. I suppose it is the first song anybody learns on guitar. This has the benefit of being based in a great song, but obviously this loses some (all) of the terror that song invokes. With all of that said, this is still pretty fun. Well. The goodwill has been shattered. The Swedish sweater patrol has punished me for enjoying the oddities of the first few tracks. Bored 2 Tears. The new project from Sweden’s preeminent alt-pop outfit. Well a return of the flute and the riffing feels too little too late here. A musical cue that everything in the sitcom universe has returned to stasis. Everything as it was before. I can’t say I won’t remember the Cardigans. For the odd jazzy moments near the beginning of the album and the bizarre concoction of genres that scored the titular voyage to the great cheese in the sky, I give them two spaceships up. The blatant appeal to radio listeners and sugary sweet vocals that veered into sickly territory dragged this album back down to earth. We’ve managed to avoid a Challenger disaster on this one, but we were unable to bring back the cultures that prove the moon is indeed, a large cheese wheel. I think that’s the saddest part of all. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Been It, Heartbreakers, Iron Man,

More albums from 70’s guys I’ve never heard of. Will this go the way of the Tim Buckley Greetings album? Or some other 70’s album that was actually good. I can’t recall the decades. What is my head filled with? Either way, the list’s favourite year throws another album at me and I’m hoping the canoe plays into it heavily. Not enough songs about portage. American Gothic - Oh it’s Leonard Cohen lite. Very odd and operatic poetry over frantic piano. This is interesting, I’ll give it that. That’s about all I’ll give it. Love’s Enough - Ummm is it? What about the simple pleasures of a fresh slice of toast on a cold winter’s day? Have you forgotten the laughter of a child at the slip and fall of a beleaguered hobo clown? Yeah this was a stinky ballad. Ballad of the Ship Of State - the Opera needs to be shuttered forever. Defund the arts. This musical theatre opus is incredibly cringeworthy. The oddity factor is intriguing but the execution has me dreaming of the guillotine dropping through the tracks above me. One Night Stand - Instead of the yarn Davey boys is spinning here (I’ll take things that didn’t happen for 200, Alex) I’d like to imagine that this song is about 2005 (and to a lesser extent 2006) wrestling PPV event “ECW One Night Stand.” Mike Awesome and Masato Tanaka trading brain contusions to the uproarious delight of the sold out Hammerstein. Hits me much better than the idea of this guy doing a playbill reenactment of a sexual escapade he imagined in an assuredly empty ballroom in Wichita. Buddy is as virginal as the audience at the aforementioned wrestling show. Oh, California! - we hardly knew ye. Ragtime honey! Nyah, you’re in California now, see? Get yourself a transfer from the garden station to Hollywood land. Make yourself a star kid. Now to the big close!! Please? Another Friday Night - I guess I’ll go to town. I would love to turn this off and hit the dusty trail myself, but I am shackled to this desk like a dog, despite my job providing nothing of value to society. Oof, we didn’t want to re-record that note at 2:20?? Man. This guy oozes ill-gotten confidence. Family Band - This should be family banned. We put the parental advisory label on the wrong music. Midnight Carousel - odd music which is cool, but this vocalist needs to be put down. I don’t mean as if he is a sick dog, but insulted more. I like to think the woman in the background on the cover is thinking he looks like a dick. Editing, my good man. Editing. Not every idea needs to be stream of conciseness drivel. Hey. Wait a second. Waiting for the Moving Van - Another boring song about things that never happened. We try again. Blues for Billy Whitecloud - Fuck there should be a blues song for me. 160 albums into this thing with a sub 2.5 rating. I have laboured in the mines of horrible music and this feels like the final slab of limestone crushing me. Where is my WCH claim sheet? Montana Song - This week on Bonanaza, a shitty 10 minute western themed solo from the most egotistical guy in musical theatre. I can imagine the other people at improv camp rolling their eyes and packing up their coats in an attempt to subtly inform this man that nobody is enjoying this. Man that was rough. An artist who drew comparisons to a man I once believed to be a living sandwich, Hoagy Carmichael, was so incredibly disappointing and hard to listen to, that I have already forgotten large swaths of this album. David Ackles has two posters in his dark, dank bedroom above his parents garage. The first. A large PLAYBILL poster featuring a ballerina or some other pseudo-artistic image. The other? A zoomed in fedora shot. Who is donning the fabled brim of destiny you may ask? Who else but our Canadiano Poet Pal; Lenny Cohen. Just outside this - the world’s saddest bedroom - is the canoe photoshoot. American Gothic is a tribute to mediocrity and failed hero worship. Tear down the posters and bring that canoe in to dry. There will be no theatre troupe fishing trip this year. Too much America and the kind of gothic that has me reaching for the razor blades. 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Under the lights we’re all just dreams manifest. Use the energy my star child. Fly!! As high your wings shall take thee.

Well this just opens itself to a world of puns from 2025. We have reviewed 10 albums from 1971 and this is the 10th from 1972. Did the musical world peak in these two years? Through my findings, I’d have to say absolutely not. But hey. The list loves these two years. We return to the Time Machine and turn that dial to the grooviest time for music and worst time for haircuts. Let’s. Get. SICKENING. How D’You Ride - well, slade, I sort of jump onto the board and put my foot near the… oh. He doesn’t care. He’s kinda shouting over me. Is this Sam Kinison? I like the general grit here, but the repetition is a lil bit nauseatin’ guvna. The Whole World’s Goin’ Crazee - It is?? Even back then? Nyah man. I thought these were the good ol days? It’s almost as if nostalgia colours the past and worry colours the present. Wild. Anyway, this song was truly horrible. Look at Last Nite - Hey fellas. Are we going to get a song without a misspelling here? This is going fairly well. Enjoying the bassline and the energy is there. Kind of trails off near the end unfortunately. I Won’t Let It ‘Appen Agen - The energy is getting more focused. It’s almost as if these guys are learning the craft of songwriting and musical theory as the album continues. I’m expecting a masterpiece by track uhhh SEVENTEEN. Oh blimey. Move Over - Cue that clip of the fans celebrating an Wngland goal in the World Cup. Beers everywhere for the correct spelling and for a HEAVY rock song here. Hell yeah. This style is so played out now, but having never heard this until now, it hits pretty hard for the day. Killer. Gudbuy T’Jane - I have to be honest, I don’t even know what this means. Well. There it is. Buddy enunciates way better than the song titles may advertise. She may be a queen, but this song is a tribute fit for a lowly countess of a regional hold in the *shudder* Eastern Reach. At best. Gudbuy Gudbuy - A tribute to Best Buy. Mama Weer All Crazy Now - man this thing went forever. I Don’t Mind - This is dragging fellas. We were supposed to be improving as time went on. Let the Good Times Roll/Feel So Fine - the song title takes up the whole text box here. It’s also taking up my time. I’m getting tired. I’m embarrassed. I went on a tirade about a bunch of songs that weren’t even in the album after this point. Well it wasn’t really a tirade. I just thought the album was too long. Can we just have a historically accurate discography database and let the freaks who want to listen to slightly louder guitar on Slade have their own wing in Spotify. I want to listen to the original release. Is that too much for a boy who may or may not be on the spectrum to ask??? Anyway. Slade asked me if they Slayed and mama, the house remains standing girl. I want to apologize to the band and especially the guy with the serf phenotype on the right. He looks like he needs it the most. Moments of fun, too much pap and in the end, simply not enough serving of the err, can I say that? I’ll let you enlightened readers fill in the last part. Tally ho. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: I Won’t Let It ‘Appen Agen, Move Over

Ah marquee moon. The gaunt visage that has launched a thousand music nerds into post-punk hysteria. The grainy, almost horror-like image aside, I have heard one or two songs from this out of sheer curiosity over the years. It never sunk its teeth into me the way, say “Antiques Roadshow” or Speed Network staple “PassTime” did. God help those who under estimate the drag racing prowess of the modified Chevrolet Nova. I know nothing about cars. Take it away music nerds, another day in the rarified air of pretension. See No Evil - Kane stars as Jacob Goodnight in See No Evil. Next time, see Kane runs for governor of Tennessee under the republican ticket with the campaign slogan of “Now I’m Actually Evil.” This song is catchy, frantic and has an excellent riff as its spine, holding up the ball of nervous flesh that makes up the rest of the song. Venus - You can really hear the influence that this album had moving forward. It’s interesting to hear it at its origin. While the combination of television and Venus flashes the razor commercial from the early 2000s into my mind like Korea flashbacks, this song is fine. Friction - Ah, this is the one I’ve heard recently. Spotify loves two things: Underpaying artists, and playing the same songs repeatedly. If you sit through a song in an attempt to get its full experience, that means you LOVED it and only want to hear it forever. That and MF DOOM. Jokes on you Spotify, I actually do like this song, but a man has to mix it up. Marquee Moon - The titular track. A comment on the concept of celebrity culture? Where the names on the marquee glow so bright as to obscure that which truly guides our path?Maybe it’s about light pollution. Either way, another interesting piece of odd music. Bit just odd. This song is technically proficient and combines that with lyrics and timbres that are resonating emotionally. Add that funky break during the outro. What a monster. Elevation - Ironically, a de-escalation. Not a full on freefall, but certainly an extreme downgrade from the previous few tracks. I actually find the repeated chorus and main riff to be extremely grating here. This has set us back a whole day on our voyage to the summit. Guiding Light - Who sends these infamous gifts? Who thought it would be a good idea to frame and gift wrap that obviously AI produced image of Abe Lincoln playing in that alligator poker tournament? And why isnt he winning? We got to get this guy OUT of the secret Santa circuit. Not acceptable behaviour. This song kind of sounds like that one love song in Shrek. Couldn’t name it if you had a gun to my head, but I pulled a “Jacob Goodnight” reference out of my ass a few songs back. Just the way the microplastics flow baby. This song was another snooze. Prove It - Almost wrote “Probe it” ERRRRRRMM is it time for my physical already??? Ugh. Anyway. These songs are losing much of their lustre. Torn Curtain - Ladies and Gentlemen (updated to include non-binary audience members) it’s the world’s skinniest band!! Alright. This is barely a song. The guitarist just wanted to do more stuff. I’m not even getting the emotional weight anymore. No matter how many times you say “tears.” With Marquee Moon echoing its final strains through my short term memory banks, I feel conflicted. On one hand, I Ioved many of the first few tracks and found them to be supremely creative and musical. On the other hand, as time went on, I couldn’t tell if I was fatigued, or if the musicians themselves were in a stupor. What started so fresh, got stale, but with the sheer excellence exhibited in the early stages, I have to tip my proverbial novelty sombrero to the most angular fellas in album cover history. You guys would’ve loved being instagram influencers. Pass me that remote, I think I’ll watch a bit more of this Television. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: See No Evil, Friction, Marquee Moon,

We’ve got the Stone Temple Pilots, The Rolling Stones, and now the Stone Roses. Well colour me confused. It’s another Monday. These weeks really do just keep goin’ don’t they? I now understand why the powers that be are intent on destroying the planet. Maybe in these trying times, one of the innumerable bands themed around BIG ROCK can provide a glimmer of light in the cosmic darkness. Or, maybe it’ll be a precursor to the band Bush and I’ll need to take a shower. I Wanna Be Adored - Oh is this going to be a “New York” album? We’ve got the subway screeching already. Very influenced by the Smiths, seemingly. Not a bad song. Has a decent melancholia and a solid musical spine. Not what I expected! She Bangs the Drums - When is the William Hung cover of “She Bangs” going to show up on here? Remember that guy? Where the whole world united around the idea that guy who doesn’t speak English well is funny for that very fact. This song is quiet and repetitive. Fades away a little for me. Waterfall - First stones and now waterfalls? How many geographic features are we going to get in this thing? I kind of started thinking about moss and lichen during this song. Very, very dull track. Don’t Stop - Now I need to remind longtime readers of my impenetrable journalism that I am indeed writing the song titles, to make my pithy observations more legible. I will endeavour to continue to make the same amount of typos and run-on sentences to ensure the reviews are as painful as ever. Speaking of painful, this song happened, and the low quality of it inspired me to inform the listening public that I would in now way be reusing the stoppage of this song. Bye Bye Bad Man - Here’s another drab, monotone song. Whatever. Elizabeth My Dear - The surefire way to get a good review out of me is to sound folky or medieval. Of course it’s a jokey interlude, but it was a nice song. Hope that kicks up the energy moving forward. (Song for My) Sugar Spun Sister - Now this is an upgrade. What a lovely melody. So much of this is ripped right from the 60’s, yet it has been updated for the modern (late 80’s) audience. Could use an album of songs like this. Made of Stone - They drove a dump truck full of money up to my house!!! I’m not made of stone!! Drive a Canyonero. Either this album or myself has been awakened by the Elizabeth interlude. A very nice song here. Shoot You Down - hey drone, you’ve done a great job up there, but unfortunately you’re in restricted airspace. Despite our pressing need for overhead pictures of the nearby landfill, we are going to have to shoot you down in a blaze of glory. Sincerely, the team at Air Force Dump. This song ruled. The jazz sensibilities mixed with the sweet melody make for another great song. This is the One - For what? The best song? It’s certainly not that, but it’s continuing in a pleasing vein. Not a bad lil track. I Am the Resurrection - I am reviewing conflicting reports of what the final song really is. I mean the ending of the last track (and its name) leads me to believe that was the album closer, but RYM says this is the last one, so we’ll go with that. Luckily it’s a nice one as well. Crazy long outro, but it still rocks fairly well. Roll that stone away, to find the tomb isn’t empty, it’s just filled with a cave bear who has a taste for British Power Pop. For such a colourful album cover, I was missing that vibrancy in the early parts of the album. I was bored and easily distracted, and I blamed the album. In the polar opposite sentiment of one’s Eugene Snitsky Esq; It WAS my fault. From the folk interlude “Elizabeth My Dear,” I was awakened and listened with a renewed sense of purpose. I need to go through this album again in order to give the early tracks the same care and attention but this was a beautiful release. Charming 60’s simplicity with updated 80’s aesthetics that made the self-titled debut a thoroughly enjoyable distraction on my interminable march towards lifetime employment. I’ll have the reports in by noon. 3.5-4 HIGHLIGHTS: I Wanna Be Adored, (Song for My) Sugar Spun Sister, Made of Stone, Shoot You Down