1001 Albums Summary

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 fast-track 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 Weezer 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, 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 Milhouse 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 seminal 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. 2.5-3 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 Helter Skelter invented metal. It did not, considering the song Black Sabbath was released ONE year later. 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 conceived 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 a song that would be 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 didn't 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. With a half point deducted for the slight monochromatic nature of this record, this is almost perfect. 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. 4.5 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 placed 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

The WWE’s favourite singer songwriter of all time. Tommy Waits. Swordfishtrombones and the hot dog flavoured water. Keep on rollin’ baby. Besides the nu-metal coded album title and the deeply upsetting album cover, I have been waiting for some Tom Waits. Underground - Whoa. This isn’t just an intro. He’s going with this voice the whole time eh? This was pretty cool. Shore Leave - HE SHOT BILLIARDS WITH WHOM?? Man this song is funny. It’s also so incredibly cool. I can’t remember the last time I talked baseball over Singapore slings at a Filipino floor show. That’s the kind of nonsense that puts what appears in its surface to be a white guy blues track onto an elevated plane. This thing is completely insane. I was one cigarette short of the cover to a Thai military pub. We ate river water ice cubes and spoke of monarchs 35 miles outside of Bangkok. More of this. Dave the Butcher - Insane carnival music. Did the Insane Clown Posse rip off our Tommy boy. Until then, he had the market cornered on clown music. Johnsburg, Illinois - What is happening? Now we’re in poorly sung show tune ballad territory. It has a magnetism to it, but man this was an experience. 16 Shells From a 30.6 - This seems like fake, pandering country, but that might even be the point here. What is a satchel of pig corn, and what does it have to do with the shells from what I can only assume is a gun? I cannot overstate how insane this feels. Town With No Cheer - None?? We gotta be talkin’ Red Deer. No? We have some bagpipes. Aye Tommy fit ya sayin en pal? Apparently he is saying interesting words in what is indeed a terrible song. I say that, but I’m still really enjoying it. In the Neighbourhood - This sounds like a drunk former country star who forgot the national anthem. I’m talking real drunk. Just making up stuff about his street because that’s the only point of reference he has to what his anthem may be. Tennessee Walker Sims XIV mentions Filipino people once again. Becoming a theme. This is captivating, if nothing else. Just Another Sucker on the Vine - Mardi Gras interlude. Throw your beads. Wake up this scotch drunk crooner. Frank’s Wild Years - Poor Carlos. Get that dog some spectacles. I LOVE this. Bizarre, funny, beat poetry. This is the kind of thing I wish I could do. I will have this on repeat. Swordfishtrombone - The bass is so good here, and I am enjoying some white guy doing samba music? What is happening. Lyrics that continue to ratchet up the intrigue and a song that really came together here. Down, Down, Down - Oh god is this the inspiration for the Wire’s theme song that somehow stretches 6 seasons or whatever? Kind of a middling affair here. Simmering. Soldier’s Things - uhhh. I uhhh. This was kinda bad. Gin Soaked Boy - This album sounds like it’s soaked in more than just gin. A veritable potpourri of alcoholic beverages. A cool blues song and that has shocked me to my core. Trouble’s Braids - More beat poetry. Passing out wolf tickets, downwind from the bloodhounds. Incredible lyricism and a joy to listen to. Rainbirds - A exeunt worthy of a lamb. More jazz sensibilities with gentle piano closing out this chaotic expedition. Now this is an album that speaks to me. Sure, most of the speaking is drunken shouting through a speakerphone, but it kept me enthralled for its entire duration. Were there bad songs? Yup. Were there songs that were so bad they were good? Yes, indeed. Were there beautiful poetic songs that sounded like my ideal vision of what music could be? Kind of, yeah. Tom Waits shot the lights out here. Catch me listening to this through a Walkman outside a bazaar in the Carpathian Mountains. I traded my last furs for the extended cut of this album and two Portuguese Fantas. Imports. Real smooth. Ill nurse one of those whilst bathing in the guilty afterglow of a day’s rest. 3.5-4 HIGHLIGHTS: Shore Leave, Frank’s Wild Years, Swordfishtrombone, Trouble’s Braids

Spotify appears to be broken today, delaying an album that, from its cover, does not excite me. What do we have going on here? A swooning woman in the arms of a guy who just came second in a Rick Astley lookalike contest and is about to shoot up the place. That has to be it. His lip sync rendition of uhh one of Rick Astley’s other songs was a surefire winner in his mind. The stage was set, the suit, the hair, the woman on his arm. Shattered. The PA reverberates with the name of his crosstown rival. How did he win with “Never Gonna Give you Up”. Is he even an appreciator of Rick? With the sharp fall of his hopes, the indignant rage began to rise. S is for snubnose, and the judges of the first annual Astley Pageant will pay. Heads will Rick Roll. Show Me - We’re getting supremely funky. Hey pal, how about you stop showing me whatever this is. A mildly funky bassline as a vehicle for a particularly boring exhibition of the new wave du jour. Yawn. It’s not horrible; but I’m over this genre. Poison Arrow - The Whispers called and they said “Hey, I’m that cool band with the two twin singers and you stole our bassline from “And the Beat Goes On.” Wow. A real transcribed phone call from the Whispers? In my review? This is truly a golden age. This has gone too long. Many Happy Returns - Ehhh. It’s just not great is it? The lyrics are the most interesting part, but even those are kind of rote and predictable in places. Nothing is horrible, I’m just not that into this song either. Well. That riff and vocal breakout around the halfway point kind of dragged this one out of the doldrums for me. That was a heavyweight minute or so. Alright. Tears Are Not Enough - What will be enough? How about Fears? Valentine’s Day - If the cover isn’t bluffing and we are going to have a massacre, this would be the track to do it on. Nothing happening here. The Look of Love Pt.1 - The most popular song according to Spotify statistics. The funk does go pretty hard, but the surroundings disappoint me. I guess I’m judging the book by the cover and in turn, the look by the lover? Whatever the hell that means. I didn’t study for this test. Date Stamp - Another bass driven disco pop song. Autocorrect doesn’t correct “akso” to “also,” but it will make “Disco” “Discount” AND “Dick.” There is probably some crass joke in there somewhere. I’ll leave that to the imagination of the reader. Go ahead. Eh. That wasn’t very good. It’s ok. You’ll get em next time champ. All of My Heart - Oh here we go. The attempted hit. The least genuine moment in the album and of course the least likeable. Painful even. Besides the bizarre outro. 4 Ever 2 Gether - I love replacing parts of words and even entire words (see for/4). So that’s a hit. This was more of the same. The little break in the middle was sufficiently odd. The Look of Love Pt. 4 - We skipped parts two and three. That’s the kind of band ABC is. I’m surprised they’re not called ADE. I was asked “Is this not interesting,” and I was stopped in my tracks. So much of my criteria comes down to if something sounds interesting and genuine. I think this album has many moments that check those amorphous boxes. So what’s the issue? Why didn’t I enjoy this experience? I think I’ve figured out what it is that doesn’t click between myself and this particular lexicon; the pop sensibilities. The disco key stabs, the choruses begging for radio play, the new wave imitation. All abysmal. This is by no means the worst album I’ve ever heard. Hell, it’s not even the worst album I’ve heard in the past fortnight, but this was still all kinds of lame. This ABC was not impossible to get through, but certainly not as easy as 123. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Learning the true meaning of Christmas. Or was it love?

It’s not often that I spoil an album for myself by looking at the reviews on this site. Since every review gets posted, these are often as thoughtful as “dis was o k - 5 stars,” but this time, the word “Ska” was thrown around. A lot. Surprisingly, I don’t hate ska right from the get go, and I’m willing to give these crazy kids a chance, and if the fedora to band member ratio doesn’t let me down, we’re in for a treat. A Message to You Rudy - Are you listening Rudy? Put down that football, ya goof. The Specials are talking to you via reggae. I was promised ska. Not just reggae. I know this isn’t for me, it’s directly addressed to Rudy, but Jesus this is tough. Do the Dog - Do WHAT to the dog?? I hope this wasn’t the message to Rudy. With the popular connotations associated with “doing” someone, I enter this song with a mouth full of vomit and heart full of sorrow. Fortunately, we’re far more punk here and I can breathe easier. Good to have some energy. Especially those drums. It’s Up to You - I’ve been listening to this song for close to three minutes, and I have to ask. Who is it up to? I don’t think they were clear enough here. Since I will not receive a response, I will just leave this track having never known. Nite Klub - A spelling lesson from the Specials renders me speechless. Questioning every word I’ve ever written now. This song is pretty decent. Fun in places for sure. Just anuther deescent songe. Doesn’t Make it Alright - The meaningful track. With how trashy ska is perceived as being in today’s climate, it is kind of jarring to hear somebody attempt to drive a message right to the heart. I think the message here is a bad song, and the heart isbarely beating in the chest of a centuries old vampiric emperor. That means this song is tragically horrible. Despite the well-meaning lyrical content. Concrete Jungle - HOWAY THE LADS. Oh what are we doing? Get some football hooliganism on the go. I feel like standing near fighting that is happening because two teams of guys from all over the world are playing a game to the tune of a 1-1 draw. I would like the chanting to return, please. Too Hot - How about, Too much like UB-40? Lyrics aside, musically this is less London gang anthem and more Sandals Jamaica spot during a midday airing of the Price is Right. You’re losing me here fellas. Try to reel (big fish) it in. Monkey Man - I am anticipating a song that is a complete departure from previous form and is about a man who crossed his genes with a monkey in a lab, and instead of gaining the dexterity of a chimp with the intelligence of a human, he gained a senseless lust for bananas and a yearning for violence for all those who stand in the way of his favoured potassium source. No? It’s another boring ska jam? Perfect. (Dawning of a) New Era - the crazy punk vocals following the gang shouts are cool, I suppose. First bit of life I’ve gotten from this in quite some time. Rest is a bore. Blank Expression - Boring. The same song gets the same review. Stupid Marriage - I don’t know man, could it be as stupid as this song? Too Much Too Young - Hey, you know how you have a loving partner and a child? Forget that, you should be out paying for the drinks of a fedora clad lead singer of a very lame ska band. Doesn’t that sound good? This guy really hates marriage hey? Little Bitch - The classic reprisal from any spurned man. I suppose the lady didn’t take the tempting offer of abandoning her family for a few thrilling minutes in the sak with ska boy and now he’s mad. Bring on the name calling!! This song sucks, for the record. You’re Wondering Now - oh I’m wondering alright. Which number that is less than 3 will this thing get?? Hmmm. So many options! I don’t think this was a concept album considering the transition from the detailing of the boys of the streets of London and their general rudeness, to the attempted infidelity anthem(s) near the close. In saying that, there was certainly a prevailing theme of immense boredom. This music is so obnoxious to stretch over an entire album. How long this 44 minutes felt should be illegal. I’ve had more fun doing taxes. I give this credit for having moments of punk energy, but I immediately take away those imaginary points for the lame horns on repeat, the same reggae riff (THERE IS ONLY ONE), and the schoolboy lyrics. The hats can only take you so far fellas, and what was fun once, is definitely not fun stretched over the longest 3 quarters of an hour this side of Guantanamo. Right bruv, this fing is a dog’s breakfast, y’know what I mean? Haven’t got a scooby what these geezers are on about. Take the star n a half and catch the chube back to Camden. 1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Do the Dog (Please don’t, and if you’re listening, by god Rudy go on and win that damn Fresca bowl you little scamp.)

A drizzly Monday evening finds me at home, with the window open starting what appears to be the saddest album ever written. At least the guy on the front looks like they just closed the MEC closest to his ethical encampment at the base of the mountain he hallucinated on his ayahuasca retreat. May his flannel rest gently over his mending heart, and may the shipping on the carabiners/gu-gels be reasonably priced. This is a good time to mention that I’m using the desktop Spotify today and my big headphones. Should every album receive this attention? Yes. Will it? No. Do you realize how many television programs and books and games and also foods and outdoor activities and music exists?? I also have to spend most of my hours chained to a desk and the rest in a comatose state of rest, so some of these get hit on the fly or at work. Sue me. Hold that thought. Let’s wait and see what the worlds saddest hiker is about to uncover. Under the Pressure - A title track this early? What did we do to deserve this kind of simplistic album pacing? Oh god, this is a Bryan Adams vocal line. Big shit. The label is Secretly Canadian but I didn’t expect them to take it that literally. You know what this song could use? Drugs. This 9 minutes has felt like considerably more than that. Red Eyes - 170,000,000 plays. What a treat. This sounds nice-ish. Has that washed out sound from the first track with a little more purpose. Still kind of millennial wedding-y and really hammered home the boredom by the end Suffering - I’d say I’m getting close to that, yeah. Oh wait, he wasn’t asking me. I’m really happy this is a 6 minute song. Fuck this would’ve ruined my Good Friday. I was riding a high on that crucifixion and this would’ve plummeted me right into the doldrums of resurrection. Sad really. Pass me that phone. If the pharmacist can’t increase my Prozac, I’m turning to crime. An Ocean In Between the Waves - Bryan Adams trying to be sensitive. Just admit you like Corey hart and Bryan Adams dude. Nobody will make fun of you. Don’t dress it up as 2014 indie. It’s ok. Be yourself. Disappearing - The clue is “what will this album will be doing from the listener’s memory 5-10 seconds after ending.” Start the clock. Oh I know this one, ugh hurting, no that doesn’t make grammatical sense uhhh emanating? No uhhhh oh oh oh DISAPPEARING *ding ding ding ding ding* YEEEEEAAHHHHH. Congratulations music reviewer! In completing your own password, your reviews have won immunity from criticism. Such is the gift of this website given up for you. Eyes to the Wind - No wonder your eyes are so red. Between the MEC closing, the wind, and of course the drugs, I’m surprised you’ve got any intact blood vessels left. Rest your weary corneas here my good man. Wait for this bus stop of a song to be over and dry those tears. Bob Dylan called, he said stop busking in his voice at the bus stop. The Haunting Idle - At least there are no vocals here. Best thing so far. Burning - We’re back to the 80’s after our foray into a world without a vocalist. While it was boring, it was less painful. A reprieve from the horrors. Neutrality felt blissful. Lost in the Dream - Man, how is there still almost 12 minutes to get through here. This is more quiet, poppy, country tinged boredom. Usually these things are lyrically weighty, but I’m finding nothing is grabbing me there either. It could be I’m just too intellectually dull to keep up with this millennial Bob Dylan impersonator who headlines a third rate university campus’ pub. Yeah. It’s probably that. I have been outpaced in the neurological arms race by slob Dylan. In Reverse - Welp. I throw my right hand over the passenger seat after putting the car into reverse. I slowly lift off the brake as I begin to roll backwards. I then jam the gas and mow down a commemorative peanut statue en route to plunging my 01 Camry to the briny depths beneath the pier. It’s a good life down here. And to see that smug peanut float down next to me, makes this a peaceful exeunt. Makes me almost not hate this song so bad. I am so bored. Talk about end of long weekend blues. I had to check my pulse near the end there. I think the almost decent minute or so of “In Reverse” reminded me that I’m on planet earth. If that’s indeed the true name of our planet. It could be M’aarthoum N’ak N’aa or as the Chortillian hordes of the sixteen moons once referred to it, Spylon the Eye of the Outer Ring. Wipe that dust from your outer eye ring and look towards the infinity of space. Succumb to the silence of its enveloping eternity. But first, turn this album off. Play something bitchin’ like Gangrel’s Theme Song. This thing? Nobody can hear me scream up here. 0.5-1 HIGHLIGHTS: The Haunting Idle

Another “matter of time” artist. It wasn’t a matter of “if,” it was always a matter of when, we’d see this gaunt songwriter stampede his way into our eardrums. Please be gentle Tommy (n’ friends). I have my reservations about this whole thing. Ugh. Rockin’ Around (With You) - Am I ever glad he specified that he wasn’t just rockin’ around with any floozy, but it was me. Why don’t I remember this? Problematic already. I don’t care that it was the 70’s! Breakdown - Ooh the fake accent. That’s not ideal. Slow, plodding, brings to mind old people past their prime. Hometown Blues - Primordial Bruce Springsteen that I can smell from the future. Yuck. I feel like I’m an upper middle manager who peaked in my senior year of high school, reminiscing about the glory days. Sharing some soda pops with my varsity football pals Melvin and Doug. I slapped a non consenting waitress on the ass as she walked by. It was all for show. God only knows I only had eyes for that jukebox, as I knew, Tom Petty had just come out with his debut album, and I knew If I hid under the table and timed it just right after closing time, I could sneak up to that music machine, peer through the glass at the fresh vinyl selections of the day and I could indeed, fuck that jukebox. The Wild One, Forever - This is in a movie I think. It also sounds like it was sung intentionally bad. I’ve fallen into the trap before of wanting to be the star of your own creation, but this singing tells me two things: 1. Tom can delegate about as well as he sings 2. Tom can’t sing. Anything that’s Rock ‘N’ Roll - So many apostrophes. I feel like I’m transcribing rap lyrics or a Dusty Rhodes promo. I can’t enjoy teenager rock from 20 years prior to my debut on this toilet earth. It’s substance-free for me. Strangered in the Night - I like the concept of becoming strangered. Best thing to happen to this album so far. But they’re saying strangers? Oh god. Is this mistitled? Oh no. It’s race baiting. Tom Petty, the original Blue Lives Matter poster. I kid the man. This is the best song by far. Another Cringeworthy Album Befalls (us). Whatever. I needed the letters. Fooled Again (I Don’t Like It) - This is me every day during this album review. I’m writing a response track to this called Fooled Again (I Do Like It), and it’s about me going to a magic show. How in the hell does he know what my card is? And don’t even get me started on the rabbit thing. Sensational. This isn’t horrific. Sounds a little Beavis and Butthead-y. Mystery Man - Not too too bad, but not good. Almost reggae at points which started to whir the old suicide machine (brain) towards its self-destructive worst. So let’s calls this a loss and move on. Luna - His vocals are corny to the point where I’m chuckling, but the cooler moments are certainly the better moments on this record. Congratulations Thomas. American Girl - I prefer American Woman. What a horrible country. Anyway. This song is more teeny-bopper goofiness that screams “you had to be there.” Like most people who would review happy music this negatively, not one word of this song provides any focal point of relation to me. And the updated riverboat/Starsky and Hutch breakdown doesn’t leave me thrilled to have been here. Tom Petty and his group of merry misfits came, saw, played some relics, and ultimately went to bed early with no soup. That’s the punishment I bestow upon bands from the past who disappoint me. And the thing is? There is bound to be a night that at least one of them didn’t have soup. Yup. That was me. How can I prove that? How can you prove that this album is one of the 1001 most impactful ever? Exactly. Stay in your lane, and I’ll stay in mine. I’ve still got to figure out how to clean out this damn jukebox. That coach has got to get those kids under control. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Strangered in the Night, Luna

Ah drag. The wonderful art form deemed too spooky by the world’s dumbest. I am inclined to give this album some credit already, but that would simply be unfair. We have returned to the 70’s once again on this arduous trudge to musical Mordor. Is this punk? Rock? Who knows. Enter the dollhouse. Leave your shake and go wig at the door. Personality Crisis - Oh god the piano is dreadful. The vocals though. That’s a redemption arc. Good punk energy. Solid opener. Looking for a Kiss - Yes. Wise choices abound. Get rid of the piano. Gruff rock music with a foot firmly planted in the world of punk. Very good despite the horrifying sound effects near the end. God, I hate intimacy. Vietnamese Baby - This infant is from Vietnam and we are going to sing a loud song about it. I can’t dissect this too heavily for multiple reasons. The primary reason being my lack of musical expertise and inability to express the intangible emotions associated with listening to a decent song. Lonely Planet Boy - A quieter, gentler New York Doll. Kind of a silly one, but it seems to have a sense of humour. Context is so important. I could actually see parts of this appearing on albums in the late 90’s. Those dreamlike sighs at parts could absolutely show up later in music history. Not my favourite, but certainly interesting. Frankenstein - I love the vocals here. Not necessarily a comment on this specific song but it just gets reinforced as I move through this thing. The screams at the end are so emotionally vibrant and bordering on unhinged. The repetition even adds to the frantic atmosphere. Hell yeah. Trash - Don’t ask this guy anything, alright. Let’s just play it safe. Man this has a sweet drive to it along with a fun melody and a very creative chorus arrangement. I think that’s what this is called. Who cares. Song sound gud. Bad Girl - The moment of truth. A song referencing a girl. Will she be of age? Bruce Springsteen couldn’t do it. Hell, half the artists on this list refer to little girls or whatever, so this could really sour me. No mention so far! Gotta get some love before the planet is gone. Subway Train - all aboard the Subway train. A choo choo chariot en route to every subway franchise this side of the mighty Mississip’. Load me up with some ham and cheese footlongs and don’t skimp on the banana peppers. On second thought, hand me that puke bag, the subway crawl was a bad idea. This song was a let down too. Not horrible, but a slight let up Pills - Surely they’re talking about pills that help manage cholesterol or other life saving care that is available to us now in this advancing world. Prison music off the bat. Kind of stays there. Private World - It really do be a private world. At least I’m convinced now after hearing the phrase 279 times. I hate that this is dragging slightly. Jet Boy - Jet Boy was born with an impossibly rare genetic condition where he was born with steam propulsion capabilities. Will he use it for good? Or will he become a scalding geyser of evil? This song is an excellent collection of riffs. A wake up call of a final track. If the New York Dolls got in and out in 35 minutes instead of 45, this probably would’ve been a classic. It’s still pretty damn good, but there was repetition that felt like there was a time quota to hit here. Besides the minimal negatives, this thing was aggressive, fresh, and ultimately very fun for most of its track listing. It’s nice to hear some in your face punk attitude once in a while, and this thing insists that it’s heard and that parents don’t like it. Slap on your dancing heels, don your slay-est wig, and confound the establishment. Punk lives. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Looking for a Kiss, Frankenstein, Trash, Jet Boy

What a powerhouse combo. A mentally ill horse and Crazy Horse?? I kid poor Neil, but I’ve never been able to get behind his odd vocal delivery. That sounds like blasphemy considering my nationality AND my enjoyment of folk music, but I just haven’t been able to get behind the crooner of the free world. To be fair, my exposure to him has been minimal (hence my reference to his big hit) but nothing so far. Please make this good. I’m losing my once ample street credit by the barrel. My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue) - Oh alright. I know this one. I hate any lyric that uses the phrase “rock n’ roll” but I’ll be damned if this isn’t a beautiful song and performance of said song. Could do without the moronic whooping from the crowd but a hell of a start. Even with a harmonica solo. What is happening to me? Thrasher - This one is entitled “murder in the pit.” Oh it’s about threshers. The song itself is pretty dull, but imagining the beautiful scene lyrically painted by Neil Young, interspersed with he emergence of denim clad long hairs, makes this a fun one in a sense. Ride my Llama - I will not AND I don’t think Neil rode from Peru to TexArkana. Not even possible. This song is incredibly mid and whilst I abhor such a lack of detail, I’m also losing my cognitive abilities by the hour. Pocahontas - YIKES. “I would give a thousand pelts to sleep with Pocahontas, to find out how she felt.” Indigenous cosplay and fetishization all in one. At least the wordplay on that line is there, but otherwise, this set reparations back a millennium. Sail Away - Would you? That would be great. No more teepee content, Neil, please. You grew up in Winnipeg, be more aware. Oh never mind. It was the 70’s!!! I feel like I’m writing that every day. This is the big pop hit, but can’t hold a candle to Christopher Cross’ “Sailing.” I’d like to hold a candle to both this song and the Cross one. I’m sure the sugary boredom would ensure an easily touchable husk. Powderfinger - Look out Mama, there’s a white boy singing some boring rock. Oh did he say boat? Whatever. Welfare Mothers - Oooooohh mama, rockin’ on down to the crazy rock n’ roll party *clap clap*. Raucous butt rock of the most stale and boomerly persuasion. Sedan Delivery - Back that freighter up to port, we need to unload these 2002 Toyota Echos into their natural habitat; Rural Nova Scotia. This is damn near a punk song that makes me think of shitty sedans, so this is a ten star classic. How he pulled this out after like 8 tracks of the most inoffensive, boring dad rock I’ve ever heard is a Christmas miracle. Hey Hey, My My (Into the Black) - The outro? The same pretty song ans the first, except with a loud riff. Juxtaposition is whatever. I don’t know if you read any of that, but Neil still doesn’t appeal to me. There’s a distinct lack of likability to his voice, and while the poetry has its moments, I leave nonplussed by the Canadian’s output here. There’s the first track, which is great, and then I had to wait until the penultimate song to enjoy myself again. This album is thoroughly forgettable and will leave me here, wondering what it is I did to deserve bad albums playing in my ears 4-5 days a week. Oh yeah. I signed up for it. Maybe I’m the crazy one. You can lead a crazy horse to his anti-psychotics, but you can’t make him adhere to his prescribed medication regimen. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue), Sedan Delivery

I’d have to check the tape, but we have to be nearing the end of albums handed out by Jack Black in 2003’s School of Rock. We had Blondie, Yes, uhhh this? Whatever. That one anecdote in my head rattles next to the surging endorphins precipitated by seeing this album come up. Jimi Hendrix?? Fantastic? This album cover? An LSD trip in an Indian art museum. Three miles from my body in the Bombay art district imagining gods emerging from each of my infinite arms. Fire up that guitar. Literally. Set it on fire. EXP - Luckily I just wolfed down a jumbo bag of Doritos and chugged a full water cooler of Mountain Dew. Not only am I in the throes of strychnine poisoning, but I have double EXP for this opening track. I can see through the eons. The walls are melting around me. Lucky I’m made of wax. Change states. Up From the Skies - What happened?? Jimi?? No. Oh wait. It’s actually not bad. Wanted this to go harder though. Spanish Castle Magic - The most feared magic of all. If you run into somebody named Raul Esquillo Monserrat IV, run as far as you can before you are turned into one of the many turrets on his labyrinthine castle on the Basque coast. This riff rules. Perhaps I am under el spell of said magic. Wait Until Tomorrow - See this track title is very misleading, because he says that we don’t have to wait until tomorrow and he says it like 68 times. That’s about 64 or so too many. Not my favourite. Ain’t No Telling - If the last song title is any indication, I assume that there WILL be telling here. I’m not sure I can handle this rollercoaster. This song is quite good. Frantic pace, interesting lyrics, and brings a polished and heavy feel to music that sounds almost improvised in parts. Little Wing - I actually recently accessed my third eye and wrote this song myself about a raw deal I was forced to endure at a local purveyor of chicken wings. I intend to sue over the lacklustre quality and sizing of the wings in the supposed “extreme beast dipper basket.” This song is whatever. If 6 Was 9 - then 96 would be the funny number. Really makes you think. And if good songs were bad, this would be a total dud. You Got Me Floatin’ - A more middle of the road song here. Just kind of “floatin’” there. Castles Made of Sand - Sad stuff. Excellent song. Gentle musical moment with excellent psychedelic effects enhancing virtuosic guitar playing. She’s So Fine - Somehow a 50’s diner song has appeared on Axis. It still has many of the elements that make this album interesting, but not the greatest. One Rainy Wish - I almost want to leave this one blank. So very boring. Little Miss Lover - Cool. I mean lame song title that I criticize most of these old foagies for, but this song rocked pretty good. Bold as Love - Guitar solo closer went pretty hard. Way to go Jimothy. This felt like a bad trip a few times. I wanted to see technicolor deities unbeknownst to my western eyes, but instead I discovered that I may have indeed taken too small a dose and barely hallucinated some strange colours on the BNN stock ticker in the muffler shop waiting room. There are amazing songs on this thing, and there are songs that were boring. Nothing terrible, and a lot great, so while I was underwhelmed, that’s high praise when it comes to the Dirty 1001 that I am currently being dragged through. Kudos to Jimi. Use one of those arms to give yourself a pat on the back. Heck, get the whole band. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Spanish Castle Magic, Ain’t No Telling, If 6 Was 9

1962?? I would’ve guessed this came out way later, based on absolutely nothing. I’ve maybe heard one song off of this, but with the mention of Booker T reminding me of a legendary wrestler Booker T, this band has always stuck in my mind. On hand, you have cool wrestler, and in the other hands gross vegetables, so this really could go either way. Fire up that HiFi Sucka. Green Onions - Ok I do know this one obviously. What a hoss of a track. Nasty guitars, cool groove. Great way to start. Rinky Dink - I am 100% devastated that I know this song due to the sample used in that dumb Pitbull (?) song that was a MIB remake tie in. Sometimes I really do agree that culture has completely disintegrated. Unlike future interpretations, this song is rad as hell. Excellent organ and percussion interplay, fun melody and another grimy guitar solo. I Got a Woman - Congratulations? Or, should we be alerting the authorities? With no vocals, the prisoner status of said woman is up in the air. Man, does this thing ever keep rolling. No breaks in the energy whatsoever. Mo’ Onions - Stop trying to correct my apostrophized words. If I can’t adhere the requests of Booker T or even the gosh darn MG’s, then what am I even doing here? As if we hadn’t had enough onions, we return to the general feel of track 1 for a reprise. The song so good, they had to play it twice. Twist and Shout - This song started before I got the title out and I was going to make fun of it, saying it sounded like Twist and Shout. Boy am I embarrassed!!! This song sounds best when belted out by an aggressively Scottish football crowd. Some excellent clips out there. I can’t spoon feed you everything. Come on. Behave Yourself - sweet lord. May the heavens open and bestow upon the children a bitchin’ organ blues song. Lo! May there be sweat drenched keys of the MG’s guide those who are lost into the comfort of misery. This thing accidentally made me religious. Organ music that is nowhere near the riverboat reel category and I’m in bliss. Ascension guaranteed. Stranger on the Shore - Perhaps I rocked too hard in the last track and I really am feeling the sands of the afterlife push through my toes. The embrace of death has never felt so sweet. Lonely Avenue - Computer. Play Blues. No. That is TOO funky. God this rules. One Who Really Loves You - This band has built up so much good will with me, that this slightly less interesting foray into cleanliness is not abhorrent. Damn it’s actually really good. This whole losing brain power thing is really working out. You Can’t Sit Down - Oh no. Why? IS MY CHAIR MADE OF LAVA AGAIN??? NOOO. It took 14 geologists two years to figure that out. I almost died due to volcanic ash exposure. My dog turned into an igneous rock. You think YOUR 2021 was bad. Ha! Anyway. Another fun track. Can’t go wrong with this thing. A Woman, A Lover, A Friend - if your woman, lover, or friend likes organ music, boy are they in for a treat. Another one from the five time five time five time five time five time (and then that 6th as king booker) champs. Comin’ Home Baby - An excellent fade to black as I slowly pack up my belongings and collect the remnants of flesh pooling at my feet after having my face melted for 35 minutes or so. The best way to ensure your album will be either incredibly boring or inspired beyond belief is to omit the vocalist. This album falls firmly into the latter category. The “lattergory” if you will. I’m really trying to save time in the future, so I’ve got to condition people to all my cool new hybrid words. You may say, “hey. Those aren’t cool.” To that, I say; that really hurt my feelings and I think I’m going to quit everything I enjoy. Thanks a lot. Asshat. Back to the Booker T. This album resembled green onions in many ways. Sharp flavour, Fresh snap to everything. The only way it wasn’t like green onions, is that this thing was the whole damn meal. I’ll be scouring the produce aisle known as this list for a long time before I discover anything this good again. Do a spinaroonie in celebration of Green Onions. 4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Green Onions, Rinky Dink, Behave Yourself, Lonely Avenue

YES. No new wave or Britpop today baby. WOOOO *shoots guns in the air* HA HA WOOOO. Alright. I’ve been told by my parole officer that even writing about a celebratory gun shot could have me back in Sing Sing by the end of the week, so I would like to apologize and rescind my earlier firearms based enthusiasm. I will however load this water gun full of champagne and what? No? Ugh. Get in a drunken brawl with a mannequin ONE time and I’m paying for it with my life. This world is the true prison. Miles. Ease the pain, would you? Move - These drum fills are electrifying. Extremely apt song title as this thing rips along really nicely. Jeru - The Damaja? Fun fact. No matter what I do with this site, when it reloads it brings up my review of Jeru the Damaja’s 1994 epic “The Sun Rises in the East.” A classic to be sure, but I am confounded by the daily appearance. No rambling can take away the smoothness of this track. Less exhilarating, but musically excellent and smooth as anything. Moon Dreams - Even smoother. The arms of wrought iron and synthetic steel dust the lunar surface. At one with the dusts of the orbiting giver of night’s warm glow. Bask in the majesty of earth’s warm presence. Glide through the cosmos. Venus De Milo - Mr. Simpson NOOOOOOO. What a shift in tone. This one is a little repetitive, but not bad at all. Obviously the big chart topper. Miles you scamp. Budo - I lack the knowledge to critique each and every note, but I will say I’m enjoying myself, and if that isn’t the true meaning of any of this, I don’t know what is. Deception - Really liked the energy of this one. What a crucial track review. “Can’t miss” writing from yours truly. You really have to hang on my every word. Godchild - He loves this godchild. Excellent bass based spine through this sucker. Boplicity - I don’t even know what this could possibly mean, but I’m all about fake words. Rocker - The Marty Janetty song. The drugs Israel - Uh oh. Good call on the lack of lyrics here. Don’t want to get too political on the track. They probably should stop slaughtering children. Rouge - This is another shade of red! And a makeup. I’m sorry I have nothing to say about the music. I am a fraud. Darn that Dream - AHHHHHH NO KILL IT AHH. Sorry. After half an hour of a vocalist free album, this weirdo nestling up to the mic kind of ruined my day. A rare stinker. Hmm. This was an interesting experiment. On one hand, it was enjoyable. Some real high points throughout and a general vibe that I enjoy. No lame 80’s pop disguised as meaningful art, no David Bowie. Life is good. However, I thought this was a little too “friendly” in places. Too many big band elements to take this onto a higher plane. John Coltrane and Miles Davis autoplayed after this and I can say with confidence that’s more my style. More improvisation, more left turns. Birth of the Cool is cool to be certain, but is it a full five piece purple suit with the sweet top hat and the bronze walrus topped cane? It most certainly isn’t. Oh well. None of us are born at our full evolution. Hey, im still picking glass out of my hair from when I tackled that mannequin off the second floor of the Bay. Damn government. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Move, Deception

I can smell this one from here. Shitty weed mixed with the pungent aroma of a festival outhouse beckons me to a death that I will almost assuredly be grateful for. If for no other reason than the cessation of this album. 73 minutes of beer belly stink rock from the guys who brute forced a fan base based off of uh, nothing? Well that’s where I start this thing. Change my mind. Dark Star - XIRON DARKSTAR. Exumer reference. Forgot about the song until I saw this title. Now that is an electrifying vocal refrain. Had to go listen to that before I started here. That is a looooooong intro for like three whispered lines of dialogue. This is what the roadie plays while you’re waiting for the band to come out. They sound shy. That contact high can be anxiety provoking. Happens to the best of us. BOOOOO is the sound that blares over the aimlessly meandering guitar in the Fillmore West. It’s me via Time Machine trying to stop what is barely happening on stage. If you don’t hear me, the defrabulator malfunctioned on my TM (Time Machine) and I couldn’t make it. It was that or the numbers got all fucked up. The sentiment remains ageless. A hearty “boo” to all involved. I do like the lyrics though. There. End on a positive. Saint Stephen - Is this about the New Brunswick border town? That town is actually more exciting than this. Mostly due to the abject danger of being in that close proximity to the worst nation on earth. The lyrics appeal to me once again, but the music sounds like Lynyrd Skynyrd pretending to be left wing. The singing is lame and lazy as well. I think the first song tired them out. The Eleven - Well this song starts cooler. That’s a relief. I couldn’t handle any more listless guitar work. This has some welcome chaos but it is again, way too long. Turn on Your Love Light - Gross. This is the worst thing so far. Can’t even bring myself to call it a song. This sounds like if Jim Morrison OD’d and came back with permanent brain trauma. Way too happy, way too aimless. Truly terrible. And quiet the people down. We get it. You grew up in a religious household and now you’ve tried weed. Hurry up and cause the housing crisis already. Any decent riff is immediately derailed by a bad improvisation. I get it. Improvising is hard and they sound cohesive. That takes talent. I’m not here for a talent show with screaming fans. This is braindead. He screams to shock the moronic fans awake. I hate this with a burning passion. I don’t have a “love light,” but if I did, it would be smashed amongst the crushed needles and discarded flower headbands following this cursed gathering of society’s most inebriated nerds. Death Don’t Have No Mercy - You got that right. Or wrong? We’re in double negative city here. Death indeed comes when it’s not wanted and waits far too long for those who suffer the most. I won’t wish death on anybody in this unseen music review, but we’re nearing that point. Another TEN minute song. At least they’ve gone quiet. This is a real showcase for the singer. You know the showcase that you’d definitely trade for the other showcase during Price is Right. The organ is interesting and the song isn’t horrific outside of the poorly recorded vocal passages, but too little too late. Feedback - Best thing going by a mile, but they still found a way to be kind of boring. And We Bid You Goodnight - Thank you. This is the best song. Hey. That feedback and the odd church closer was the best thing by far. Sounds like it finally lulled everybody into their eternal rest or at least a light coma. This is not for me or anybody currently in the throes of sobriety. Even with caffeine and anti-depressants on board, I couldn’t get the buzz needed to see any value in this. And yes, it’s passé to talk about drugs for the entirety of a Grateful Dead review, so I will simply critique the long barren stretches that failed to create atmosphere, the miserable revival church track that nearly purged my breakfast on its own and the remarkably unremarkable playing that was again, too long for an album. I am grateful that this experience is over, and? I’m grateful that my glimpses into the world of The Grateful Dead told me all I needed to know before it was unfurled before me today. This is their best? I pity those who have dedicated their lives to this. In or out of the band. Somebody crack a window. This bad boy is RIPE. 0.5-1 HIGHLIGHTS: Apostles fold their hands in petrified reverence beneath the labyrinthine maw. Hovering. One of three sightings. Magnetized room drags pews inverse. Unctuous tears bead from eyes cast to floor. Mixing with the plasma from stigmata wounds now gaping. Stained glass strains under interdimensional demonic whispers. Consecrated blood shall fill baptismal fonts. Seek servitude or suffer decimation. Pray for rapture.

Well. Can’t say I expected this. The Grateful Dead and Beyoncé in one week. Hell, in two days. Hell is a recurring theme in my reviews and in my mind Beyoncé’s name bellows through the caverns of Hell as you’re dragged through the gates. Yes, white man doesn’t like Beyoncé. Think what you will, but I’ve always found her voice to be grating, and the songs to lack structure and musicality to the point where I’m baffled that it appeals to the mainstream. Now, with my biases laid bare to my nonexistent readership, let us take flight and ascend to the rarified air held by pop’s most overrated songstress. Let me get my air sickness bag ready. Pretty Hurts - My aspiration is to get past this as soon as possible. Right off the bat, this reminds me of having panic attacks in high school and not knowing what they were. That’s a fun place to start. 100% unlistenable garbage. Generic lyrics written by some generic writer spit out by somebody whose cult of personality far outweighs their musical contribution. Haunted - Death metal song title. Song makes me wish for death. Hey if this song was by Death Grips, I’d probably like it. Rub in that your fans have to work. Queen. Oh she’s asking How come? How come we have to work? Because you and your doofus boyfriend need to be billionaires. Everybody you associate with and their hoarded wealth are direct contributors. See, when one person has more money than they could possibly ever spend, there needs to be somebody to prop up that system. That’s probably why we need to work all day to stay alive. Somebody has to be at the back of the human centipede. Anyway. This is lyrically disgusting and the song itself is incredibly boring. Drunk in Love - Oh boy. A song about sex with the grossest man in the planet. Hey my big body has also been drunk outside of a jet ski rental, saying SURFBOARD repeatedly. I was politely asked to leave. I was very agreeable and got right on the bus. This story, like the story in the song, is not true. I hate Jay-Z. I hate Beyoncé. Blow - Yeah errrm it sure does!!! Got her. I’d like to thank professional wrestler, Tugboat/Shockmaster. Couldn’t have done it without your perseverance. I’d also like to thank the concept of divorce for when these two eventually invoke that sacred rite. This sounds like she’s in her bedroom, singing over funk preset B, oh and then funk preset C from her Casio keyboard. No Angel - JESUS. What are these vocals?? You can’t sing. Too many people have propped her up. This is no good. No angels left. I’m sure there’s a satanic poem in there somewhere but I can’t go two days in a row. I have to get some better material. So does Beyoncé. Partition - There was a part of the limo we weren’t allowed to go to. A hand kept coming through and it had a Super Bowl ring. TK Jewellers is a scam. This was another R & B song about sex. Crash this limo, would ya? Jealous - Why are you cooking, naked? That seems unsafe. Also, your love interest wouldn’t even appreciate that if he wasn’t there? This song is sickening. Not in a “girl this is sickening, I’m gagged” kind of way either. The absolute worst song so far, and just imagine the territory that takes in. Rocket - Man, I may be repressed, but is this really what people want to listen to? Why would you sing this and then release it?I am literally a Canadian man sitting in front of an excel document while she sings about her sexual exploits. What was the intended audience for this? Say this in private. Whatever. This is the worst song so far. Mine - Oh boy! Drake is going to be here!! I can’t wait to suffer through TWO massively overrated singers for the price of one. Actually, price of two. I pay both prices like the dead pay the ferryman. He’s so cringeworthy. Holy shit. Growing up in Canada, you know kids like this. Wannabe rappers are around every corner. This guy somehow fleeced the planet. This is an overproduced staccato monstrosity, and guess what? The worst song so far. XO - Think of this song title as a millennial emoji. That way, he looks like he’s vomiting. Holy shit. This plays on the elevator to hell. THE CLAPS. What are we doing here? This is a failed submission for a World Cup song. This song was found graveyard of musical expression, dead, next to a group of half exhumed corpses. 4th straight worst song so far. Flawless - hey, the feminist speech is the best part of this whole album. Says a lot of unsaid things. Unfortunately it has to be interrupted by a woman who spent the previous 9 tracks destroying my ears and brain. If this is her rapping, I can see why she sings. Superpower - Drop Frank in the ocean, bin laden style. I kid the man, but I can’t take anymore of this. I’m breaking over here. Starting to have fractures in my vision. Heaven - Spirals cut through the sky. Streams of molten blood flash behind forms clad in white. Blissful sky scarred with unknown aberrations. Sickening thuds. Angels fall, crumpled in their human forms. Earth beckons their mangled vessels back beneath. Black smoke rises as the bell peals. Populace frozen in panic. The ritual has begun, and so goes the world. I said I wouldn’t do it, but when an album outs you in a headspace, you have to ride the wave. I’ll do a fun one. Blue - Once upon a smiling dew-soaked toadstool, there lived a family of gluttonous hogs. These hogs ate all that they could see. One day, they decided to invent the concept of parties. They shifted the kaleidoscope, and trumpeted the bugle they had invented the week before to call all the animals of the forest of gluttony. Even the lowly gerbils were at the hog shindig. When the police finally stopped the party, the hogs had discovered truths of their own; alcohol poisoning. So goes the fable of the gluttonous hogs. Remember kids; drink responsibly. What can I say? What do you want me to say? I hate this. I hated this worse than I expected to. Call me corny, call me repressed, but this just doesn’t fit my tastes whatsoever. The lyrics range from erotica, to ham-fisted romance that sounds like a forced instagram Valentine’s Day post with your partner over your shoulder. The music is where this really goes to die. Each song is barren, washed out club music that sounds like a Pepsi commercial mixed with that millennial “edge” that has coffee shops use “fuck” in their Facebook ads. The singing is brutal too. Overblown with an unpleasant tone throughout. She’s so completely unlikable. I cannot fathom why she is popular, or seen as so “iconic.” Everything about this makes me feel like an extra terrestrial. Enjoy your death trap, earthlings. Take me to Glognard-7. The noxious celestial swamp gases are a bummer, but at least the music is better. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: I ❤️ MUSIC 🎶

Man this is an unappealing album cover. Something about it. Could be the fact that it is primarily focused on what appears to be some sort of medical face distress. Who knows? I can’t get inside the head of the New York girl herself, ol PJ Harvey. After hearing the suburbs to city stinker from 2000, I’m hoping digging backwards in her discography will produce more genuine results. If not, I have a tough hour in front of me. TAXI. Hey can I use the aux cord? Oh My Lover - Very grunge-y. I don’t mind this at all. Sounds like this would play before an indie wrestling show in 2000. Ahead of her time in the wrestling world (which means about 10 years behind the real world). O Stella - A lot of lamenting here. Oh My Lover, O Stella (we’re going 1600’s with this spelling) Pretty hard riff. You won’t hear lamentations from this hack. Dress - This sounds a little too much like a made for radio track. I still like her voice and a few of the instrumental choices here, but probably the worst of the three. Just needs some more grit. Damn near found it at the close! Victory - As I go through this I’m doing some more research. This is her debut. This is a fun rock song, with some lyrics that piqued my interest once or twice. Just meat and potatoes rock with a unique voice. Highly enjoyable. Happy and Bleeding - Well! That certainly is a crazy combination!! Who could be bleeding AND happy?? She certainly is a zany cat. This one was a little more off the wall, but ultimately didn’t do much for me. Sheena-na-gig - I don’t know what this means. The lyrics are not really providing any insight. Outside of that, this song is pretty cool. Punk chord changes in the “idle hole” part. Damn. That rectangular guy from instagram has some competition. Hair - The quiet to loud nature of this song brings to mind that horrible era in like 2008 when every band was called “Army of Chipmunks Climbing Mountains” and people were getting moustache tattoos on their fingers. I deserve a medal for surviving. Joe - I like the noise of this song. Joe must have been the true wild card of the Harvey-Verse. The real Harvey Heads oughta know. No Alanis Morrisette comparison intended. Plants and Rags - Are we sure this wasn’t on Nirvana’s Nevermind? Very of the time, although, this time, it’s oh so English. Cool alternative grunge song with violins that aren’t obnoxious. Very cool. Fountain - Anither decent track. Well. We have the fountain. Where is the water? Water - Wow. PJ is bringing the song title game to a new level. PJ giveth and giveth once more with the big structure, and then the vital piece of said structure is right behind!! What a day. Refreshing. I am refreshed. It’s nice to be ushered back into the realm of enjoyable music. This didn’t blow my mind, but at least it didn’t spur me into thinking about blowing a hole in my mind. A lot of things pretty basic grunge/rock with a capable and enjoyable vocalist. I enjoyed this far more than her “Stories…” album from the turn of the millennium and a lot of that is down to more relatable lyrical content, as well as a palpable energy that comes with a debut release. I’m sure we’re not done our trek through the catalogue of ol PJ Harvey, and whilst that may have induced a migraine before, but after “Dry,” my purpose has been renewed. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: O Stella, Victory, Sheena-na-gig, Joe, Plants and Rags

Again?? Don’t look at me like that, Muddy. I will not assist you with this. Oh that Muddy. What a scamp! Oh, hello! I didn’t see you there, you’ve caught me at an inopportune time as a long deceased blues man appeared to have been propositioning me for some sort of romantic rendezvous. Before I ensnare Mr. Waters in some sort of Me Too-esque snafu, let’s figure out what he has to say on this album. Hopefully we can distract him somehow. Mannish Boy - Oh HELL yeah. I need the screaming background man in my general life. Every time I shut down some dumb email, I need some blues hype man screaming YEAH. As stated in my previous email “WOOOO.” This thing was thrilling right off the bat, but I dint know if I needed this exact riff for 5 minutes, but still a classic. Bus Driver - The most honourable job of them all. I look forward to 7 minutes of hearing about this. WHAT? He stole his woman. Oh god. Betrayal of the highest order by the man who is supposed to whisk you to within a 45 minute walk of your destination, late and with a disenfranchised grimace behind his protective plexiglass. Who would’ve thunk it?? This is a long song. Not bad, but probably not 7 minutes worth of stuff here. Although finding out a guy named “Pine Top” Perkins is tickling the ivories makes this whole thing worth it. I Want to Be Loved - Woman mentioned!!! YEEEAAHHHH. I celebrate because people usually just used to say “little baby tiny infantile girl” in this era. Got to rejoice when age appropriate love is mentioned. Fun song. Jealous Hearted Man - The passion continues to fly off the uhh page? Into my ears. Whatever dude. My nonexistent writing career died with this endeavour. Might as well keep digging the linguistic grave. Here lies my verbal ability. But yeah, the energy in these tracks is insane: how is this a late career album? I Can’t Be Satisfied - I Can’t Never Be Satihi. He really shortened that puppy up. This is a quieter song, in the style of Holes the movie from like 2003 The Blues Had a Baby and They Named it Rock and Roll - Blues and Rockabilly were in the closet making babies, and the baby looked at me and it said it was a Mannish boy, and then it spelled “Man” with an “ooh child.” Stupid babies need the most attention. Anyway. Decent track. I appreciate the lack of contraction on “Rock AND Roll.” Deep Down in Florida - Let me tell you something JACK, down in Clearwater beach in Tampa Florida, the Hulkster was down on the beach clanging the weights around and I looked to Brother Bruti and I said, HEY DUDE, IS THAT LARS ULRICH OF METALLICA? Lars asked me to join Metallica and also play Cliff Burton in the upcoming biopic, but I said, no way DUDE, I need to defend America from the Libs at SummerSlam. Whatcha gonna do when the largest arms in the world are attached to the biggest moron in Florida. Uh this song is good! Crosseyed Cat - Another good song. Blues doesn’t do all that much in the way of variety, does it. At least the energy stays UP. Ugh I don’t want that to be some sort of erection pun. I already did that bit. Whatever. Little Girl - And here it is. Small infant child ooooh you’re so young and juvenile. Why are we like this? Gross lyrically, and fittingly, probably the most boring song going. Although that guitar solo does go very hard. This is one of the toughest ratings to conjure up in a long time. On one hand, if I was in the room while this was being played live, it’d probably be 10 stars and I’d be passed out in a pool of tears and sweat. Might even be some blood in that pool. You know, to complete the idiom. On the other hand, these songs are not really “songs.” I can’t remember choruses for the most part and this don’t stick out to me as an album experience. That really doesn’t matter though. The music is enjoyable and the instruments sound so incredibly raw. This thing is powered by a thousand viagras, Pine Top Perkins, and the gravity of love. Let that muddy river roll right into the vaunted annals of positively reviewed albums. The walls in this temple are sparse, so plenty of room for that sick guitar tone to resonate. 3.5-4 HIGHLIGHTS: Mannish Boy, I Want to Be Loved, Can’t be Satisfied, Deep Down in Florida

Get your flute fingers ready. If they’re greasy, all the better to smear your clothes with. And well, I don’t have to to tell you it would be best if your clothes were shabby. It’s Aqualung. A song that I obviously know coming into this, but an album that is entirely unknown to me outside of that song. I know gluts of woodwinds are involved, and I’m sure drugs play a factor somewhere as this is rock of the progressive variety. We need “regressive” rock. I guess that’s probably like AC/DC tribute acts with conservative themes. Maybe we don’t need that. Anyway. All aboard the Locomotive (breath). It’s time to get weird. Aqualung - The opening riff is so simple, but it’s a great start. As mentioned in the intro, the opening lyrics are memorable, if not incredibly creepy. The song kind of goes everywhere and while the piano could’ve been omitted from most of it, this was a fun journey overall. Cross-Eyed Mary - I think we had a crosseyed character on the Muddy Waters album from Friday. The neurological ophthalmology community would have a field day with this list. Ear Doctors HATE these 1001 albums. I must pause in my stupid pseudo-review to say that this riff and vocal delivery is going HARD. Not to mention that rad as hell flute intro and interludes throughout. Cheap Day Return - Short, simple. Nothing to write home about. Hell, I’m barely going to write into the ether about it. Mother Goose - Tavern music. The cluck of chickens, the rattling of battle worn armor, the revelry of the villagers. Well. This feels like a pretty big departure in quality for me. Wond’ring Around - Balladry if a different sort. Less bard, more barf. Eh it’s not that bad, but this doesn’t have the fire of the opening tracks. Up to Me - Oh here we go. A perfect mix of the insane rock flute, solid electric riffing and a solid nod to medieval tavern-core, if the mead was spiked with some uppers. My God - Jethro Tull goes to hell. I think this performer might get thrown out of the tavern. Perhaps immolated at the stake for this blasphemous song. This is the best thing going so far. The fact that you can hear the flutist freaking out really adds to it for me. Genuine passion on display, and this is one of the best songs I’ve heard on or off this list in quite some time. Hymn 43 - I don’t think this guy is a big fan of organized religion. Incredibly based. Much preferred the British proto-metal trudge through hell that the previous track provided though. This was more American in sound. Slipstream - A transitional interlude. What the hell am I supposed to say? Huh? You’re all so demanding. Listen to me pretending somebody reads this. I could write a detailed confession to the zodiac murders in this thing and that case would remain unsolved. Locomotive Breath - Such a cool name. Metallica ripped it off and went with “Motor Breath,” which just doesn’t have the same appeal as a train. Make the autism diagnoses you will, but I’m right. Just picture that big ol coal locomotive choking the air with smoke as it conquers a mountain range. So cool. More flute freakouts, and I will never complain about that. Wind-Up - The last song. Well, unless I want to listen to an interview from the deluxe edition or whatever. That would be a fun review.nngwegngwnwg. Oh god I fell asleep on my keyboard after listening to it. Hope that interview appears in my Wrapped at the end of the year and plays over my increasingly broken music taste. Nothing like a Jethro Tull interview to let the instagram followers know I’m a musical savant. From trenchcoat-clad hobos, to takedowns of organized religion, Jethro Tull ran the gamut of lyrical themes in Aqualung. Well. Ugh. I guess they didn’t ok? They didn’t write about Polar Bear poker tournaments or Appalachian movie theatre liquorice, but you know what I mean. Can I get back to this? This album was schizophrenic in that it jumped between genres and sounds like an international homeless triple jump competition. From conceptual medieval ballads to disgusting, metal adjacent hard rock, this thing kept me guessing, and with intrigue being one of the main scoring factors on my scale, this vaults itself into the very very good tier. Might have to add another Ian Anderson interview to detail his elation when the news of this positive review reaches his estate. 4 HIGHLIGHTS - Aqualung, Cross-Eyed Mary, Up to Me, My God

Holy hell. One I have listened to and one where there are some songs I return to in a regular basis. “Angular” is listed as one of the moods present on “Double Nickels on the Dime,” and while that kind of makes sense, all I can think of is that guy who made that lousy sound about being rectangular. Brain death achieved. And at such a young age. The (117) Minutemen accompany this day of all days with a suspect track listing that can’t be fully matched to RYM. That doesn’t bother me all all *wink*. Anxious Mo-Fo - Serious as a heart attack. Slow start but only in terms of what I know is to come. Easing us in. Theatre is the Life of You - Umm ok? The bass rules. Such great musicianship here already. Viet Nam - The best. So funky, and whilst I could say “So Punky,” I’m not that insufferable. French Indo-China passes through my head once a day minimums Cohesion - What is happening? Genre whiplash. Still cool. It’s Expected I’m Gone - Cool. Smart, Punk, Funk. Excellent. #1 Hit Song - Man I used to love this joke, but how many bands have done it? Used to think it was Anal Cunt’s joke exclusively. It probably works best with them, but anyway. This was alright. Two Beads at the End - This is a fun song. Sounds like it could be in the seminal skateboarding classic “Disney Skate Adventure.” I don’t even mean that as an insult. Simpler times. Do You Want New Wave or Do You Want the Truth - THE TRUTH THE TRUTH. This album continues to be cool as all hell. Don’t Look Now - This bar recording of an amateur white guy blues performance is a lowlight, but in the ideological context of this album, it kind of fits. Shit from an Old Notebook - You know, you didn’t have to include EVERYTHING, but how was this sitting in a notebook. Psychological methods to sell SHOULD be destroyed. Ahead of their time. Nature Without Man - Yeah it probably would better off. Does nature exist despite man? Does it exist for man? Do we take advantage of its kindly nature? Does nature have a nature? Good song. One Reporters Opinion - In THIS reporters opinion, the weight reduction clinic should’ve anticipated this outcome upon formation of the archery team. More at 11. Maybe Partying Will Help - Balloons and Streamers and a fun hat? Yes. The other things that people categorize under the word “Partying” in order to infantilized their horrible life choices? That’ll probably exacerbate any issues, unless you have a problem with being sober/interesting. Toadies - They certainly put the E in explicit. You know. The “E” that shows up beside the song title in Spotify? Whatever man. This album is both rapid and good, so I have nothing to say. Retreat - I’ve never heard such an impassioned delivery of the lyric “The toilet” The Big Foist - Foisting off another rapid song. God Bows to Math - Do they? I refuse to gender your god. I haven’t heard their pronouns yet. Corona - Here comes Wee-Man. He has killed Johnny Knoxville and the clip of his beheading will play on television to stoned teenagers in 2004. After this break Steve-O will be drawn and quartered, brought to you by Trojan Condoms. For obvious reasons. The Glory of Man - So similar to Devo. This has a very 80’s sound. Fun, albeit a touch repetitive. Take 5, D - Considering the guy died, this takes a kind of sad tone. I mean it’s also written that way. I like this one. Sad, odd, subversive somehow. My Heart and the Real World - They can go from sounding right out of the 80’s to obvious influences on future bands like The Pixies. Excellent stuff. History Lesson Part II - Oh no. Not LA geography. You did what to corn dogs?? Gross. I’ll spare you the recap but use your imagination. It sounds like I’m hating this, but my word is this ever cool. You Need the Glory - So bizarre. African (?) rhythms mixed in esoteric string instruments underneath vocal scatting. I’m in love and I don’t know why. The Roar of the Masses Could be Farts - Another good song. Juvenile titles aside. You know me. A real enjoyed of highbrow art forms. West Germany - Do the kids today know that Germany was divided not too long ago. Well. Almost 40 years. Yikes. Pretty electrifying riff. The Politics of Time - Compicated and catchy. This song - and album for that matter - does an excellent job of being highly technical, yet super accessible. Themselves - Hey! This one is not for me. Kind of dull. Rare. Please Don’t Be Gentle With Me - My classic review on long albums. You ready? I hate writing it, I hate thinking it. This one… floated by. Ugh. Nothing Indeed - Ooh, this one sounds foreboding. Oh. Then it doesn’t. Oh it’s back. This review has been provided by a baby without the concept of object permanence. Don’t know how he got in here. Little scamp. No Exchange - The worst song on the album so far. There Ain’t Shit on TV Tonight - You live in the 80’s my guy. Wait a decade. Dems da glory years. For now, I get it. It’s melancholic Funk-Punk. This Ain’t No Picnic - This would start a nerd moshpit anywhere there are virgins. Thankfully, picnics are a no-go for the nations’ most socially inept. Intimate setting mixed with seasonal allergies. Avoid like the plague. Spillage - Decent song? I hate these low detail reviews, but what can I say. It’s fun to listen to and in much the same vein as the previous 29 songs. Untitled Song for Latin America - I don’t know how much this had to do with Latin America, but we continue to ride down the tracks of the same vein. Jesus and Tequila - Was this the title they came up with for the previous song? Damn. One track too late. This song is almost Primus to me. Primordial Primus. How about that??? Ehh. June 16th - At this point. Just do a song for every day. We have to be nearing 365. Storm in My House - I prefer the shouted punk strains over the warbling singing. Martin’s Story - Barely registered this one. Dr. Wu - What the hell is happening with these guys? We get a nice little power pop/country song with spoken word vocals in the midst of this madness The World According to Nouns - yeah uh more like the word world withb uhh PROnouns and woke and I’m desperately sad and alone and I remember South Park and when I was allowed to yell about minorities. Wow. One of my worst characters yet. Love Dance - This is my Love Dance and this is my Hate dance. Take the guitar out if the romance and put it into the riff of my dreams and who knows what will happen. I expect that’s a reference you get. Three Car Jam - That really was a jam. Clever fellas. My fingers are weary. My thumbs I guess. You know what really pissed me off growing up? When people would say “errrm your thumbs are NOT fingers.” Why do you people gotta segregate everything? Can a finger not look different? Ok so none of them are fingers. One is just middle, one is index. I hate everybody. See, as tired as I am, I had to finally get that off my chest. Also, I pretend that I have to stick to this format. I really don’t. I’m just rigid and obsessive. This album is too long. It’s really 4 EPs, meaning it’s probably a double album. Doesn’t mean that this thing isn’t sharp, snappy fun from start to finish. I’m not going to throw this in every day, but you can’t deny the punk-tinged brilliance that Double Nickels on the Dime churns out relentlessly for over an hour. The Wild Man of Viet Nam has been found. Turns out he’s been in San Pedro this whole time. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Viet Nam, It’s Expected I’m Gone, Two Beads at the End, Shit From an Old Notebook, My Heart and the Real World, Jesus and Tequila, Dr. Wu

A de-aged cover of a failing relationship. This kid is pre-auditioning to be a male lead in an indie film. Chewing the scenery, and at such a young age. Just think. This kid is minimum 40 now. Time does indeed pass. Cutting edge reporting from your intrepid reviewer. Unless this is about the poorly received Whig party mission to Kabul, I don’t know what this is and have never heard of it. Spin me a yarn. I wish to not think about work for 48 minutes. If I Were Going - I don’t know what to think about this. Just an intro, so it could go either way. There are flashes of technical oddity, and more worryingly, flashes of sappy, melancholic grunge-lite. Where will we go from here? Gentlemen - Ladies and Gentlemen by Saliva. Strange that we haven’t seen any Saliva yet?? Do you think they’re just being coy with the WWE PPV theme songs? Probably. I’ll be patient and I’ll tell my therapist that I still believe. I don’t hate this, but I’m not choosing it. Be Sweet - What? I really have to hand it to straight women and gay men for that matter. Male humans are the most disgusting and pathetic sexual creatures on the planet. To put up with any of this deserves only the highest of praise. Listen up, singer guy. If you have a problem with commitment, maybe write some sort of metaphor. Don’t use your sensitive voice to say “I just want to fuck.” I’m going to be sick. Debonair - Great word AND it reminds me of donair, which has me pining for that sweet mystery meat delicacy of my ancestral homeland. Well. At least a few hundred years back. Colonialism and all that. With that, I listen to another mid mid-90’s alt rock song. The Pixies this ain’t. When We Two Parted - How dare you try to get poetic now? Two songs ago you were saying you had a “dick for a brain,” and now you’re giving me a whispery alt country ballad with a Shakespearean song title? In theory, I shouldn’t hate this, but in execution, I certainly don't like it. The singer is so unlikeable. This sounds like a drunken voicemail you’d get from a heartbroken Bryan Adams. Fountain and Fairfax - What happens on this street corner? Bruce Springsteen impersonation contest? Oh no, he’s waiting for his “angel.” What Jail is Like - Overly bombastic, piano led radio rock that would actually get radio play if not for the world’s stinkiest singer. All around awful. Like a poorly executed execution, I am twitching and begging for the end of this. My Curse - I can’t wait to hear about what the singer’s curse is. NEW SINGER?? Oh my god. It’s so much better. It’s still a boring song, but I’m feeling less gross, and that is a refreshing sensation. Like a shower and warm bed after accidentally walking by the gathering of the juggalos. Now You Know - We’re so back. I think when you create art in groups, there can be magical collaborations that produce ideas that would’ve been impossible without said collaboration. I also think that in some cases, there has to be compromise. You may be the guitar player for this band and wince as that singer does that dumb vocal divebomb, or the pianists insistence on playing these old-timey casino runs over this boring song. I feel for anybody who was forced to attach their name to this. I Keep Coming Back - listen. I am no writer. I’ve tried, and I continue to fail. At least I have the respect for the art form to know I’m a hack. How can you write these words and show up to a studio (which costs money) and presumably request multiple takes to perform this basic ass high school blues trash? How can you recover from this without a public apology? Brother Woodrow/Closing Prayer - Wow. What a meaningful closer. Absolutely virtuosic piano playing over incredibly lush soundscapes which were absolutely not grating at all. I love high pitched pangs repeated every 4 bars for 6 minutes. I can’t believe this is the last song. I’m in music listener heaven. It’s been awhile since I was so heavily confronted with the fact that a bad singer can ruin any musical output. I found myself not hating much of this at the outset, but I grew so angry with the vocalist that I now despise this album. It’s not as if this thing was a five star classic without the singer anyway, but hearing his juvenile caterwauling reminded me of reading incel-coded instagram content or listening to the grown-up high school bully talk about his “baby mama” who he is currently cheating on. This album was listenable in small doses, but quickly wore out its welcome like a down on his luck friend who was supposed to be back on his feet in a couple of weeks, and now there is a him-shaped dent in your living room sofa and he scares your children. Remind me to cancel my pilgrimage to the mountain ranges of Afghanistan. I think there’s still time to get a refund. 1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: My Curse

Another live album that is LONG. I’ll get it out of the way here by saying live music is phenomenal. Nothing can compare to being in a room while talented and passionate musicians are performing music to an enthusiastic and equally passionate crowd. With that in mind, I’ve always had a problem with live recordings. Studios lend themselves to picking up sound. Even with excellent audio equipment, the live show sounds worse. As far as performances, those vary from project to project. Who knows what we’ll get here, but seeing a live album pop up is always a groan-inducer. It ain’t over til the fat lady sings, so I’m very concerned about the thin-ness of this “Lizzy” character. Jailbreak - That guitar tone is fantastic. This sounds great. I’m immediately proven wrong. See, I don’t actively want to hate everything. There really just is that much to hate in the world of music. I will say though, that the singer is a little subdued for me. Sounds to be going through the motions. Also, I really only picked up the lyrics during the chorus, but it’s ALWAYS bothered me that a jailbreak could happen “somewhere in the town.” Are there several jails? I guess there could be. Jails aren’t prisons. Ugh. Break me out of here. Emerald - Oh, lovely. Frat boys on St. Patrick’s Days were given a line for life from that intro. “Any ladies that would like a bit more Irish in them.” And thus sounded a wave of exaltation from rohypnol buyers across generations. Lucky this song is pretty rad to make up for that. Lord of the Rings meets hard rock/heavy metal. Which is honestly not a groundbreaking combo, (even for 1978) but still cool. Southbound - Oh no. Whattaya say lads we have ta get one of these on the radio no? Incredibly boring riff and vocal chorus. A harbinger of the early 80’s. This one is uhh how you say, “shit.” Rosalie (Cowgirl’s Song) - Genuine question, but were there “Cowgirls”? I of course can google this rather than asking a performative rhetorical question to an empty webpage, but I thought it was just the old ranch hands that followed comes from place to place. Was that a female job back when there were actual cowboys? This is your frequent reminder that people who unironically dress in cowboy attire look incredibly stupid. Anyway. With my manifesto on cowboy clothes still in the works, I leave you with exactly the review I would expect of a Bob Seger deep track cover with a singer on quaaludes. Not for me. Dancing in the Moonlight (It’s Caught Me In It’s Spotlight)- Oh no the crowd is clapping along and it’s a song about dancing in moonlight AND summer nights? Oh brother. There’s that other horrible song about lunar jigs that appears in movies frequently, and at least this one is better than that. Lyrically lame, let’s take this one behind the proverbial barn and finish the job. Massacre - Whoa. Metal adjacent. Damn near there until the singer comes in. I even like the campy echoing on this one. Good stuff. Still in Love With You - I’ve always been embarrassed by this, since it seems to be the pinnacle of masculine music enjoyment, but I don’t give a shit about 95% of guitar solos. Now. There are some that bring tears to my eyes, but they have to come together in a creative, unique and passionate vein. This is just the same low energy blues solo perpetrated over 7 minutes. It’s fine, but it just doesn’t really matter to me. Sorry dude bros. Carry on with my me. Johnny the Fox meets Jimmy the Weed - Interesting. Who has managed to broker this legendary sit down? Jimmy the Weed hasn’t been seen since they whacked his boy Sammy the Sprout. A lot of people said it was the fox, but the fox has those teeth. Is he eating grass? It’s still a point of contention to this day. This has to be the work of Marvin the Mole. Only he could bring the crazy DJs and Low Riders together for a true summit in the back of this Cadillac. Cowboy Song - You are not a cowboy. You are an Irish man born in the 1940’s singing in Philadelphia? Why don’t people make more songs like “I am a count with an insatiable lust for blood.” Why don’t people at Costco wear cloaks and prosthetic fangs? Or, better yet, pirate hats. Why don’t we all walk around saying “YARRR” instead of “ya’ll.” When will people understand that a cowboy is a costume, ideally reserved for children under 3. Most kids over 3 have moved onto dinosaurs or something else cool. Lame song to boot. The Boys Are Back in Town - The big hit. I think there are some boys who just back to Philly in that audience. The soundtrack to every man getting back into any sort of town/village. Hell, I’ll enter a hamlet and remark that the boy(s) are indeed, back in town. As silly as it is, the song is undeniable. Good performance of it as well. Don’t Believe a Word - Solid riff. Iron Maiden lite. Vocals aren’t my favourite again, but whatever. Warrior - Man this is a really long album hey? At least the residents of Philadelphia got their 10 bucks worth. Inflation is awesome and definitely *wink* NOT a result *wink wink* of corporate greed *wink* NOR is it a result *wink wink* of the blatant excusing of said greed as a natural force beyond human control *wink*. Good song. Are You Ready - If it wasn’t for the singer and lyrics, this would be close to Judas Priest at times. That is high, high praise. Needs Rob Halford, but they’re really bringing the energy near the end here. Suicide - Haven’t heard so many people rejoice at the concept of suicide outside of a black metal concert or maybe gen z online spaces. The children yearn for all that is grim and frostbitten. This was fine. Sha-La-La - Too many La’s, not enough Sha’s. The line “Take my Jelly Roll” made me spontaneously vomit all over my computer and keyboard and now I’ve been fired and I’m in the hospital for vomit based observation and I’ve been rehired and they cleaned my station and it’s all fine, but I don’t like that line. What a journey. Especially considering I had to sit through more wanking of a different sort for 3 more minutes. Don’t you know my brain has been conditioned for 30 seconds or less? BLIND JOHNNY ON DRUMS. Baby Drives Me Crazy - Cries a lot. Smells bad. Everybody!! My baby stinks and also cries. Oh we’re talking about an adult woman. I guess the same could apply. Well. Now you’ve stolen my thunder. This is a stinker all on its own. Sugar baby sweet *harmonica* sounds like something I’d write to make fun of an album. That is word for word what they are actually doing here. Big time Fuck You to “Huey Lewis” on Harmonica. How are two people on lead guitar? Progressive group these lads. The Rocker - Wasn’t this that shitty movie with Rainn Wilson from the turn of the 2010s? It’s a decent song with more lame lyrics about motorcycles, rock n’ roll, and “juke joints.” Let’s get the negative out of the way. Too many guitar solos that were just ok? Check. Next up are the lyrics. This was almost 50 years ago, so I get it. Things become old fashioned. Hell, stuff I liked has gone out of style in like 10-15 years. These were presumably young guys, heavily influenced by American culture in the 50’s, and I just don’t care about that. It’s what every crusty old conservative who is restoring a Chevy Nova likes. It’s boring and it reminds me of the finiteness of life. This album was also too long but that’s a minor dig. Where this thing surprised me was the energy. There is a palpable lust for playing from the band, the singer is goofy but seems to be having fun, especially after a slow start. There are some sweet riffs and songs on this thing too. I can imagine the concert itself would’ve been far more fun than this but that’s not really a controversial statement. Considering Philadelphia has booed Santa Claus and beat a pacifist hitchhiking robot to death, I’d say that from the cheers, they liked it a lot, and for a live album and I think Thin Lizzy and myself dodged a couple bullets. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Emerald, Massacre, The Boys Are Back in Town, Warrior

This is a big one. Almost 200 albums into this and this is the first Pink Floyd slab of music I’ve really exposed myself to. Obviously I’ve heard many a Floyd song (look at me shortening band names), but I’ve never dove into a full length project of theirs. This is the one that I am not fully sure if it will hold up, or if it’s the album cover that dragged them this far. Hell, I had dark side of the moon pyjama pants when I was like 10. I had never heard this thing. I just thought prisms and light refraction was cool. With that tragic admission, let’s take a tab and try to forget I said that. Down the rabbit hole. Speak to Me - Perfectly dramatic intro. Like a portal to a mystical realm. Overhearing the last voices you’ll ever hear. Breathe (In the Air) - Errm what else am I supposed to breathe? Oh. Probably some sort of burned narcotic. You rascals. Excellent melody. I like this song a lot. On the Run - this sounds like the afterlife if it was made for a Sega console. Not a song per se, but the infinite black is palpable here. Time - I wonder if this song will be about Clocks. OH AHHH OH GOD AHHHH. I was almost asleep. I should’ve never chose to invoke squatters rights in this cavernous grandfather clock factory. They’re just so well made. It’s been years!! Is this another great song, or are my ears still ringing? The cacophonous blast of time measurement tools, to the cosmic soup, right into a laid back and meaningful rock performance that still maintains the darkened atmosphere. This is incredibly lush and that “ever year is getting shorter” refrain is so incredibly beautiful. The Great Gig in the Sky - The melodies are so haunting. I wouldn’t think that this bombast would fit in the cavernous realm that has been constructed thus far, but they do. This track has taken me out of it ever so slightly, but it holds up as an individual track and keeps the flow going. Especially as it fades. The angelic roadies need to pull up all that fuckin wire. We may be in the sky, but you still gotta plug those amps in. Money - The song that was the most accessible to young me, and one I can remember loading onto my iPod nano to impress my Dad, and to enjoy the rock n roll tones. Nostalgia colours this emergence, but it’s still an excellent rock song. A lot of energy, and a criticism of the money hoarding that has only gotten worse with time. Us and Them - Who is the Us and who is the Them? Sure I’m part of the us if I’m saying it, but I didn’t say it, they said it. But to them, they are us, and perhaps to them, I am them. This is a real head scratcher. I don’t know how to review this song. I like the saxophone. It feels very ethereal. Like you crest the horizon and feel the infinity of space stretch out before you. Hovering weightless. Any Colour You Like - Fuschia. No wait uhhh. PURPLE. yes!! When does my colour show up? I suppose we were due an extended guitar solo song. Brain Damage - Who are you calling damaged? I’ll have you know my doctor said I’ll make a full recovery from that time I accidentally got shipped airmail to Azerbaijan. Don’t ask. What a summer. I will say those crates are NOT handled with care. The inside of that thing looked like an explosion at a Smucker’s factory by the time I landed in Baku. Eclipse - The songs transition so seamlessly, that I can barely finish my inane ramblings before I am once again confronted. Wow. I made the mistake of looking at a lot of the online discourse surrounding this album beforehand and it made me feel ill. This album is so talked about, and so famous, that the discussion seems to be regarding anything but music. I’m very guilty of that in every review (including this one) but I do tend to listen to these albums for me. What do I think of them? How do the songs occur to me as that first listen? Then you get a raw (see half-baked) thought, and I move on. I will say that the eternal shared quest of 20-something white males to be the smartest guy in the room has ruined conversation around this album because it’s excellent, and I think the new “intellectual” take is that it’s overrated. This thing was enthralling at the start. The sounds are so lush and the atmosphere is all encompassing. I found myself visualizing space frequently and just tuning into each bizarre line of dialogue or beautiful melody. I was more distracted near the album close, as it felt the atmosphere was lifting. Almost as though we were ending our journey by crashing into the sun. Dark Side of the Moon takes somewhat mainstream rock and looks at it through this cosmic progressive lens that leaves us with something truly unique. Don your technicolour solar radiation blockers and breathe in the rarified air. We’re on the Dark Side of the Moon. Which moon? Brother, I don’t even know what galaxy we’re in. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Breathe (In The Air), On the Run, Time, Money, Us and Them

Steven Wonderful, or as he’s known to you, just regular old Stevie Wonder. Sad. It is I who so deeply abhors informality. You? Well. Let’s just say if you could call him “Steve Wond,” you would. I don’t know what I’m saying here. Listen. I thought the last Stevie Wonder album was far too sweet and whilst the funk instrumentals delivered some edge, the vocals were like being waterboarded with maple syrup. I like the abstract art in the cover, but I don’t hold out hope that the inside matches the cover. Proceed wonderfully. Too High - What a start. Bizarre, off-kilter funk. It really is the vocals that I just can’t stand. Man, those are rough and my word are they LOUD. You know what? I think he may have been too high for this. That vocal refrain was poison. No matter how nice the rest of the meal was, the arsenic kind of ruined it. Visions - Will anybody find me out here, somewhere? Sung in the style of a scorned Disney Hero at the bottom of his character arc. This SUCKS. What are we doing? Living for the City - Ok, after that inexplicable addition to the track list we at least have sings of life. Stevie is alive. I like when he leaves that dumb sweet voice behind and does a little screeching. Not a horrible song. Congratulations. Whoa, psychedelic Stevie Wonder crime interludes. Then he comes back sounding like Grover and I rescind any positive comments made about the song. Golden Lady - A flock of butterflies has appeared in my office. Oh? What’s this? They have lovingly placed a sleeping cap on my weary head. They have wrapped me in a sleeping robe and are lifting me towards a bed. Yeah they had to call in the backup bluebirds, but here I am, nestled gently in my bed. Goodnight birds. Goodnight butterflies. “Sweet dreams” they call in unison as I fall into a deep and restful slumber. Oh fuck was there an album going on? SHIT. Uh. Yeah this song was uhh exhilarating and err a paragon of ummm genre based excellence. Higher Ground - The original? Where did this even come from? The rest of this album has been so, so bad and even more long-winded. This is just a fun song. An aberration, or a sign of things to come? Only Stevie can tell. Jesus Children of America - Is this a modern Republican campaign speech? Just quote it word for word. Including the long vocal runs. The religion involved stinks big time, but this isn’t a bad track. Are we really on an upswing? All in Love is Fair - The butterflies are back, but they were chased off with those bee smokers and several of them died. Now I’m sleepy AND sad. This place is a prison. Oh god and I actually have to listen to this song?? No, Stevie, no. Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing - Everybody’s got a thing. Some people like committing to torturing themselves with hundreds of bad albums for a period of more than three years. Some people like writing the bad albums to torture the world. Me and Stevie are birds of a feather. Well. He is a falcon, and I am an injured pigeon with no concept of my proximity to the falcon sanctuary. Allow to peck at my final cigarette butt in peace. He’s Misstra Know-It-All - That is apparently the name of the song. I am famous for my typos and nonsensical garbage writing. Famous to the tune of like 6 “likes” on this page. Read it and weep, scrubs. However, this is the actual song title. I checked. I didn’t fuck it up. He even says it. Score 2 for me. What about John Waters and a soufflé? This sucks. God, he is just so boring. Why we, as a society, choose certain artists to latch onto, I’ll never know. I can’t even go into some tirade about that right now. This album felt like it had three ideas and two of them were executed poorly. Each bad song was stretched out interminably and each of the two decent songs were also taken too far. The Sesame Street shouting hits extra hard as the real-life supervillains known as the American government recently shut PBS down. I would genuinely rather listen to Snuffleupagus power out a couple of funk ballads over whatever was on offer here. I’m sure Stevie will be back to terrorize me sweetly once again, but as far as “Innervisions?” It had the impact of a gentle breeze downwind from a sewer plant. I remain unmoved, but kinda nauseated. As the kids once said, “this ain’t it, chief.” 1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Higher Ground, Jesus Children of America

Don’t mind if I do!! I’m freaking out that at the tender age of 29, I finally understand the Deep Purple lyric “Frank Zappa and the Mothers.” I was always perplexed by the inclusion of said mothers. Who were they? Why were they with Frank? Now, before I lose any more of my previously untarnished credibility, I discovered this a few months ago. Despite my late arrival to the party, I hope to sift through the smouldering wreckage of the French nightclub and find what it was that set it ablaze. It’ll be odd to hear Frank Zappa doing music, and not just taking down news anchors in whatever heavily tailored short form content loops I’ve been on. Hungry Freaks, Daddy - Oh no. I don’t like that song title. It sounds like how people speak on the internet now. I do love a good freak mention though. Mr. America? Is this a Hulk Hogan song? I wouldn’t be surprised if this song could somehow predict the future. This is wild. Very cool instrumentation choices, an a super likeable track. I Ain’t Got No Heart - That guitar lick in the background. This is not what I expected. I was kind of just thinking this album would be fart noises in an attempt to be subversive, but here we are getting coherent psychedelic pop. Sounding excellent. Who are the Brain Police? - We’ve had hearts and now brains. I’m seeing a shoulder up ahead as well. I’m concerned about the lack of autonomy we have over the body parts here. I wish I could answer this query. Go Cry on Somebody Else’s Shoulder - Man. This is fantastic. A throwback with a tongue firmly planted in the cheek. The ironic thing? This is actually a pretty good song, even if you listen to it unironically. Yeah the background vocals are a little silly, but I love the atmosphere they create. Completely insane. I’m in love. Motherly Love - Aside from the “turkey in the straw” kazoo solo, this one was mkre standard for the time. Not hating it, but not as exhilarating as the previous tracks. How Could I Be Such a Fool - So many rhetorical questions on this album. Well, maybe not rhetorical. Unanswerable? Whatever. It’s also my review writing style. To ask questions that will never receive responses. Wowie Zowie - Progressive feminist slay mixed in with a nod to a childlike regression precipitated by a trip on bad acid. More 50’s nonsense. Get the straitjackets. You Didn’t Try to Call Me - More of the same sentiment from the band and a reduced sentiment of praise from me. Overall, fine, but kind of a filler track. Anyway the Wind Blows - Am I finally picking up on the theme here? Back and forth between teeny-bopper breakup songs and starry-eyed odes to love. This song has a lovely chorus. I’m Not Satisfied - YUUEAHHH. HELL yeah dude. Oh no, Frank, don’t kill ur slef. ur gud at song. YUUEAHHH. That’s my new favourite sound. I’m telling ya. This shit is in my Q zone big time. You’re Probably Wondering Why I’m Here - I was wondering, yes. Why are you in my office with this bizarre song? Oh. You also don’t know. Yeah that’s fine. Rip a kazoo solo. Pull up a chair. THE YUUEAHHs ARE BACK!! Score. Trouble Every Day - Uhh yeah this should be the title of this website. Another scorching zinger provided by yours truly. Wait a second I’m not yours. Nice try, idiot. Cool song. Why aren’t more albums cool like this? Help, I’m a Rock - Ok. I’ve seen this before. What you’re going to need to do is remain perfectly still, which should be relatively simple considering your predicament. I will fetch a green onion salve and consult with Garlac the wizard. He will ask of you a riddles three. Your answer to these riddles will be irrelevant as your communion eith Garlac becomes complete on the final syllable of the third riddle. He will transition you from rock to Parsnip which any hack Shaman can return to human form with a simple Beetwort juice. It Can’t Happen Here - Insane. True. Art. The Return of the Son of Monster Magnet - Put Susie Cream Cheese on the line. I have some questions about this song title. Yeah hello Ms. Cream Cheese. Sorry. Mrs. Cream Cheese. Yeah, Isn’t Monster Magnet some horrible modern butt rock band? Or am I thinking of that the guy who calls himself “Monster Truck?”The one who did that anti-mask song with Kid Rock. Anyway. I think this song is about him. HELP. I’m on a song with Kid Rock. Say hello to Mr. Cream Cheese for me. Stay out of the sun you rascals. After sitting here with my jaw agape for the full 13 minutes, I’ll call this one “The Jenius of the Jungle.” I’ve heard some Zappa lyrics that are just literally lines about shit. Just poop lyrics. Not a metaphor. Needless to say I thought this would suck. I love bizarre and avant-garde tinged art, but I find when people are stuck for “far out” ideas, they return to the bathroom. Now. This album did anything but circle the drain. The debut effort from the Mother of Invention is and completely insane in all the best ways and somehow politically relevant to this day. From art pop to jazz fusion to comedic parodies that ridicule overdone musical tropes whilst improving on them at the same time. I did not realize I needed this, or that something almost 60 years old could still sound out there in this over saturated age of oddity we live in today. This is what I want music to be. A love letter to the art form with pointed criticisms of said art form sprinkled in to keep lousy bands on their toes. Not something you lazily play next to your smelly RV on a pay and park beach, but something to be studied and felt. Something that makes an impact. I give this 12 Freaks Up, which with inflation, translates to about 5 Stars. Freak out! 5 HIGHLIGHTS: Hungry Freaks, Daddy, I Ain’t Got No Heart, Go Cry on Somebody Else’s Shoulder, Anyway the Wind Blows, Trouble Every Day, Help, I’m a Rock, It Can’t Happen Here

Nothing good happened in 2008. I feel like I couldn’t conjure up one album that came out that year before starting this list. Look at this album cover? I’m either in for a tear-jerking romp through the dank corridors of my repressed adolescent memories, or I’ll be crying that another late oughts album brought me to the brink of psychosis. Bring me my melancholic Rubik’s cube. I wish to crack the puzzle of this life. Oh and I need to warn these guys about the housing crash. Starlings - Ooh. A very cool start. Noooo vocals. Actually they’re not too bad. The heavy northern accent is kind of fun. If this didn’t also sound like “Hey there Delilah,” we’d be cooking with gas. The Bones of You - The music is really working for me. The vocals are a little operatic and forward in the mix, but the variety of instrumentation is killer on this one. Drags near the end. Mirrorball - This sounds like Coldplay is doing a Peter Gabriel cover. Frankly, I can’t imagine too many musical things worse than that. Imagine being trapped in a room. The key? Inside of a simple Rubik’s cube. The catch? Every wrong move you make, the bootleg Coldplay says “let’s kiss like we invented it.” They’d find me convulsing in a pool of my own ear blood and mouth vomit. Grounds for Divorce - THIS IS A FORD COMMERCIAL. For sure. I know it. The kind of music that interrupts the YouTube videos of the proletariat (no premium). Miserable. Do you have delusions of being blue collar? Well,The F-150 isn’t just for construction guys anymore. Not just because it costs 80,000 dollars, but also because we’re using inside Britpop riffs to advertise. Hop into our brand new hybrid model. One that’s perfect for daily trips to the more expensive grocery store and obstructing the city roads outside your overpriced condo. FORD. Please buy our shit. An Audience with the Pope - This one spent all of its good will on the title. Audience with? Underutilised phrase. Popes? Always a funny concept. We’re here at the Vatican for SmokeWatch 2025. This is the moment crazy religious people have been waiting for for some reason. Which old man will appear in front of crowds to defend millennia of child abuse and blatant exploitation of the most vulnerable? I can’t wait to find out. Here we go.The smoke billows. The smoke is black!!! I think that means we have a new contender for worst album this week. Weather To Fly - Ughhhhh. This sounds like every radio song in the “alternative” stations at this time. The Loneliness of a Tower Crane Operator - Listen. I hate glorifying working hard. I really do. I feel for people who have jobs where they can’t spend the first hour writing inane reviews of terrible albums. But. I feel in my heart that anybody who has ever even been near a Crane (Not the bird) would hate this music. Maybe that’s why they’re dunking on his loneliness. The Fix - The fix is in, dude. They’ve been conspiring against me since day 1. This song is a theatre kid’s dream, which means it is indeed my nightmare. Some Riot - Is this like “man, that was some riot hey? Things really got out of hand.” OR is it more “my windshield? Yeah it was some riot or something. People were storming the Melon Factory in my neighbourhood. This is the tenth violent clash over melons this month. I think I have to move. I mean sure, the smell is nice but I can’t keep dodging cantaloupe chunks. What do you mean melons aren’t made in a factory? Where do you think they’re made? The jungle? You think the jungle is REAL?? Alright pal. Anyway, I’ll take two cartons of the ones with Joe Camel on the front AND the biggest lighter you’ve got. I want to impress the judge. You got any of those shirts that look like tuxedos?” One Day Like This - It’s a bittersweeeet symphonyyyyyyyy. So bombastic, so lame. Please end this. Friend of Ours - Oh hey oh whoa. This guy here. He’s a friend of this thing that we do. Let’s just say he’s apprised of our little cantaloupe situation. We rule the melon market in this town. Watermelon, cantaloupe, mango, HONEYDEW?? Some shit you’ve never heard of from the fuckin uhh Fiji islands buddy. Whatever you need. Like mortgages in 2008, we have handed instruments, studio time, and critical acclaim to people hopelessly unqualified to hold those things. Our negligence and love of the concept of freedom has taken me here; listening to “Elbow” do whatever it is they did here. I enjoyed elements of the first couple songs and then we took a nosedive off of a cliff into truck commercials and pseudo-emotional boredom that will have me thinking “We reviewed a band called Elbow” in about three weeks. Microplastic induced amnesia aside, I hated this. It’s wallpaper music. Outdated, kind of gross, and ultimately just there, doing absolutely nothing and waiting for something better to come along to replace it. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: Hi, lights. I’ve been floored by bad albums again and I find myself gazing at your fluorescent glow. Whisk me away from here. Where the only music sounds like the screams from Satan’s cauldron accompanied by bitchin’ riffs.

Famously, my uncle, who listens to Alice in Chains, Tool, Nirvana etc. (typical Gen X rotation) said that if he could see one concert from any person at any time, it would be James Taylor. Something struck me so funny about this, that I’ve held onto that factoid forever. I thought “maybe he’s just trying to impress my aunt?” I don’t know why after a close to 30 year relationship, he’d be trying to score points by pretending to like a folk singer songwriter, but I digress. Maybe he was on to something? We’ll find out in the next hour or so. Solve a mystery for me, James (pronounced Ham-Es). Sweet Baby James - I hate cowboy songs but I’ll be damned if this wasn’t nice. Great job James. Not my favourite, but decent. Lo and Behold - I’m ashamed of myself, but I really liked this. This kind of song rides a razor thin line between great and completely unbearable. He did a great job here. If he even attempted to get really attitude-y, I’d probably be tearing Sunny Skies - Like how can this not be funny when put in the context of my opening paragraph? My Nova Scotian uncle who loves “Man in the Box” sitting front row at a church listening to Sunny Skies. This is a little too bubblegum for me. Let’s keep it moving. Steamroller - The least powerful blues man ever. This is like those YouTube videos where they do lounge covers of Cannobal Corpse songs. This has moments but it sleepily does feel like a parody of blues. Please never put horns in blues music ever again. Some doofus blowing the saxophone over an excellent guitar solo should be a crime. I don’t even really like guitar solos. Country Road - I initially made one of my classic typos, and wrote “Country Toad,” which I think we can all agree, is an adorable image. That is the only cowboy apparel I approve of. This is fading for me. My lighter is running out of butane, and the senior citizens behind us are falling asleep. Bring it up, James. Oh, Susannah - Oh, Susannah, you’re here. Uhhh well this was supposed to be a James Taylor concert, but I suppose you could play a song or two. What a rip. It was just another song about being southern. Not terrible. More likeable than the cosplay blues number. Fire and Rain - Boring, yet not offensive. The low buzz is cool. Blossom - Is this about that show? Just another middle of the road song. Anywhere Like Heaven - Um James? People do count the time. It’s called age. We keep pretty good track of that on this continent. Kind of ingrained in the culture at this point. Although in the loosey goosey 70’s who knows. I’m six orchids away from my Age of Enlightenment man. No, you’re a 31 year old car wash attendant from Boise. I like making stuff up. Oh Baby, Don’t You Loose Your Lip on Me - Don’t call yourself LoverMan JT. Nice blues attempt. I hate doubling up what I say and what I write, but he really does remind me of if they brought in a musician to do blues on Sesame Street. The description fits like a glove. Suite for 20 G - 20G?? And people are freaking out about 5G. Yeah this is riverboat music to the fullest extent. Maybe my uncle secretly dreams of the ol St. Louis to Nawlins authentic 1920’s riverboat steamship cruise adventure brought to you by Raising Cane’s Chicken. Well. This was fine wasn’t it? A nice soothing half an hour with the elder statesman of horn-based white guy blues. Most of this was wholly inoffensive and wouldn’t be out of place on in the background. I wouldn’t lunge at the aux “auxperator” in an attempt to silence this, but if you catch me putting this on for myself, call a neurologist. I hope my aunt and uncle are able to fulfill their dream and see James play a half empty church, but lord almighty, I think I’ll stay in that night. This album feels like tea. And much like tea, I’ll never seek it out, but it will sometimes do in a pinch. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Lo and Behold

Damn. Can the pun still be “not intended” if I realized it before I typed it? Whatever. I’ve definitely listened to this album once or twice to hear what all the fuss was about. Despite accusations of being a contrarian levied at me and Kendrick Lamar’s immense popularity, I can remember getting a ton out of this. I’m excited to revisit and I hope to glean even more from this effort. Good 29 year old MAAD suburbs is my working title of this review. Let’s start on a bad note. Sherane a.k.a Master Splinter’s Daughter - The Master Splinter requests an audience with the one they call Kendrick Lamar. Wait a minute. There’s no weird guy named Master Splinter? Whatever. As much as sex is an overused lyrical trope, this storytelling is out of this world. The musicality and lyricism blend so well. Bitch, Don’t Kill My Vibe - Catchy song but this has lost so much of its lustre for me. Very bright and exciting when I first heard it but I just don’t care about it anymore. Long live the 2020s attention span. The next generation will communicate in a series of bleeps and bloops. Not a horrible song, just doesn’t do anything for me these days. Backseat Freestyle - Man, this song is kinda bad. Repetition of really dumb lyrics in a very Kanye West fashion. Off-putting. The Art of Peer Pressure - More high quality storytelling. It’s nice to be rewarded for listening closely. As a song, this isn’t the greatest thing I’ve ever heard, but I’m certainly enthralled. A fascinating look at adolescent stresses, conflicting feelings, and morality. Money Trees - Another pop moment. However, The laid back yet highly infectious beat, the production, and the continuation of the narrative aspect of this album make this a true highlight. Poetic Justice - I hate this early 2010s club voice. I feel like it was used in so many radio songs. Do I have any source for that? Uhh. Look over there. Background vocals are pretty annoying in this case, but this isn’t abhorrent. Pretty catchy, fun. Oh NO. It’s Drake. Disgusting. He shouldn’t be allowed near any female without a Hannibal letter muzzle and a handler. good kid - This is the first song that I’ve kind of zoned out on. m.A.A.d city - Good lord. This is the kind of stuff that I gravitate towards. The old school aggression vibe with the brilliantly pointed lyrical criticism and acknowledgment of gang violence. A highly intelligent look at the emotions associated with a real issue while leaning heavily on best musical aspects of the genre. Greta feature from MC Eiht. Swimming Pools (Drank) - I feel like this song was the first meaningful song all the dumbest people I. High school listened to. I’ve heard so much discourse about this song for some reason. It’s great that such a popular artist can get that message to resonate, but “alcohol bad” is not exactly a revelation. Even in rap. We heard that excellent Public Enemy song a few weeks back. It is great to restate, especially considering the cultural connotations. Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst - Part deux of the average Lil Wayne listeners’ first experience of thought. I kid the lunkheads. This song this song is quite great. The rapping, the expert use of sound effects, and creation of in-depth emotion. The first beat is fairly boring to me, but everything else makes a very cool track. Real - Oh no. This chorus is awful. Really really really really real awful. Low energy nursery rhyme. I hate this. Compton - This sounds like a song that would appear in “Fight Night Champion.” I played a lot of that game. I think my expectations were too high here. I have certainly outgrown a lot of the feelings on this album. When Kendrick Lamar touches on something powerful that resonates with me, few modern rappers are as eloquent and impactful. There is also a lot of pop on this and frankly, not enough going on song-wise. Kendrick would improve on this formula in a couple years or so, but the songs here aren’t as good as we would hear on later projects. What a drab review. I’ll have to spice it up with something mean or something. I really have nothing. A highly literary rapper who crossed into the mainstream while not betraying one layer of himself. A complex look at street life with points of relation for every goofball in the suburbs make this an album that is ubiquitous in pop culture, and did a great deal to shape it as it is today. Like a MENSA meeting at a McDonald’s, this album is fascinating for its duality, if not slightly lacking in something to my ear. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: The Art of Peer Pressure, Money Trees, m.A.A.d city, Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst

Oh boo. I don’t care about this band at all. The hits have gotten annoying. Roxanne is good for a lark, but it doesn’t even appear on this album. I have no idea what this will sound like, so no need to beef up this into any further. Or should I say “pork?”Is it true that all cops really are bastards? Only one way to find out. Be a minority in a major North American city. Oh. Not that kind of police. The lame 80’s band fronted by the bad (non-wrestling) Sting. Onward and Downward. Synchronicity I - Honestly? Not bad. There is that annoying vocal style, but the robotic persistence of this rhythm isn’t too bad. It has an element of insanity that I kind of enjoy. I didn’t expect this to be subversive in any way, shape or form, so a pleasant start to be sure. Way to go fellas. Walking in Your Footsteps - These guys live for the stalker lifestyle. Hey, Mr. Dinosaur, if you were God’s favourite creature, how come you were decimated by meteors? At least future archeologists made you badass lizard freaks instead of the weird feather behemoths you most likely were. Take that, archeological community. Coming in with my vaguely misremembered and unsourced hot take. This was weird. Not in an entirely awful way. O My God - Bizarre improvisational jazz outro. That’s all I remember from this. I liked that. Mother - More odd horns? Mixed with screeching? I have to be honest, if you told me this was “The Police” I would assume that you were the police and I would start to flush my Flinstone vitamins. There is no way that this is the same band who is writing “Every Step You Take,” or “Roxanne.” Insane in all the best ways. Miss Gradenko - More of a Sandals Resort Commercial type song, but the guitar underneath is extremely interesting. Mixed bag here. Synchronicity II - One of the highest rated songs for the people who use that feature on RYM. The real monsters. The final boss(es) of pseudo-intellectual online discourses. I am but a peon in that world. My infrequent usage of the word “lush” pales in comparison to the verbose kings of internet-based takedowns and praise of music from Tchaikovsky to Cardi B. I don’t get this song, so long may my cocoon of ignorance envelop me and keep me safe from the sounds too esoteric for my banal ear canals. Every Breath You Take - NOOOO. On a quick scan I didn’t see any hits. Bring back “Mother.” Not the RuPaul song, but hell, even that would be an upgrade. Ok. Try to listen to it normally. I can do this. I do like the sinister lyrics and overtones under the guise of a period appropriate love song. It’s been taken and played at face value for so long, that I just can’t see it as anything but radio pap. In that tomb it shall remain. King of Pain - From behind the curtain billows miasmic clouds of black. Growls are heard and the crowd begins to cheer. Worn gladiators tremble. Some begin to run but cannot climb the walls. Finger nails bleed from the jagged stones. Blood starved populace laughs. The opening strains of “King of Pain” plays to signal the arrival of the monarch of misfortune. The gladiators begin to laugh. The curtain drops to reveal an emancipated yoga instructor whose body matches the song. He is poked down and will have to sit out the gladiator battles for 4-6 months with strained rib ligaments. The crowd is confused. Much like myself after sitting through this. Wrapped Around Your Finger - This song sucks. I don’t know if it’s more of the same idea of psychotic lyrics wrapped in a palatable package but the package is far too palatable here. Not enough subversion, and if that is the intended message, maybe tilt the hand just a little bit. Not musical theatre villain levels, but show some level of oddity with the music. Tea in the Sahara - Tea? In the desert? But tea is hot! You guys are NUTS. You know what is ice cold? This song. Colder than an Ice Train hot tag. This thing really fell off a cliff, hey? How they managed that in a desert, I’ll never know. Oh the high dune! Yeah man. This was a real thinker. That’s not my trademark sarcasm. It really was. I expected boiling hatred and disgust to permeate my 1 day late review of Synchronicity but I was pleasantly surprised. The second side wore out its welcome with me, but it never got too painful. One or two really bad songs but overall an album worth listening to. I would say that based on other listening, they hit their artistic peak with this, their final release. “Mother” was a true standout due to it really sounding nothing like anything else here. This is an album worth hearing. Once. But that doesn’t change that I have turned a corner on the police. Maybe Blue Lives Do Matt.. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG STOP RESISTING. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Mother

Close to who? Me? You don’t know me, man. You think because you sit there, looking like a 2025 Tofino couple propositioning me to join their polycule on our sustainable eco-cruise to Haida Gwaii, that you can chat me up? Listen guys, you’re nice, but I’m a married man AND I’m exclusively here to see cool birds and categorize them OH MY GOD IS THAT A BUFFLEHEAD. My comically large flashbulb clicks loudly and blinds them as it ejects into an endangered bird’s nest, setting it ablaze. “Can’t beat the quality of these babies” I say as I pat my camera, totally unaware of my now singed Wellington boots. The Carpenters seem confused and alarmed. I can later be seen yelling “ARE THERE WALRUSES HERE” at the tour guide. Anyway, here are the Carpenters. They do music apparently. We’ve Only Just Begun - Something so deeply sad about this. Not that it’s bad music, but when it came on I just felt like I was actually hallucinating my zany experience and I was actually on a rowboat shrouded in fog in the middle of the ocean. Love is Surrender - You must Surrender (If You Can). Saying somebody must do something (if you can) is very modern. Way ahead of their time. Maybe It’s You - Hoo Boy. This is really saccharine isn’t it? I mean it’s pleasant but man it’s like a cotton candy playground in a gumdrop kingdom. Reason to Believe - YES. Vaguely folk influenced. Lovely harmonies. Vaguely cheat-y lyrics, but god it’s everywhere you turn in media. People just getting bored is literally the cause of all the world’s problems. From hoarding wealth, unsustainable economic growth to adultery. Stop seeking endless expansion. Anyway. Good song. Help - A Beatles Cover that actually really improves in the song. I love what they did with it. (They Long to Be) Close To You - Part 365,914 of how watching “The Simpsons” as a child allowed me to grow into an adult with an acceptable base of knowledge that an adult should possess. The song is decent, but the point of reference makes me smile. The melodies at the close of the song are truly beautiful. Baby It’s You - Took a small break and returned, and I have to say, this song is pretty boring. Well I didn’t have to say it, but I’m a wild card. I’ll Never Fall in Love Again - What do you get when you listen to critically acclaimed albums every day? You get a sense of alienation as you really don’t seem to mesh with the stuff most people gravitate towards. That was the next lyric if the song was allowed to continue. Crescent Noon - Sick song title honestly. Hell yeah. Pretty haunting at points. Not enough to be a classic, but hey. Decent track. Mr. Guder - This has to be the name of a real guy. This isn’t just like “Mrs. Robinson.” Wait is it Mr. Gouda? Listen here, cheese man, leave those robots alone. “You’ve blown your life just playing a game, where no one wins and every one just stays the same” *flute solo*. Well that’s me done. Our lives are akin to hamsters on a wheel. I love my job I love my job I love my job I love my job. Productivity for my company is the most important thing to me. I Kept on Loving You - Don’t trust him, girl. Can’t get over the gaslighter lyrics. I feel like “gaslight” has become the new word that everyone uses to refer to things they don’t like in an argument. It’s like narcissist. Remember when every person who someone didn’t like was a “narcissist?” I love words. Another Song - Is this part of the album? I like it. I mean a funk bassline behind an ominous woodwind solo? Based ending. A cool album. Rain dusted candy floss that may or may not contain trace amounts of psilocybin. Disgustingly sweet at times, but also occasionally morose to the point of tears. Likeable for the most part and definitely something I didn’t mind having on. There were beautiful melodies and even a little bit of a takedown of the dystopian concept of daily brain enslavement that has increased a million fold since this album’s release. I’m writing this via voice to text, as I’m in a little bit of trouble with the good folks at Fish and Wildlife after my photographic faux pas earlier on. They’ve allowed me to dictate most of this in the back of the Ranger. Zip ties be damned. Quiet down back there. Hey I know my rights, pal. Uhh how do you backspace. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Reason to Believe, Help, (They Long to Be) Close To You, Mr. Guder

That’s K-E-I-T-H JA-Double R-E-Double T, Keith Jarrett. I don’t know what the Germans are in store for here. I don’t know at all. I’m hoping for jazz? I really don’t have anything past the old wrestling references. Title of my upcoming tell-all memoir. Anyway. Here’s Keith. Part I - Not my favourite way to start. I really love some piano led jazz, but all piano? For an hour? We shall see. I mean the playing is virtuosic. It fills the room and is pretty spellbinding to be honest. It feels like it has a gospel lilt at times. What genre is this? I’m being recommended jazz alongside it, but it feels like it touches on a few differing musical sounds. Long track. Goes everywhere but altogether pretty nice. Way to go Keith. Consider my hands clapping along with the intellectual masses in Köln. Part II a - Really? We can’t do Part II and then III? Yeah guys we still have to get to bulletin F of subsection AB of Part XXXVI. It’s gonna be a long night. More excellent piano playing that is fairly hit or miss with me. Hit and miss? Don’t start using phrases correctly now, pal. Anyway. Listenable, nothing moving me to tears or anything. Part II b - Yeah we’re really going this way with naming conventions. Whatever. This opening riff is cool. Just sort of goes on from there. Really milks that Standing O. I thought it was over for sure, but my god there is more. Part II c - I think there’s going to be some more piano here. Yes! I did it again. The Nostradamus of music knocks another dinger to the fuckin’ moon. Wow he really included this second standing ovation. That is actually so lame. What a dork. Anyway. Whatever. It’s over. What can I say about Keith Jarrett. I detect a distinctly egotistical stench from the inclusion of extended applause BUT, when you lay down beautifully played and seemingly improvisational jazz piano for over an hour, maybe you deserve to. This was not all that exciting to me, but I can appreciate the gentle nature of it and of course the incredible talent. I’m not really here to judge talent as I’m not even talented at my chosen medium, but even musically, this thing had some great moments. The production was beautiful to my ears and I had a good time overall. Not exactly my thing, but not exactly not my thing. Whatever. Here’s the rating. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Thinking of the phrase “Tickling the Ivories.”

HELLO ST. LOUIS!! I’ve read a few of my recent reviews back and the cognitive decline is on full display. Just riddled with half finished thoughts and typos that render a previously difficult read completely unconquerable. Whatever. Abject failure set aside (for now), we gaze towards former drugged up rock act and current haunted leather puppets, Aerosmith. Will their attic be filled with half-alive horrors of a realm unbeknownst to humankind? Or will it be one of those attics where there are just dead pigeons and the occasional vole? Only the press of the triangular play will answer these queries. Join me in the proverbial voyage to the centre of boomer-dom. Toya in the Attic - Pretty straightforward rock song, kicked off with some energy. Didn’t hate it. Uncle Salty - Almost wrote “Uncle Slay.” Sometimes the indiscriminate dropping of my missle-esque ham fingers onto this digital keyboard like so many Geneva convention violations, produces some real magic. Like Uncle Slay. Werk Queen. This song is boring. Adam’s Apple - I have to say this hasn’t been what I expected so far. The vocals are far more subdued and the riffs are cooler than I could’ve imagined. I had low expectations. However, this is the big band, diner jukebox shit moment that every old rock album seems to have. Pass. Walk This Way - Where is Run DMC??? Count me out. No, I am fully aware that this was an Aerosmith song well before the heavyweight crossover between those two later on in musical history. This is a great song. At least when it discusses high school girls, the narrator is also high school aged. Is that so hard?? Great bass and fantastic guitar riff. A true highlight. Big Ten Inch Record - How can ten inches be big? Aren’t records normally 12? So this is a below average record? Hmm. Over exaggerating size and doing 50’s diner rock without a sense of humour. And yes, I’m aware of the pun. I firmly stand behind my accusation of being humourless. Sweet Emotion - The song that launches a thousand transphobic Facebook comments every morning. The song that rips over the Bose sound system as that F250 engine roars to life in its suburban garage. I can’t hate the song, but it just sounds wrong without the crackle of the radio and the annoying voice of the DJ announcing that rush hour has indeed started again, as it does every day. Give the boomers their props on this song. It’s not too bad. No More No More - We need a ballad. Bring it home. Oh wait no, it’s a dancing on the bar Grease outtake featuring lines like “Jailbait, stalemate, ladies can’t refuse.” Snore. Round and Round - Oh I kept thinking this would be the start song. Holy hell, this is verging on a Black Sabbath riff. I don’t say that lightly. Missing all of the sinister feeling, but that is an excellent guitar sequence. Yeah this is the best song so far. Heavy as hell. You See Me Crying - Man, you see ME crying? Was this an attempted hit? Terrible way to close this thing out. Meat, meet potatoes. This is as barebones and basic as it gets for a rock album. The performances are fine to good. The songs offer a little more as they range from outdated garbage to excellent. Like a raccoon, I continue to sift through dumpsters in search of the delectable morsels, known as good music. They sustain me. This was more discarded batteries and dog shit than say, say-old donuts, but you can’t blame the poor fellas. This is your perfect C grade album. Sits right in the middle of my scale. Moments of enjoyment, a few dearths of musical destitution and numerous trips to the 50’s revival café, leave me sitting firmly on the fence. Don’t do drugs and clean out that damn attic, would ya? 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Walk This Way, Sweet Emotion, Round and Round

Imagine there’s no Beatles. It’s easy to uhh if you. Hmmm. That is my rendition of Joe Lennox’s excellent song “Imagination.” I believe the rest of it goes, “I am a citizen of the Imagi-Nation. My passport is made of unicorn mane hair, and yes, even though I imagined this nation, we still need identification.” That song got me through some tough times. One of the top 400 songs about mind based countries to ever be released and that? That’s important. I’m starting to sound like ChatGPT. How much time do you think we have left as a species? A decade? Imagine - No heaven?? Come on now. There is obviously an omnipotent sky man who just happens to have the same interests as the ruling classes throughout history. And if sky man is there, there is DEFINITELY a good place for hard workers who obey the rulers’ rules and a bad scary place for people who break those rules. Duh! Listen. Ol John boy released a great song here, but in 2025, it’s impossible to not hear every American idol auditoner belting this thing out sans original emotional weight. Oh and who could forget the celebrity zoom rendition from the early pandemic. Yeesh. This song will never be fresh again. Crippled Inside - Buckle your seatbelts, we’re entering deep track territory. Riverboat ticklin’ of those ivories. Fuck it. This rules. Hand me a Sarsaparilla and a pork pie hat. We’re goin’ riverboatin’. There is enough old school blues here to help me ignore the piano. Genuinely super fun song with some heavy lyrics. Jealous Guy - I can’t for the life of me decide if this is kind of likeable, or completely insufferable. I guess if I’m on the fence, then maybe it’s a nuanced issue. That will not stand! It’s 2025, I need to be on one side, and I need to be EXTREME ABOUT IT. Not in a cool Disney Skateboard adventure kind of extreme either. You know when you play as Zurg of Toy Story fame doing a fucking kick flip over Mufasa? Not that kind. The other kind of extreme, where you ignore nuance to receive hits of dopamine in the form of social media adulation. I will say, I think I lean towards liking this song. I guess I’m not really a zealous guy. It’s So Hard - More white guy blues. The tones are pretty great, but horns and white guy blues leave me precariously perched on the precipice of hatred. Not as strong a song here but not bad. I Don’t Wanna Be a Soldier Mama - If there has ever been a dramatic song title, this is the most dramatic. Man that production is cool. Not the direction I thought this would go and I’m loving it. That cavernous sound mixed with examination of the horrors of capitalistic enslavement on either side of the rifle make this a monster. It’s long, and would’ve probably worked better as a shorter track, but I find it almost hypnotic which further highlights the desperation of the lyrical content. Ah this one rules. Full stop. Gimme Some Truth - Hit me. Am I too fat? Do I spend too little time writing? Eh. This song was just there. Repetitive and didn’t hit as hard to me. Oh My Love - No no no no. Not great. How Do You Sleep? - Do you toss and turn? Maybe Twist and Shout? Stay awake “imagining” freaks? Fresh off the trucks, I am Overstocked on the Beatlemania 6000. Padded with 100 million one pound notes and lined with the contributions of black American blues musicians, your Hard Day’s Nights are over. Jump into the Beatlemania 6000 and return to the world of quiet sleep. Just don’t wake Paul! The Beatles version of “No Vaseline” was pretty interesting, albeit a little slow. Not a bad track. How? - Oh boy this is almost a disco tinged ballad. Horrible. I’m so disappointed because this album has been very interesting so far. Oh Yoko! - John Lennon, confirmed “Wife Guy.” Please don’t say “My love will turn you on.” I might have taken a shot at the guy for that alone. Assassin empathy aside, this is a catchy song, and despite the odd societal rhetoric, it’s a positive thing that the guy loved his wife. Can’t believe I have to say that. Anyway. Pretty way to close. Imagine an album that didn’t tail off on the back half and you’re imagining a close to 5 star effort. This is seemingly an album surrounded by controversy and things far outside of music and therefore seems to have polarized online opinions. Hell, 95% of the reviews seem to be “paul better” or “errm if he really believed in a slightly better world then why didn’t he live nomadically and own no clothes.” Thanks for regurgitating capitalist propaganda, online geniuses. Now I’m doing it. The music here was cool for the most part and I enjoyed my time Imagining. Way to go John Boy. Sorry for the assassin jab, ol chap. You must understand I’m stuck for material. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Crippled Inside, Jealous Guy, I Don’t Wanna Be a Soldier Mama, Oh Yoko!

Just out at the airstrip with my Swedish pop group. I won a contest so they have to hang out with me and sit in my weird helicopter. That is at least what this cover looks like. No smiles, all business. I am really dreading this, I have to say. Well. Start your engines and set course for post-disco and may our journey be guided by the steady hand of reason. When I Kissed The Teacher - Right off the bat, the worst song title in human history. That accent is HEAVY. Yeah I mean I bet the teacher is petrified because he’s going to lose his job after being accosted by a Swedish high schooler. I can’t let you get close. Take a swing. Eh. Listen. Besides the boneheaded lyrical content, this is a nice song. Pretty nice soundscape and melody. Dancing Queen - Do we really include entire albums for singles? I don’t mean albums for people who are alone. We covered that with “The Verve” and Radiohead. Well this is one of the most popular songs, seemingly ever. “You turn em on… you’re only 17.” Perfect. Hey! It was the 70’s. I do not enjoy this song. Moving on. My Love, My Life - All the words I try to find, I cannot seem to find a way to possess the elusive adjectives to properly describe this song. Ah! Like a bolt from the blue, there it is. I present to you “Meh.” Dum Dum Diddle - Jesus. The new heavyweight champ for dumbass lyrics. Sounding like a Japanese arcade to start and then the repetitive droning pop wears out its welcome pretty quickly. Knowing Me, Knowing You - Ugh. I’m so bored. What can I say about this? Money, Money, Money - What a devastating uhh critique? I can’t tell if this is a critique of rich people because it sure sounds like “jeez I just want to marry a rich guy.” Cutting edge feminism here from the Swedish songsters here That’s Me - More of the same pop music. This is endless. Why Did It Have to Be Me? - That’s what I’ve been asking! Finally, a point of relation here. I really would’ve been fine never hearing a full ABBA album. This is the worst song by far. Jingle Bell Rock played through an eastern bloc radio during a work lottery announcement. Death on wheels. Tiger - Holy hell, will this ever end? There are like 4 songs left. Nay, exactly 4. I wanted this to actually be about a tiger. Perhaps stalking the streets of Stockholm. Arrival - We are entering the atmosphere of KlagNar 27. Scanning for Swedish Pop Groups. Oh good. Nothing there. Proceed to land. I swore this place would be swarming with fair haired crooners. Thank god we can continue with our research mission. Jones, collect some samples. Jones? Why is there a blond hair on your spacesuit. Oh god, what’s that sound. I knew it!! Ripped apart to the tune of dancing queen in the far reaches of the cosmos. Fernando - The worst song so far. Is this about some fireworks display? For you, for me, for liberty? What the fuck is this? Happy Hawaii - No, it’s happy Birthday. Is it? Isn’t it borthday? So many questions. Gee I’m really glad we included this Kids Bop Beach boys song after 40 minutes. What a fantastic romp through mediocrity. The theatrics and the lyrics drag this to my own personal musical hell. I can’t say this is the worst music ever released and I can barely even say it’s cynically made. The performances feel like they believe in this garbage wholeheartedly. I just hate it. I can’t do it. There are some songs that I could see enjoying g if they changed the lyrics and presentation but that’s pretty much changing the whole song, and I can’t award points based on that. Truly difficult to get through in every way. I shall never return. Well, except every time somebody deems it necessary to play these songs in public places. One day we’ll be able to coexist without a dimwitted soundtrack. That’s my vision for humanity. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: Herregud, det här är verkligen ganska fjantigt?

Fuck you. NO. Let’s get this over with. The worst band in the entire world can only be saved by what I’m learning is the first bloody song. The only reason I can tolerate that song is that sweet HHH recovery video package from 2000. Look what I willingly put myself through? I really am history’s strongest soldier. Onward to battle. Beautiful Day - If I didn’t have images of huge Madison Square Garden crowd reactions dancing in my head, I’d be on the verge of calling hotlines of various purposes. I wouldn’t even stop at the suicide hotline. I’d hit up movie phone, homework hotline, a few adult party lines. Basically whoever will listen to me tell them U2 has no business having a released record, let alone the career they’ve had. Long live pro wrestling, and may the decades erase Bono and the Edge from our collective consciousness. Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of - Oh I know the feeling. This is Radiohead performing “Waiting on the world to Change.” You haven’t found a song you can sing yet there Boner. This is truly awful. Elevation - The brand new Mazda Miata has YOU in mind. And when YOU’RE in mind, you’re in control. Drive a Mazda Miata. Drive YOU. Or maybe this is an ad for elusive elevator manufacturers, Otis. I see that name on every elevator. You’ll never see an Otis ad. Complete ballers. EL EL BEAN. Oh my god. The Christianity break at the 2 minute mark. This is just such a radio bait stinker. Devoid of meaning. Walk On - Don’t whisper to me. I am sprawled on the floor, typing through spasms and convulsions. Alive in name only. Saliva foaming mixing with the blood exiting every orifice on my body. Ruination of music. I didn’t know it was dead until I heard this song. Kite - More like shite. Full disclosure, it took a few weeks in the writers room, but after some great collaboration we got there before I even heard the first note of this song. Now that I have heard the first note, I have to say; I liked the first note. Little did I know, that was the last meal prior to a botched execution. They didn’t use enough of the lethal injection formula. Permanently screaming, drawn and quartered over the infinity of the afterlife. Not fully in any dimension. In a Little While - I said “Are You Kidding Me?” Out loud. This isn’t a bit. I’ve said this too often and it’s lost all meaning. If you are reading this, I implore you to heed these words. I mean it this time. This is without a doubt, the worst song I have ever heard. Will I regret those words? I’m on “the edge” of my seat. Wild Honey - “I was a Muhhuhhnkey.” Viagra Boys do the evolutionary lyrical themes. They’re fun. They make good music. There’s a sense of humour. This is a gross comparison of a woman (?) to the honey you ate when you were a monkey? WHAT? Peace on Earth - You know what would give me peace? The dissolution of U2. Whoa! Bono is sick of bad stuff happening? What a swell guy. Sick of the Pain. Amen sister. Wait I thought you grew up as a monkey and you swung from the trees eating wild honey. This song has a suspicious proximity to 9/11. I think it caused it. Somebody call Michael Moore. When I Look at the World - Let’s get this deeply nuanced perspective from terrible millionaire musician who has never been told no. Go ahead. Tell me about the world. New York - My favourite lyrical topic. This city man. It’s lonely. It’s tough. But it draws me like a moth to a flame. My heart beats in conjunction with the G Train. Please don’t tell people I’m from Boise, Idaho. I will literally kill myself. I need to pay 4500 dollars a month and walk through human shit. That is my price to pay for a personality. Your humble narrator Grace - Very easily could’ve wrote Grave. And I did. One of the rare typos that I actually catch. I believe I subconsciously want myself to fail. Anyway. Water is wet, hippos are rotund and this song is awful. Life goes on. I am a progressive guy. I really do abhor violence on a large scale and I think macho tough guy posturing is pathetic. I do also believe with all of my heart, that “Bono” (Paul Hewson) and his definitely bald friend “The Edge” (David Evans) needed to be hit. With a fist or perhaps a palm. There is just too much ill-gotten confidence between them. It is for this confidence that the world has paid ultimate price in a hellish positive feedback loop. Whether through auto loading your shitty album to peoples phones or just having the balls to continue to release music that sounds like this. Why is it that I struggle to maintain eye contact at a social gathering, but these talentless blobs have the gall to have released anything, let alone their extensive catalogue of half-imitation waterlogged pop rock? I struggle to find words outside of the realm of hatred and malice. Once more I find myself carving a swath through the fetid jungle that is the musical output of U2. This stretch of the wilderness was particularly troublesome. I believe I may have come down with something. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Uncle o’ Grimacey remains the king of Ireland.

You better believe I used to have the television show “Ink Master” on pretty much round the clock. When I see Dave fuckin Navarro (also of random Tim & Eric cameo fame) on this band page, you know that’s all I could think about. Did he play on this album though? He did. Wow. Truly a dedication to living mas. Not a band I’ve heard a lot from, so this is a new world for me. Regarding this review, will I leave a large chasm of unfinished thoughts and horrible typos in this review? The anser is almost assuredly Up the Beach - Intro track. Nothing really happening in a good or bad way. Fine. Ocean Size - These vocals are very distinctive. I did know that about the band. Love how this song kicked in. Kind of lulled from there but there were cool moments here. Had a Dad - Grown men referring their father as “Daddy” has always been odd to me, but hey. Maybe it’s a punk thing. This is a nice alt-rock song. Sweet riff, and lots of variety. Great energy here and we’ll lay the responsibility for the dopey lyrics on the punk influence. Yeah let’s go with that. Ted, Just Admit It - Whoa. Saying the name of the album in a song that isn’t named after the album? These guys mean business. Honestly, this is pretty great. It almost sounds like what thrash bands were trying to do in the mid 90s. But they just sounded like washed up thrash bands. This sounds really fresh and urgent. Standing in the Shower…Thinking - I’m glad he ended that with thinking! I shudder to think that he wasn’t being productive. That should be every person’s worst nightmare. I need to be increasing shareholder value or I might as well just fade away. Dystopian propaganda aside, this song did suck. Summertime Rolls - This song refers to the weight I gain in the summer because I refuse to go outside in the sweltering heat. I wish I could refuse. Especially now that summers will continue to get hotter. This is uplifting! Anyway, the song is boring. Mountain Song - We’re so back. That is, we’ve been jolted back into a semi-alive state after the last song. Decent track. Idiots Rule - Boy howdy, they sure do. Did he say Cheetos have their way? Like the lame, lazy, millennial “insult” levied at the fascist sympathizing talking head to our south? Oh. Cheaters. Yeah idiots really are in charge, and unfortunately for a lot of people, idiots make up most of the voter base. I mean I think an idiot composed much of the weird horn section of this song. Jane Says - This band seems to have an inside track on the world of this “Jane” character. Who is she? Why is she so interested in this band? I’ve definitely heard this song. It’s repetitive and a little grating. Thank You, Boys - Well done lads. Pigs in Zen - Fat animals? We’ve got em. Silly, futuristic (for the time) funk metal riffs? Yup. I like it. Kind of insane, but I suppose the idea of enlightened hogs doesn’t lend itself to reason. This wasn’t half bad. Certainly wasn’t full bad either Pretty cool in spots and never really that unpleasant. After U2, it sounded like hearing music for the first time, but I am a professional unpaid and unread music reviewer, so I didn’t let that effect the listen. And hey, I didn’t even mention Ink Master. Oh well. Dave isn’t the funny one anyway. Get me an Oliver Peck album and we’ll really get some quotables. Lines that fit the GOD DAMN SHAPE. I love trash. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Had a Dad, Ted, Just Admit It, Pigs in Zen.

This album cover rules. Put it on a shirt and then put it on my body. Maybe somebody will ask me to name three songs and I’ll have to say I CAN’T because I’m a POSER. Are you happy now? What can I say, I like the pink, I like the composition and most of all, I like the weird smiling man with the flaming mop (?). Let’s get weird. Hopefully. Sex Beat - Punk? Score. This is the sex beat? Nothing’s happening. I thought this was like a rain dance. Being lied to out of the gate isn’t the way I wanted to start the cool album cover album. Preaching the Blues - I liked the start of this quite a bit. Hell, the whole thing is the same so I like it quite a bit in general. Repetitive, but very high energy. Good stuff. Promise Me - More repetition and drawn out ideas, but that near constant tone in the background is super cool. Nice touch. She’s Like Heroin to Me - Well, she’s like a heroine to me. We’re not the same. Hey guys? This song rules. Keep up the good work. They can’t miss a vein here. For the Love of Ivy - OH YEAH. We’re in riff city. AND we’re talking about wanting to go to hell? Hell yeah. This song rules. The riff switch-ups, the rage, and even the extended . Everything fits. Punk with a sense of anxiety. Fantastic. Well. I mean that one lyric was pretty suspect. Not sure of the context for the n word?? Anyway. Fire Spirit - After that awkward realization, of course this song kicks all kinds of ass. Has me questioning everything. Well. I can’t deny that this is another monster of a song. Ghosts in the Highway - Why is O beside I on the keyboard? I swear to god I can’t write in or on. Even that sentence was butchered repeatedly. Anyway, this song was a return to normalcy. Showing off the country influence, but kind of slow for me. Jack on Fire - Could’ve named this song “Jack Off Fire” but they didn’t. First lyrical disaster averted and I for one would like to applaud them for that. It takes a lot of restraint to put down the pen when you’re about to write a song about uhh self-love. Anyway, this song was another lull. Too repetitive for me. Black Train - We’re so back. Oh god is he using the n word again? Alright. I’m hoping that it’s some sort of commentary on this style of music. I’m not seeing much come up on Wikipedia about it, so I’m going to assume this isn’t the Klan’s favourite band. Cool Drink of Water Blues - Smoooth. Tooooooo loooooong. Oh well. They tried. Goodbye Johnny - My name isn’t Johnny. You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d start to think that these bands weren’t writing these songs with me in mind. Now THAT is ridiculous. Man if you take 20 minutes off this album, we’re talking about one of the great punk releases of all time. When it was good, this thing was unstoppable. Tight playing showcased the palpable, sizzling energy on this record. Now the weird n-word segments. I don’t really know what to think there. There is really no outcry online that I can see or mention of the band being racist in any way. I’ll take the word usage as an outdated way of showing the ridiculous? While those moments did kind of take me out of it, the songs themselves? Very good. Cut some of the filler away and I’m playing this one on repeat. Don’t shoot the messenger. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: She’s Like Heroin to Me, For the Love of Ivy, Fire Spirit

This review writes itself. Uhh it’s on the cover??? Yup. BAD. Unless it’s good, then I’m FUCKED. I can’t imagine the weird pedophile man with the razor nose will produce a good album, but I’m giving it the old college try. College. Not elementary. Remember, death cleanses all sins in the eyes of the public. Bad - I can only hear “Fat” from Weird Al. I actually don’t think I’ve ever even heard this version. When you’re having seconds, I’m having 23rds, when I go to get my shoes shined, I have to take their word. Never question the integrity of a shoe shiner. Wise words. Ugh, so MJ. The song is pretty funky, but something about it feels quiet. Almost subdued. Not sure if it’s the remaster or what. The Way You Make Me Feel - This remains a catchy song. It lasts way too long and is too happy for me, but I’m not in misery. And that? That’s the true meaning of Christmas. Christmas in this instance is of course, listening to pop albums. Speed Demon - Thurman “Sparky” Plugg theme song. Genius of the ring and the track. God, this is honestly kind of good. It’s insane. I’m not sure if he was going for that level of artistry, but I like this song. Liberian Girl - How many pop fans learned about Liberia from this song? How many American pop fans still believe this is about a librarian? My guess is most. I suppose this is a deep track. You taught me to reeeeead. This is like the pedophile version of Sadé. I’m sorry to Sadé. Queen of pop. This is a misstep. Just Good Friends - The derailing of that opening bassline for this pallid imitation of 80’s pop is the worst rail disaster of all time. Something something kiss and hug me? Get real, man. These lyrics stink. The short king gets friendzoned audio has finally been put to tape. Another Part of Me - The basslines continue to go hard as all get out, but the vocals and pop sensibilities make me want to say “get out.” No ghostwriter here folks. That’s all my own home cooking. Can’t you tell? The tortured syntax, the lame gags? It’s classic me. Man in the Mirror - Oh no. What is that intro. He just sounds like a feeble oddball. It’s literally the portrayal from “Atlanta.” He’s insane. One of the worst pop hits of all time, but the radio deserves nothing less. Humans hate creativity and abhor musical innovation even more. I’m asking the man in the mirror why I was able to summon him by saying “mirror man” three times. He doesn’t seem malevolent. He’s just standing there and miming that he can’t hear me. Nice chap. I Just Can’t Stop Loving You - (underage boys) was chopped off the title after testing negatively in most markets. The Catholic Church considered making it their theme song before the last minute alteration. This song takes the worst aspects of the human experience and distills them into the duet from a high school theatre production held in a decommissioned Quiznos in upstate New York. Dirty Diana - Dirty Dian-meh Smooth Criminal - Usher in nu-metal afterthoughts Alien Ant Farm. Credit to those goatee-laden pioneers for introducing this song to a generation of white kids filled with more monster energy than sense. The original is, well, kind of good. It’s overplayed, but the performance feels Leave Me Alone - Hey I haven’t been that rough on this. You deserve these jabs. Considering how I speak about U2, I’d say you got off pretty easy. Alright. Wrap it up. Let’s go. A lot of this album has the vibe of a shy vocal jazz enthusiast scatting kind of far from the microphone. That is appealing to an enjoyer of the bizarre. What is not appealing is the added context of this vocalist’s personal exploits. And I do mean exploits. I believe I was 15 when he died, and I was baffled that people were so celebratory of the career when for my entire life to that point, he had been denigrated as a predator. Taught me a lot about death and the way that society glorifies people and things after they’re gone. Some may argue that death is a point of reflection for the person’s entire life, but I don’t believe most people are that thoughtful. I think it’s a reflex that I can’t fully explain. We just want to remember the positives. Our brains are excellent at forgetting the negative. What was I saying? Oh right! I’m reviewing an album. Who cares about this? It’s so mediocre and has so much filler.i will say that it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. Neither bad unlistenable nor really all that filled with attitude. There are excellent basslines and couple enjoyable songs, but the eccentric freak out vocal ticks get old quick, especially over these sugary pop choruses. This ain’t for me. Add in the allegations, and you’ve got a recipe for music I never want to hear again. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: Speed Demon, Smooth Criminal

What is going on here? Of course I’m asking about the album cover, but I left that sentence fragment in the text box for awhile and it seemed like a funny idea for a complete review. Alas, the completionist/masochist in me forces me to write another unreadable review that will fittingly, never be read. Fela Kuti is… jazz? I don’t really know, but I’m excited to see how this turns out. One way or another, I think it’s going to be memorable. Zombie - ZOOOMBIE ZOMBIE EH EH EH. Man. I really don’t like that song. This song? Pretty good. A little lively and happy for me, but it has a great energy. Relentless funk bassline and huh? Vocals?! Oh well. Nobody’s perfect. Man. It actually goes real hard. Suspiciously hard. So much musical variety and a palpable energy that I initially found a little sugary, but now hits as the funk juggernaut that it is. Mr. Follow Follow - The follow up to the Police’s stalker opus from last week. I mean with a name like that, you’re destined for greatness in the world of sleuthing. It’s a thin line between stalking for good and evil. This is a smooth jazz song with those persistent funk lines underneath. Late vocals popping in again. Listen, it’s not my exact brand of jazz, but it is certainly broadening my horizons. Observation is No Crime - See? Every song is about stalking people. I simply watch, is it so wrong in this topsy turvy world to observe one’s paramour from the proverbial (and literal) bushes? This song isn’t as good. The late vocals that seem to be a trend here are not as engaging and the background vocals have shifted into annoyance territory. Not bad by any means, but this is a let down. Until the end at least. These are long songs so they go all over the world. The sweet jazz outro was an oasis. Mistake (Live) - Those Germans love their jazz. Now this is a good live performance. High quality audio featuring an enamoured crowd. It’s a big enough crowd that I’m not taken out of it by individuals yelling. It probably also helps that they’re not American, meaning they’re less obnoxious. I am so intrigued by the choice to start singing around the same distance into every song. I’m getting so many conflicting track listings for this thing. Things like that make my skin crawl. The RYM page has three songs that i didn’t listen to and none of the songs that i did. The Wikipedia states that THIS is the track listing, but tracks 3 and 4 are CD reissue bonus tracks. I suppose that when this was written, nerds with OCD weren’t the target demo. Whatever. I listened to Fela Kuti from around this era and I was very pleased. Complex and engaging music that challenges and welcomes all at the same time. This Fela Kuti Fella is a real Kutie. No? I like the Kuti of his jib? It just sounds like I’m coming on to the guy. Whatever. Thanks for the memories ol’ Fela. 3.5-4 HIGHLIGHTS: Zombie, Mr. Follow Follow

Finally. I’ve been emailing and trying to reach out via under-utilized social media platform “Tout” asking about when we would get music performed by birds. We’ve had plenty of nerds, plenty of women (birds? Get it!?!), but now I need to get an avian worldview. Sometimes you’re the penguin waiter, and some days you’re the shaved penguin patron of the outdoor picnic sanctuary. Who am I? I am the ornithological enthusiast observing this historic meeting of the minds as no human has. Fly, o flightless. Reach for Penguin Cafe Single - Yeah I’ll take a single shot. If possible, could it not have fish juice in it? This cafe smells really bad. Also, can I get a penguin who didn’t just shit near the pile of mackerel bones to prepare the coffee? Thanks. This is a mix of classical music and a silent movie soundtrack. What have I gotten myself into here? It’s catchy and interesting. That works for me. Must be why this one was destined to be the chart topper. Zopf: From the Colonies - Oh HELL yeah. The penguins have banded together to invent flight. They have one of their penguin friends in a rudimentary apparatus. The first flight was a failure. Pick up the feathers and try again. Zopf: In a Sydney Motel - We’re talking Sydney Nova Scotia, I’m sure. Actually a really pretty song. Loving this. Maybe the blueprints are being drawn up in that Super 8 in Sydney Mines. An inconspicuous locale for such a noble effort. Zopf: Surface Tension - After weeks of planning and fitting. A few twisted wings, many feathers lost, but now, the best shot these black and white Wrights have. The smallest penguin in the colony, clad in aviation goggles stands atop the roof of the Super 8 in Sydney. Crude engines whir to life. Lift off. Evolution has been circumvented. The baristas of the Antarctic now have flight and while once a distant adversary, the sky is now another conquered sea bass, laid bare for exploration. Zopf: Milk - Those little vocal runs. This is insane in all the best ways. Twelve thumbs up. Zopf: Coronation - All hail the emperor cry the birds. Each now shaved in a specific pattern in order to accommodate the flying apparatus. Evolution be damned, the penguins have forced the hand of Darwin and now reign supreme over the skies. Today, Cape Breton, tomorrow, the world! Touch the sky my monochromatic compatriots, for tomorrow we are forever. Zopf: Giles Farnaby’s Dream - Giles awoke drenched in sweat. In his desk an unfinished manifesto and on the television, a penguin documentary. It was all a dream. “Maybe I should give flightless birds a chance,” he mutters aloud to himself. Giles flicks the television off and the crumpling of paper bookends the static-y hum of the motel television. Upon the crumpled page. Sentence fragments can be observed. BIRDS.. MEANT.. FLY. Giles hadn’t considered the dangers. Now, sleep came easily. All had been revealed. The Sound of Someone You Love Who’s Going Away and It Doesn’t Matter - This is beautiful. I don’t even know what’s going on, but I’m entranced. This is when music baffles me. How can a mind conceive of this? A perfect coming together of infinite possibilities. Hugebaby - The duality of man. The soaring beauty grounded in melancholic humanity of the previous track, only to fade into a song called Hugebaby. Sometimes being human really is great. Another sweet moment on the record. Quieter, less enthralling but very listenable. Chartered Flight - A nice closer. Nothing mind-blowing but a sweet way to end. From the insanity of the first few tracks to the serene closing strains, this album was great. Totally unique in every sense of the word and a beautiful way to spend 45 minutes or so. I found this invigorated all the dumbest parts of my brain and caused a vomit of vocabulary that may or may not have made sense. Who cares at this point? Fittingly, the 199th album we review sits just shy of a round numbered milestone, but this was a revelation. More of this. 4-4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Zopf: In a Sydney Motel, Zopf: Milk, The Sound of Someone You Love Who’s Going Away and It Doesn’t Matter

Ugh. Can we do a metal album? I’m tired of sounding like a 14 year old atheist, but I just don’t know how much more pop I can do. And before the screeches of “this isn’t pop!1!1!” pierce my eardrums from miles and eons away, I realize that “pop” can sound diverse. I even like some of it, but of the radio songs I’ve heard from this group, I am dreading the next 73 minutes. Can I say my dog ate my homework? Daftendirekt - Whoa. Pretty funky. My biggest problem with this band is the repetition, and I can see that it’s going to be an issue right away. How’s this going to be over an hour? The beat itself here is engaging though. I’ll give them that. WDPK 83.7 FM - This isn’t a song. I got tricked. Revolution 909 - Is this something you’d listen to at home? This is what is playing behind a low budget fashion show or possibly, an even lower budget pornographic picture. I’m really glad I put my headphones on and sat down to listen to this. (I’m not) Da Funk - There’s a guy dressed up like a dog on the Spotify looping video thing. He appears to be waiting for a bus. That’s the best thing about this album so far. Phoenix - Remember Enzo Amore? He got accused of sexual assault and got fired from WWE, and then made one of the worst rap songs ever called “Phoenix.” It may have been stylized like PHOEN1X or some shit, but the point stands. From a purely comedic standpoint, I would have more fun there than I’m having here. Fresh - This isn’t even catchy? It sounds like a skipping record. Who is this for? Why is this happening? Where am I? Who are you? Around the World - Fuck You. Reminds me of a Zamboni driving around in an empty university hockey rink. Maybe because that’s when I’ve heard this song the most. Is this even danceable? Electronica for shut-ins. Rollin’ & Scratchin’ - errrm this describes me @ my eyes. Get it?? I’m disinterested AND tired. This is probably the best song to be fair. At least there is some grit. Take “best song” very lightly. It wore out its welcome in three minutes, but went 7! Teachers - Will this be a meaningful ballad about how our educators are underpaid and under appreciated? Oh. No, it’s another keyboard preset. I should’ve guessed that. You got me again, robots. High Fidelity - Holy HELL this sucks. Cut 3-5 minutes off of every song. Rock’n Roll - A new styling of rock and/or roll. Ooh. Terrible clapping sound effects. You spoil me. This one is actually so annoying I want to scream. I can’t skip anything, and I feel like I’m in a straitjacket. Why is it 7 minutes? Ce chanson est tres, tres mal. One of the worst things I’ve ever heard. Oh Yeah - Oh No. Burnin’ - AHHHHH. What are we listening to? A slide whistle sample over a generic beat. They’re making fun of you. Can you not see that? What if we produce the dumbest, easiest music ever made? I mean hey, beats working. Now they’re multi millionaires. Capitalism provides us so much value. Indo Silver Club - Maybe I can formulate a silver bullet and perch atop the grassy knoll. We’ll never have to hear Around the World again. Can you imagine such an enlightened future? Alive - Oh good they’re back from the dead! The silver bullet wasn’t enough. They truly are immortal. Funk Ad - The merciful end. The silence is ringing in my ears. NO DONT AUTOPLAY. As I was saying, the silence is beautiful. Nothing is repeating now. I can’t get over how uninteresting this was. It’s a barebones drum machine. There is very little variety in sound. It’s what plays before the concert. It’s air. They have fleeced an entire generation of music listeners. Those are my sentence fragments that break out for when I’m really annoyed. This album sounds like kids who have just discovered a free beat maker, goofing off in high school. Add the confidence to actually release those horrible sounds, and add vast critical acclaim (for some reason) and you have Homework. An album as depressing and infantile as its namesake. Maybe some cosmic dog can eat it out of existence. In the absence of cosmic dog(s), I will attempt to scrub this from my mind with good music over the ensuing hours. 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Well you see, there was that one song that went UNCE UNCE UNCE UNCE, but then there was that OTHER song that went UNCE *clap* UNCE *clap.* hmm so many options. Oh darn, we’re out of time!

Huh? What’s that? The Beagles? The Beatles?? Again? No, the Kegels? Feminist punk? The Smeagols? More lord of the rings music? That might be cool. No? Ohhhh the Eagles. NOOOOO. Can we invent and listen to a band called the Kegels instead? That was my impression of the hearing capabilities of the average listener of this band. They remember the JFK assassination, but not their email password. Check me into the Hotel California. I pray there are hourly rates. Take It Easy - Heard a million times. Could’ve sang it to you before this review. Not once have I said “let’s play some Take It Easy.” I hate that about pop music. Listen, if I hadn’t heard it a million times against my will, I’d be pleasantly surprised. Capable vocals, nice little melody. This is nowhere near the bottom of the chasm of overplayed songs that live in my head. Witchy Woman - Santana called, he said, “hey can I feature on a song soon, Rob Thomas isn’t paying out like he used to.” This song is two things, cheesy, and actually pretty good. Dammit. Chug All Night - opening riff is good but oh man this chorus. We could chug all night, we could hug all night. You know what? I criticize how crudely people talk about sex these days, huggin’ and chuggin’ sounds downright adorable. This song sucks, but kudos to the boys here for being folksy as all get out. Well done fellas. Most of Us are Sad - The Eagles: Original Millennial Humour pioneers. Errrrrm yeah my depression is the original pioneer of me errrr getting nothing done. Does Gen Z care about that more? Listen. Comparing generations is just as much of a comedy trope as anything these days. If you see it on short form content, it’s probably dead. Speaking of dead, this song is kind of lifeless. I like the guitar that is drenched in reverb. This song feels like a throwback, even for the time. Nightingale - A fun classic rock song. Cool melody with a punch that is working for me. Train Leaves Here This Morning - A less fun classic rock song. This track was quite repetitive and made me cognizant of the seconds passing. Take the Devil - Oh god are we letting the drummer sing? I kind of liked the shabby singing. More gritty. Earlybird - I wasn’t ready. Let me get my Merlin app brewed up. Yup. That’s the Earlybird. OR possibly the red breasted nuthatch. Decent track once again. I’m still waiting to hate this and at this point? I don’t think I will. Peaceful Easy Feeling - The song title pretty much describes the song. Judge this book by its cover. Kind of dull, but not bad at all. A lovely little rock based piece of music. Tryin’ - Well, after the Chuggin’ and the huggin’ where else can a boy who uses apostrophes to end words go? Maybe this was a self-deprecating statement. Well guys. This album didn’t turn out, but we should keep on tryin’. Chin up lads. This wasn’t bad at all. Colour me shocked. I don’t know what colour that would be but uhh. Actually. Scrap the whole thing. Painting yourself colours is just asking for trouble. Between the potential cultural snafus and the paint loaded with lead, I’m going to steer clear. Where was I? The Smeagols delivered what is an album that has completely changed my life. Their interpretation of acid jazz through field recordings whilst initiating the journey to Mordor taught me that it’s ok to laugh again. It’s ok to cry, and hey, it’s ok to cry laughing. Purge yourself of worldly possessions and get into the world of interpreting warbler calls as twelve minute saxophone solos. The Eagles were pretty ok too. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Take it Easy, Nightingale, Take the Devil

You can’t do this to me. Oh wait, that’s literally the whole idea of this. I am sitting in an airport, trying to reach the promised land of the maritimes, and my accompanying soundtrack? Bruce fucking Springsteen. The worst “artist” to ever hire somebody to put pen to paper. Let’s see what tripe that the cosplay prophet of the working man has cooked up this week. I’m sure it’ll be a nonstop thrill ride. Badlands - If I wasn’t on the verge of tears, I’d be crying laughing. I can’t even figure out how to make fun of him. This singing is horrible. When I say horrible, I mean truly atrocious. Imagine the worst singer you’ve ever heard, and imagine that everybody else says they’re really good. You get gaslit into the loony bin. This song needs to be institutionalized and kept away from polite society. From the awful vocals, to the disgustingly bad horns, to the 4 minute song length that seemed like 10; this is yet another Springsteen disasterclass. Adam Raised a Cain - Whoa. A decent opening? That can’t be right. Just wait until the vocals come in. There we go. Back down to earth in a pile of smouldering rubble. The guitar tone on the solo is good here. Would be excellent behind anybody else. The riff itself is bad. Shocking. Something in the Night - He got you. He got all of you. You think a competent, serious singer leaves these first notes in the final mix? It’s not bad in a charming way. It literally couldn’t be worse. I am in hell. Candy’s Room - Oh good. This shouldn’t be creepy. UHHH HUH HUH HUH HUH HUH. This is like if Butthead (of Beavis & Butthead fame) wasn’t funny and was also a pedophile. Racing in the Street - BOOOOOOOO. WEEEEEELLLL I’ve got an 08 civic without power locks and I’m sitting in front of Irving. I’ve got a 79 cent polar pop and I’m headed to Pleasant Street. Hey Bruce, if giving up living would’ve prevented you from releasing this song, I’d fund a mission to go back in time and save us all from this. This song is the perfect sound track to listen to while you fill a burlap sack with rotting fruit. Start pelting the Sopranos guy, and Bruce shall fall. My mouth is agape. I can’t believe how bad this song is. Has anybody else heard this? Who is this for? Harley Davidson guys? That earth shattering metronome breakdown at about 5:30 (!!) is really skyrocketing this song to the moon. The Promised Land - More dumbass car lyrics. “Well my car’s got an engine and I think about the exhaust pipe in a sexual fashion.” That rhymes right? “I took my daddy’s car and I pretend to be a rebel, but I’ll have it back by 9, I’m really on the level.” Man. The poet of the streets. Imagine the lyrics I wrote followed by a harmonica riff (emphasis on harm) and a honky took saxophone solo. If that’s what you like, firstly, get a CAT scan, and secondly, this may really be your “promised land.” Factory - Cut right to the point. Oooohhhh I’m pretending to be blue collar so I can sell records to you braindead hicks oooohhhh. I’ve definitely heard of a factory ohohohoho. If he really is blue collar, there is no hint of emotion to tell me that this comes from a real place. This is textbook pandering to the people who defend billionaires online in 2025. Streets of Fire - Purify my ear canals in fire. JESUS CHRIST. What the hell is this caterwauling? Over what? Where was this passion in the “oh my daddy walks to work in the rain… just like you! And you can be a working class hero too if you buy my LP, in stores this June!” Prove It All Night - Two songs to go. I can do this. We’re working hard with dirty hands and driving dusty roads. Driving Dusty Rhodes would be cooler. It’s the American dream baby talking to ya from the backseat of my limo. You wanna talk about hard times, daddy, hard times is when you listen to U2 and Bruce Springsteen in the same week. Hard times, is when you’re sitting in an airport terminal and the desk agent says “sorry you missed your flight” because you couldn’t hear last call over the strains of the worst singer to ever exist. THAT’S hard times. Now take me to the super dome baby. I’ve got a show to main event. Darkness On the Edge of Town - Man. Between the streets of fire and the darkness on the edge of town, where will Bruce drive his Dad’s ‘74 Pinto or whatever? This is an album that perfectly encapsulates failure. Every attempt to be relatable was dead on arrival. Every car reference was as see through and dimwitted as the next. Every desperate grasp to paint himself as a cool, adult high schooler, failed. The only thing this album does successfully in my eyes, is capture what “cool” is to the most average, nothing happening people on planet earth and distill it into a nauseating slab of garbage that is for sale to every car company and convenience store in the world’s worst country. I hate this. I hate Bruce Springsteen. Music for people with sub 90 IQs who smell like gasoline. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Hatred

Score. Simon (Pronounced as if he’s from northern Québec) and Garfield’s uncle himself, Big Art. I’m excited about this. I always enjoy the output of this musical duo. Expect the words “lush” and “beautiful” to appear en masse. For my birthday in 8 months, I would like a thesaurus. Don’t pester me about this internet. I can barely use the internet at this point without having to wrestle with the question “did a robot produce this on behalf of a corporation to sell me something at great expense to real nature?” The answer to that is almost always, yes. Anyway. Harken me back to a simpler time. When men were sensitive songwriters, and the only intelligence that was artificial was that of an in over his head scientist. Bookends Theme - Meh. Save the Life of my Child - This is pretty dense musically. Dense in the way a forest is dense, not the skull of a boy wearing the dunce cap. Echoey, lush, and not what I expected. Beautiful vocals underneath a strange, psychedelic musical output. Very cool. America - This is the lyrical and songwriting content I come for. Cigarettes in raincoats sung as softly as anything possibly could. I don’t know what culture it’s conveying, but damn if it doesn’t speak to me. I yearn for the ethical coffee shops. As ethical as it can be to ship a tropically grown bean from the tropics, to frigid Canada. Only for me to complain about the price. Overs - That falsetto interjection is incredibly beautiful. I’m sure “beautiful” is one of those words that this site keys in on for this album review. Fantastic set of songs so far, and this may be the the king up to this point. Voices of Old People - As much as I would like for underprivileged/underrepresented groups to have more of a say, I feel like society is still run by people this age. If it gives you any comfort, i believe all of these people are dead. That’s just kind sad. Anyway. Out of the retirement home and into the uhh fire. Poor choice of phrase. Old Friends - He said bookends! Huge news for fans of album titles everywhere. This song was ok. Bookends Theme Reprise - Meh Part Deux Fakin’ It - Never would I expect these two upstanding gentlemen to use a conjunction!! At least it’s an impression of being folksy and relatable. This is not as much what I want from a duo like Simon & Garfunkel. More bombast and electricity than I appreciate from these two. Sing more about old men and park benches. That’s your wheelhouse. Punky’s Dilemma - See? “I wish I was cereal.”That’s where you guys need to be. Even though in this day and age, I’d point at product placement, this just shows the effortless songwriting ability of this duo. Write a song that is as listenable and enjoyable as this whilst being about waking up a sentient breakfast. The magic of the 60’s. Mrs. Robinson (From the Motion Picture “The Graduate”) - The smash hit. For real this time. It is so pretty and is a rare deserving member of the hit parade Hall of fame. You know what I mean. If a song lingers in the cultural zeitgeist, it’s a rare thing that it is this level of quality. A special song. Saying Joe DiMaggio will always be funny to me, but a nation turning its lonely eyes to him? A symbol of a nation building an identity and outgrowing it, despite a desire for the nostalgic comforts of a seemingly simpler past? It still rings loud and clear today. A Hazy Shade of Winter - Whoa this brings the energy WAY up. I typically like when this band stays in their calm beauty, but this felt urgent and the right time to come alive. Hell yeah. At the Zoo - Ooh I want to see the hippos. I don’t care about the political affiliations of the zebras. I’d think with their mixed race, they would be far more moderate and less reactionary. Boy do I have egg on my face. This album was so very interesting. It wasn’t what I expected for the most part and deked me out at every corner. From the harder rocking moments to the lyrical content, all the way to the prog leanings of the first track. Simon and Garfunkel continue to cement their legacy as one of my favourite folk pop duos and really one of my favourite mainstream acts of all time. A great way to spend some time. Transported to New York in the formerly brisk winters that they once experienced. But st least a robot can tell me my 7/11 order with 48% accuracy. That sure beats having seasons. Great job fellas. 4 HIGHLIGHTS - Save the Life of My Child, America, Overs, Mrs. Robinson (From the Motion Picture “The Graduate”)

Yes. Another opening paragraph about an artist that I don’t know anything about. I could drag this into some political conversation, although I really don’t feel energetic or intellectually equipped enough to take that on, this fine ‘moro. Can “morning” be stylized in that fashion? Oh wait, I don’t care. Anyway, here’s Emmylou Harris. A leading candidate for a stage name, and perhaps album of the year? Only time will tell. Take it away. Bluebird Wine - Oh god, she’s killing bluebirds and drinking their bones?? This won’t stand. This sounds like it could be country. What a nice voice. Good for her. Although, if we are disclosing fully, this song sounds like it influenced a bunch of 90’s country and therefore, sucks. I’m tired of the revisionist history that the 90’s was an artistically viable time for country. Anyway. This is from the 70’s. Song isn’t for me. Too Far Gone - Boring. Trite. Pedantic. Shallow. Real critic hours. Pay me my 8 cents per “article.” I’m a WRITER dammit. If I Could Only Win Your Love - This was pretty, albeit a little fluffy. I can’t remember it Boulder to Birmingham - Errrm what are you going to do to Abraham? Leave his bosom alone. He’s just a dad who killed his son because he “heard god.” Good guy. Religion is great. This is just another floater. People on the internet LOVE it. Whatever. The ones who aren’t robots are dorks. Before Believing - I am so depressed. Between June and the nothing happening country. Somebody needs to scrape me off the floor. Bottle Let Me Down - The bottle always lets me down. I guarantee it would make this harder to get through. Also, I don’t think I’ll need to worry about remembering this album anyway. That’s a little preview of the final review. This is another song in a long series of songs. Sleepless Nights - Were you also travelling overnight in the middle seat of increasingly smaller planes as we devolve further into hellscaoe capitalism that I can’t see any way out of except the mass deaths and displacement of most people? We continually march towards our own destruction. Anyway, this is another boring song that I’ll forget before it’s over. Coat of Many Colours - I’m ashamed to say but the following thought comes from John Q. RYM reviewer. You can’t cover this personal a song. It just sounds lame. More going through the motions. For No One - This album is “for everyone” which is why it’s so yawn inducing. Queen of the Silver Dollar - Hey, it’s another song. That’s great, everybody. Congratulations on the new song. A coat of one colour. Puke green. Listen, Chris Van Vliet just posted an interview with one of my heroes, Gene Fuckin’ Snitsky, so you can bet your bottom dollar that my next hour (plus DoorDash ads) is spoken for. An oasis in the eternal desert of generic country music. I don’t care about this album. It sucks. It’s not worth analyzing past that. Enjoy your slop. I’ll be watching a retrospective of the baby punt heard round the world with an ear to ear grin. IT WASN’T MY FAULT. 1-1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Dolly Parton without any of the charm, uniqueness, songwriting, likability etc.

Isn’t this a Nine Inch Nails song? OR will it be an album about being a closing pitcher for the Hartford Yard Goats? That’s a cause we can all get behind. Listen, this isn’t the album where everyone has that t shirt, but I imagine this will be vaguely punk-y new wave. The air is clogged with smoke. The apocalypse or at least the swift conclusion of my known way of life feels to be at its end. Let’s give that a soundtrack. Atrocity Exhibition - What a cool start. The rattling bass is electrifying. The song itself is pretty sweet, but these vocals have something off about them. Not enough passion. Not a bad start though. Very interesting at least. Isolation - Ah. I’ve figured out the critical acclaim. The singer killed himself. Bingo. Death is art to these freaks. Look, the vocals are bad. They are. However, these song itself? Fantastic. The lyrics? Cool. This is shaping up to be a good one, but can we drop the depression fetish as a society? Pretty please? Passover - Again, we have a cool song with these weird vocals. I LIVE for weird vocals, but I like when they have some power or vitriol laced into them. This just feels listless. Colony - Leave it to the English band to write a song called “Colony.” Lyrics are once again very good, but the song finally lags behind here. The bass is almost too loud and these vocals man. What are you people on? Can I have some? A Means to an End - This is so dull. Repetitive and boring. A huge miss, which is surprising considering the lack of swing. Strike 3 taken, right down the middle, he’s gonna want that one back. Heart and Soul - The lyrics continue to impress despite being delivered in a white panel van that is being pushed by the band mates. This is a chilly song that harkens me back to winter. The instruments even imitate the howling wind. Oh, winter? Yeah it was one of these things we used to have called “A season” where the weather would change. In the winter, cold white water flew down from the sky and it felt like your fridge outside. Oh right. Sorry, your Amazon™️ food chiller. Twenty Four Hours - Now, I don’t believe mental illness automatically makes a person interesting. In fact, it’s usually quite the opposite, but when you are able to get glimpses into how one is battling with difficult circumstances beyond their control, it’s a deeply human relation point. This song is all lyrics, but the music fits. The little warbles and breaks in the vocals really add what has been missing so far. The Eternal - Too long. I mean it’s fine, but nothing earth shattering for me. Decades - Kermit the Frog sings about the horrors of being alive. That about sums this album up really. I can’t say I hate that either. This album will either grow way worse or way better with time, but the very fact that I am already thinking about listening to it again, is about as glowing a review I can imagine. There were pockets of boredom, and I wanted more from the vocalist, but what I got wasn’t too shabby and piqued my interest to the point where I am satisfied. To have any sort of interest piqued means it was a good day with the 1001. On to the next. If the world is still here tomorrow. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Isolation, Twenty Four Hours

Uhhhh Beach Boys? Are you ok? I just borrowed my dad’s Cadillac and Topher is meeting us at the beach with his dune buggy. We’re going to catch some waves and smile at the girls. Why did you bring this painting of a slain man atop his weary steed? You’re totally harshing my buzz. I, like the narrator of the initial exchange in my paragraph, always believed the beach boys to be slop, produced for rabid consumption by the lowest common denominator. I have learned much since then, and enjoy many of the beautiful melodies and harrowing oddity that this group produced on albums that will assuredly appear later on, like “Pet Sounds” and “Smiley Smile.” I was unaware this album even existed. Time to keep learning. And toph, pass that wacky tobacky, I want to think about the last heroes of Atlantis. Don’t Go Near The Water - Nice. Sweet melody with a strange, ominous message. This rules. Long Promised Road - This is like whiplash. From the beautiful, haunting atmosphere of the previous track, I am thrown head first into a dive bar where a local trio is covering “The Band.” We are able to gain some interest about halfway through, but this one isn’t as much for me. Take a Load Off Your Feet - An ode to podiatry. Ehh. I don’t care about this. Odd, but in a childish, unlikeable way. I like the soundscapes here though. The vocal effects are cool and the sounds that get inserted here and there are wonderful. Just a shame it’s on a song about taking care of your feet. Disney Girls (1957) - Was this written in 1957, or an ode to the Disney Girls of 1957? Oh boy. This is pretty cringeworthy. What does this even have to do with Disney. I think Disney might feel this was laying it on a little thick with the tootsie rolls, swellness and *shudder* Cape Cod. Student Demonstration Time - Hey guys. Gather round for a student demonstration. They’ll either be protesting America’s war crimes in Vietnam OR demoing their baking soda volcano. Either way, it’s a can’t miss event. Oh sweet lord. No white guy blues. This is a parody of a parody of Revolution. Also, this is gross. Hey guys, don’t protest because the government might kill you. Maybe criticize the government killing its citizens? Feel Flows - Alright. That was a slump. It seems like we’re back on a reasonable track now. Flutes soaring over an ok track. This is nothing to write home about, but at least the pen is back in the inkwell. Lookin’ at Tomorrow (A Welfare Song) - Besides the Jack Black a capella segment, this was pretty forgettable. It’s nice enough, but that’s about it. A Day in the Life of a Tree - You know this is very similar to the foot song. It’s cooler than that, but it’s just kind of beyond me. Or beneath me. Whatever my humble readership may determine. How about this; I think it’s just ok. ‘Til I Die - My phone tried to correct “‘til” to “TIL” which I believe is Reddit for “Today I Learned.” I truly wasn’t made for these times. This song was ok. Surf’s Up - What an insane pop adjacent song. I can’t believe that the group that brought you “Surfin’ Safari” is doing this, less than a decade later. This ain’t just drugs folks. Walk around any downtown of any city now. Lots of people do drugs. Not too many people are producing things like this. Interesting, beautiful, and ultimately surprising. Shadows dance across the blackened sea under a moonless sky. Are they there or an imagined whimsy in place of the inhospitable emptiness. The shape of a rider takes form, limping over the horizon. Waves crash at the feet of the besieged horse carrying the aquatic spectre. They collapse into the sea in a flash of light that leaves tremors rippling beneath you. At your feet a harpoon washes ashore, in the distance, a bloodcurdling scream. Mom? Can you come pick me up? These Beach Boys are weird. Uhh yeah this album was pretty cool. An easy listen for the most part with some minor stinkers to endure along the way. This is an above average release that continues to alter my perception of the Beach Boys and pop music in general. Rock on, Dead Sea horse man. May you liberate the souls of the sea bound. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Don’t Go Near The Water, Surf’s Up

I have tried to listen to this album before. I had somehow heard the title track and believed it was one of the best songs I’d heard in a very long time. It helped open my eyes to a lot of the indie/alternative from this era. Now, when I listened to the album I was disappointed, as at the time, nothing was even close to the tale of Yoshimi. Today is about second chances. Music is better as you listen to it more, right? Fight Test - Yeah, see what was I on? This song is wonderful. Yeah, it’s sugary, but the harmonies and melodies are wonderful, the alien gleebs and glorbs are a lot of fun. Sweet opener. One More Robot / Sympathy 3000-21 - This wasn’t too bad. Spacey and cool enough. Not blowing my mind or anything but continues to move the story. Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Pt. 1 - This song is just so good. The lyrics are ridiculous and when you mix them with this low-if/sci-fi nonsense rhythm? You’ve got yourself a major tune. Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Pt. 2 - The sequel is never as good. Robot battleground solo. The composition is very interesting to be fair. In the Morning of Magicians - Gooood morning everyone and welcome to Magician radio. I am your host Big Merl, and it’s now time to relax and pull out your favourite false shuffle technique, as we allow the flaming lips to transport us to a time where magicians weren’t just confident nerds, but were actual mystical weirdos. At 9, we discuss the ethics of rabbits in top hats. Stay with us. Hey, this song isn’t too bad. It’s keeping me enthralled. Ego Tripping at the Gates of Hell - What a song title. No I’M the most evil. I can’t believe you let that guy in but not me. Didn’t you see how I coveted my neighbours goods? I’m a million times worse than that guy. He donated his time to a charity and didn’t even post on social media. Me? I board planes before my zone is called. Alright alright, not so hard with the pitchforks. Aaaaand scene. This is probably the worst song so far. Shame it couldn’t live up to the song title. Are You a Hypnotist?? - Is anybody on this plane able to hypnotize people? I REALLY want to pretend I’m Abraham Lincoln but my damn inhibitions prevent me from hilly committing!! Please!! My childlike whimsy has been locked behind this gate of repression for decades. Ehh this song is kind of boring too. See this is what I was afraid of. The boredom. It’s Summertime - The worst time of the year gets longer each year. Why couldn’t it be global cooling? People would’ve fixed it by now because all the freaks intent on destroying the planet HATES the cold. God another song I don’t really care about. Whatever. Do You Realize?? - What happened to the robots?? What happened to Yoshimi?? This is fine. Actually, better than fine. It’s pretty good. It feels like a minor return to form, but I’m still missing the whimsy of the beginning of the album. All We Have is Now - Is this the Buggles? The cool start devolved into a repetitive nothing track. I’m really disappointed. Despondent, even. I didn’t remember that it was the back half of the album that housed the stench. Approaching Pavonis Mons by Balloon (Utopia Planitia) - Cool instrumental closer. You know that meme where there is a beautifully drawn front half of a horse, with a crude, childlike drawing of the rear? This album is like that. I hate that I’m talking or even thinking in memes, but the end comes for us all. This should have been an EP. You put those first five tracks on an EP and then condemn the final tracks to some digital recycle bin, and you have an artistic victory. The final tracks weren’t all bad, but they lacked so much of the sparkle and punch of the opening songs. A spaceship where they forgot to add aerodynamics, “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots” could’ve shed about 25 minutes of weight. Not quite a challenger disaster, but certainly a challenge to get all the way through near the end. Some of the most interesting tracks of the early 2000s save this from the cursed scourge of receiving a low rating from me. The Flaming Lips can wipe sweat from their proverbial brow after dodging that bullet. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Fight Test, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Pt. 1

I’ve never heard of this. It feels like I’m looking at an album from an alternate timeline. Yes indeed, it’s Solomon Burke who is rising up the charts here faster than a speeding bullet. Move on over Patti Dervitz and Patches Muldoon, it’s Burke’s time to shine. The only differences between our universe and that one are the music and of course, the ruling of the gargantuan wart hogs that have humanity under their cosmic spells. Throw on your gas mask, we’re transcending universes. Cry to Me - This was the music Frank Zappa was poking fun at on the Mothers of Invention album. I miss that album. Nah, this is fine. He has a nice voice. The vocal freak outs are pretty great. Unwillingly dragged me into the song. Just Out of Reach (Of My Two Empty Arms) - Speaking of unwilling?? Running from me?? Chains?? This would go pretty hard as a soundtrack introducing the villain of some stalker movie/show. I’m available for hire Hollywood, or Nollywood if I am truly blessed. Goodbye Baby (Baby Goodbye) - These are simple songs. They’re nice though. Good ol’ Solomon is putting the emphasis on SOUL in the horrific amalgamation of words “Rock N’ Soul.” The lyrics remain dumb, but the performance here is great. Like, this song is about going to your girlfriend’s party, TOUCHING (??) her one more time and then dumping her, because, and I quote, “I fed you candy, and you fed me dirt.” Still a banger (banger it was). If You Need Me - The boredom has returned. Nothing to write home about here. Can’t Nobody Love You - Oh my word. Don’t say little girl after all of this. Whoa he’s beefing with every singer of every love song ever. Yeah. Fuck you Ray Charles. Great singer. Some of the most questionable lyrics thus far. Someone to Love Me - This is like an engine that won’t turn over. I found I found I found listen huh I found some listen uhh yeah I uhhh. What was I talking about? You’re Good For Me - NOOOOO. If there is a phrase I never need to hear again, it’s “You’re a bad little girl.” Tragic. One of the worst ones here. Won’t You Give Him (One More Chance) - the backup singers have laid down the gauntlet. One more chance. That’s ALL he needs. He won’t say “little girl” again he swears. Hard, Ain’t it Hard - I just uhh don’t care about this. You Can’t Love ‘Em All - I wonder if this is the same street Nate Dogg referenced in seminal G-Funk epic “Regulate.” This mythical street where groups of women wish to fraternize with every singer to ever release music. Imagine a woman singing this song. Conservatives would get mad, even today. But ol Solomon? Go ahead and love them all you little scamp. Beautiful Brown Eyes - What does Ol’ Joey have to do with this. Joe, pour me another one, listen there was this girl “Did ya love her Solomon.” DONT TALK, JOEY. HOW MANY TIME DO I HAVE TO SAY, THIS IS THE SOLOMON SHOW. Now, this girl, what a girl, she had eyes. The colour? Brown. Isn’t that incredible, Joey? I’d like to raise a glass to my friend Ol’ Joey, and that girl with the normal eye colour and no other discernible features. Wherever she may be. “Can I stop holding this drink now Mr. Burke?” *Glass breaking noises* He’ll Have to Go - Yes, he will. Normally I love a good tearful ballad hating on some cheating scum, but this is a boring closer. This is the kind of album that peaks EARLY. See the highlights for reference. Where there is energy and life for a couple singles, these albums do not deviate off of the theme of obsessive love to the point where it’s so unappealing. It may be induce some eye-rolling but modern courtship and relationships have evolved leagues and eons past whatever is going on here. I found a lot of the pining to be unlikeable and manipulative, and a man can only take so much. Leave this in the alternate warthog dimension. In our quest to consume the succulent meat of the porcine overlords of the other galaxies, we will have to bring some ear plugs. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Cry to Me, Goodbye Baby (Baby Goodbye)

Yo yo yo it’s the big music hater Supremo here for another music hating session based entirely off of a first listen in which improbably over analyze everything tot he point that nothing is enjoyable. In response to that, explain the 5 star albums. Huh? You CAN’T, because my music reviewing is infallible. Alright. Big sigh. Got that all out the way. Now it’s time for cool hip drug man, big Louie Reed in his first appearance of what I can only assume is many entities on this list. I’m surprised it’s not entirely Lou Reed. I’m excited for this. The guy has an aura about him, and is of course a romanticized mental illness case. He at least gets some flack because he didn’t die young. Small victories. Anyway. This intro is too long. Kick off your shoes, stay awhile, and lend an ear to the musical stylings of Mr. Reed. Hopefully some interest is gained on that loan. Vicious - Did not expect this to be so uhh normal? I guess? I like it! Wow. Shocking. It’s a little odd and those famous “literary” lyrics like “I’ll step on your hands and mangle your feet,” never hit as hard as internet nerds think. Although, did he call himself a “gay blade?” Amazing takedown of BeyBlades if you’re a high school boy in 2002. Andy’s Chest - More hands and feet crossover lyrics. Fuck it, I’m on board. Get me a Lou Reed poster and some opiates. I’m invested. Perfect Day - Famous song time. For some reason I’ve only ever heard this song performed featuring a big opera singer. It was pretty funny. This is such an interesting song. It’s like a radio ballad crooned by a deeply troubled street performer. I think I love it, but I’m not fully sure I don’t hate it. That’s music, baby. Hangin’ Round - Makes me want to hang around (die in an extension cord accident). Walk on the Wild Side - Can I Kick it? No? You want me to sit and listen to stories about people from the the east village in New York? Well, actually, that’s pretty fun. This is a respite after the last song. Very cool jazz instrumentals. I love that bass. Fun track. I don’t know about the reference to “coloured girls.” Make Up - Is this a TUBA??? Fuckin rights. “Little girl” mentioned. Tuba is a win. Little girl is a loss. This is an odd song. I like the oddity, but something is missing. It’s probably that refrain. Satellite of Love - Even on the songs where I don’t enjoy the main thrust, there are so many interesting sounds. The moaning background vocals and the snaps near the end take a fairly bad song and make it tolerable. Wagon Wheel - I hate Darius Rucker, I hate Darius Rucker, I hate Darius Rucker. For that song to immediately enter my head when I see these words, AND because he refuses to be known as Hootie sans Blowfish. I also hate this song, but not as bad as old Darius. Trust me. If you grow up in a fake western wannabe saloon town as I did, you grow to hate pop country more than most. New York Telephone Conversation - Me and my dad used to listen to this song and laugh. Of course this was well before I understood any sort of mental health challenges or drug use. Listening now, all I can think is “what does this conversation have to do with New York.” Let me rewrite this puppy. *phone ringing* YEAH JIMMY’S PIZZA. I CANT DELIVER A SLICE WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS. GET OUTTA HERE *phone slams.* I’m So Free - Man, is this ever a let down. This shouldn’t have been included. This is like walking on the wild side. Goodnight Ladies - This is the Val Venis closer. He says hello, he says goodnight. Although, considering the lack of comma, I think these are the “Goodnight Ladies.” A team of ultra secretive assassins. A very silly vaudeville style closer that overstays its welcome. Shame. New Yahk baby. They had some good shit back then. By good shit, I mean STRONG heroin. I believe Lou was partaking in some of that, but I can’t tell you that for sure. I wasn’t to be born for another couple of decades. By the time I was around, Times Square was a parody of itself in the heady early 70’s. This album was interesting throughout, and TRANSFORMED my preconceptions about Lou Reed into an entirely different view. I’m surprised how not pretentious this was. Artistic music that doesn’t repeatedly slap you in the face with its intended depth. This album lets the writing do the talking. Very refreshing experience. The lyrics did end up being great and whilst bizarre, peppered the strange tracks with musings about sexuality, gender issues, mental illness and drug use. With the lyrical themes and the album title, I’d like to wish all the weird, bigoted internet dudes with sunglasses profile pictures a happy pride month. May your wives never find your Grindr account. And Lou? This thing was pretty rad. Thanks pal. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Andy’s Chest, Perfect Day, Walk on the Wild Side

Two days in a row with trans in the title?? It truly is pride month. Hell yeah. On a down note, I believe this is going to be extended techno for like an hour and NOT a train themed romp through the triumph and tragedy that was the 2019 Kraft Dinner Twerkathon in Waterloo. Loonies were spilled, backs were thrown out, and the cheese dust is still being vacuumed out of that church basement to this day. Instead it’s probably just German electro music. Oh well. Surprise me. Please. Europe Endless - The first song is just shy of ten minutes. Oh joy, oh bliss. I don’t know what to tell you here. This is a monotonous video game soundtrack from 1980. Three years ahead of your time. Congrats. Don’t forget! There’s also a guy saying “Europe Endless” over the top of it. That’s good. Pause. Settings. Audio. Soundtrack volume. 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 OFF. Ahhhh that’s better. Now I can enjoy this space motorcycle racing game from 1983. The Hall of Mirrors - Oh my god I forgot I was listening to this. Uhhh. This is actually way cooler. Dark, weird, and all around more intriguing. Verrrry German. Of course the one two minute idea is stretched over 8 (Europe) endless minutes, but that feels like par for the course here. Showroom Dummies - Uh yeah I’m in the market for an upsetting puppet? Something I can easily conceal at the border, but with a face that says “I will kill you if you don’t eat vegetables.” I have a school tour starting tomorrow. Oh my word this song is terrible. The repetition is nauseating. Trans-Europe Express - Whoa some French. This really is about going across Europe. I doubt we’re going to get Latvian in here, but this was during the Cold War. Did the sides even acknowledge eachother? I don’t care. This is another bad song repeated ad nauseum. Or “ad museum” as my lovely autocorrect believes I meant to write. Metal on Metal - Yeah this is what I would want from an album like this. Literally as industrial as it gets. Deep, ominous, and thankfully just over two minutes. Abzug - We are so back. Back where this musical voyage so often leaves me, in the doldrums of misery. Why is this the same song again. We loved Trans-Europe Express that much? Apparently this translates to “Deduction” in English. I will make a deduction right now. This music is overrated. Franz Schubert - I am so happy to be out of that loop that this is the greatest song I’ve ever heard. 10 stars. No, of course this also one 10 note lick played on repeat. It’s actually more than likely looped. Played once and then repeated. Endless Endless - You’re telling me! Yeah the transition was kind of cool, but this again the same bad “riff” from the last song with some vocals. Well it wasn’t as long as Daft Punk but my god I feel irritated. Strangely itchy. I’m sorry, but this is worthless. I’m sure at the time, if you were a North American kid used to warm radio rock, this would’ve hit like an arctic blast from the eastern bloc, but come on. This isn’t worth sitting and listening to. This isn’t for dancing, this isn’t for listening intently. Is it supposed to induce a trance? No it’s too annoying for that. I am baffled. If you’re a fan of this, I’m sure you’ll say it’s “beyond me” but I beg you to reconsider that take. If this provided some variety, it would probably be a really nice piece of art, but as it stands, Trans Europe Express is about 7 minutes of chilly, post Industrial Revolution, pre Industrial (music) Revolution stretched out interminably. For future reference, avoid the Guantanamo cut. 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS - Metal on Metal

Look at that owl. He’s cool. Think about truckin’. That’s cool. This picture would probably live in my mind as the embodiment of mysterious coolness when I was like 6. It occurs to me like a forgotten memory of a picture book that I can’t quite place. And hey it came out when I was about that age. Go figure. Alert. I have HORRIBLE news for you, my loyal reader. This album is NINETY THREE MINUTES LONG. Ugh. Fire up that rig, hoss. We got a long haul in front of us. Days of Graduation - They graduate in the south? I kid. I think all of America sucks. I don’t discriminate based on region. Uhh what are we doing? Oh yeah. This is going to be like nu-metal country isn’t it? This is interesting so far actually. The harrowing car accident recollection narrated by Dale Gribble. Fun start. Ronnie and Neil - Ehh I hate these lyrics and this sounds like Kid Rock. That’s NOT good. Neil Young wasn’t talking about every person in a region. It’s so weird how people get so granular. “Man, they probably shouldn’t have killed people at a church because they were black. It’s also weird that this only happens in this one area with any frequency” “HEY THAT WASNT EVERYBODY, MY MEEMAW DOESNT HATE BLACK PEOPLE.” Shuuuut up. It’s a valid criticism of your society. If you’re taking it personally, maybe you need to do some introspection. I mean these guys sound like they’re generally on the right side of things here, but that’s when the kid rock criticism can take this song the rest of the way to the dumpster. 72 (This Highway’s Mean) - Listen to “Tombstone Every Mile” by Dick Curless for a real highway song. This is lame Garth Brooks music. Potentially penned by Cur Dickless. Oh my god this is horrible. Dead, Drunk and Naked - Well two outta three ain’t bad. Oh hey Brian Adams! Didn’t know you were featured on this. Another miasmic stinker from the depths of the horse manure drop off. Guitar Man Upstairs - This is arguably the most annoying moment so far. This “outlaw” “punk” stuff grates on me. This just feels so inauthentic. Birmingham - Why do they rotate vocalists? This guy SUCKS. “Stood them Yankees down.” You are aware that the Yankees were attempting to abolish SLAVERY, right? Like why do we still glorify the civil war as a point of local pride? I love being from Canada but I don’t celebrate that fact by recalling the extinction of the Beothuk people. That’s what all these people on the internet can’t understand. You can be proud of being from a place and acknowledge that it has some horrific, shameful events in its past. More than one thing can be true. Only one thing is true about this song though. It sucks. The Southern Thing - I mean they’re trying. Literally what I just spoke about. I still think it’s reductionist to be like “hey I didn’t own slaves, so I’m a good one.” Nobody is saying you’re bad for being from Alabama. If they are, they’re just as stupid. People criticize the American south in general for its segregation, slavery and lynching. The governments down there continue to perpetuate a lot of this. I’m sure there are people who are great. It’s societal. By the way, “hate’s the only thing my truck would wanna drag,” is just such a dumb line that somehow trivializes lynching. Maybe these guys have grown, but don’t spend ten tracks talking about how Alabama is great and you’re not racist. I didn’t assume you were. Ugh. I don’t know man. Three Great Alabama Icons - More Dale Gribble narration. I prefer these segments to the songs. Although this is MORE desperate “look at me I’m NOT RACIST.” It does turn cool as it sets up Satan torturing an old racist politician in hell. Wallace - Pearl Jam cover band sings about hell being populated by an Alabama politician. Fun idea. Abysmal song. Zip City - A lot of words here. Finally a change of theme. Weird “your brother is gay” line, but hey. Oh and his love interest is 15. At least he says he’s 17 in the song. Whatever. The lyrics are a swing and a miss for me and the music? Glad you asked. It’s abhorrent. Moved - This sounds like a song from one of the bands that inevitably crop up in mockumentary series like “The Office” or “Parks and Recreation.” Some douche character always has a horrible band that sounds exactly like this. That is a trope right? Oh. The rival band in School of Rock. That’s a definite comparison. Let There be Rock - This is literally that Kid Rock Sweet Home Alabama song that is just the worst song ever. I mean this song is better than that, but root canal surgery is better than that song. Road Cases - What is this? Why are you including a song about road cases on an album that is an hour and a half long? I ask so many questions that will never receive answers. Although I’m sure if I did ask, the response would be “hey I love rock and roll and here’s the thing, nobody in my family was racist, ok? I grew up in a liberal house and I LOVE Neil Young and also I don’t support killing people because of their race and neither do my friends.” WOW it was like talking to them directly. This song was infuriatingly pointless. Women Without Whiskey - Country Mad Libs that you find half-filled in a thrift store. Plastic Flowers on the Highway - Another boring instrumental, but for whatever reason the car accident songs are quite impactful. The lyrics were quite good here. Cassie’s Brother - I can’t describe how much I hate this song. From the lame white guy funk to the repeated refrain of “OoOOoO that boy is a funky” to the horrible feature from nameless female singer C. A true lowlight. Life in the Factory - It was the summer of ‘89. Shut Up and Get On the Plane - No. throw me out with the road cases. If I have to listen to any more of you dopes I’m going to eject myself. Greenville to Baton Rouge - This album is making me road trips, roads, road cases, and a whole myriad of other rhyming word association items that I can’t be bothered to formulate. Use your imagination for a change. Angels and Fuselage - I knew it. I knew this would be like 10 minutes. Always with these bands. The meaningful closer. I grew up in some heady times, but I wasn’t like the other kids, I had a brain, I had a vision. The south is broken and beautiful just like me and you. How close am I? Everything good about this album lives on the cover and is frozen in time as a monument to what could’ve been. This does not speak to me other than to say “Not all cops,” or whatever the message is behind defending the American south in the face of legitimate accusations. I don’t need to further explain any of my feelings on dealing with national criticism. I’m tired of writing about it. I hated this. Not country enough to be country, not punk enough to be punk, not good enough to be listenable. Never again shall I suffer the injustice that is the “Southern Rock Opera.” 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Remembering I’m not from the USA.

Interestingly, this would be fairly far down the list of metal albums I’d choose to listen to, but it appears to me today like a crisp Sir Bobby B (Canadian 100 dollar bill) in the pile of steaming manure I’ve been wading through for 11 months now. Criticisms of the production and lack of bass sound already pushed aside (for now) I’m thrilled to be able to have some riffs and grit ahead of me. Step aside Kraftwerk. Outta my way Drive By Truckers. It’s time for music. At last. Blackened - One of the last great thrash songs penned by this band. The blistering opening, the driving riff during the verses and the sick breakdown near the middle make this an excellent piece of late 80s metal. I don’t always love his vocals but that opinion is coloured by what they would become rather than everything here. This song is a monster. …And Justice for All - All that clamouring for metal and I’ve forgotten how to review it. I hate even putting it on the same scale as some of the other stuff because I’d just rather listen to this much of the time. I will say this song has interesting lyrics, and some excellent moments but it’s let down by being far too long and meandering at points. Eye of the Beholder - Metallica became really really good at writing “catchy” thrash and were a big reason I, like so many others, ventured further into metal from this point. It’s a catchy track, but it’s missing some of the punch I expect. Where I am now, this song is just ok. One - I mean everybody knows this song. It’s played so well, the lyrics are still somehow relevant, as the rich march to war on the backs of modern day serfs in increasingly screen-laden armour. Thankfully it’s all in defense of uhhh well you know, there’s the uhhh hmm. Anyway. The aggression at the midpoint hits so hard and this song goes down as a “pop/metal” classic. One of those songs that sacrifices nothing and ends up receiving plaudits from the mainstream regardless. The Shortest Straw - I never noticed the Pantera-esque feel that this song has. Metallica really did have so much influence on how metal would sound to the masses for years and years. This song has a pretty sweet groove and keeps that righteous anger. Harvester of Sorrow - How does one harvest sorrow. I’ve been playing a ton of farming simulator so I am intrigued and will be attempting to sow some sorrow seeds upon my next login. Not a huge fan of this song’s plodding. Frayed Ends of Sanity - I thought the beginning was cheesy but man did this kick into gear. One of my favourite songs from this project. Very riff heavy from start to finish. Classic. To Live is to Die - I think they got really good at their instruments and wanted to show everybody. A lot of bands do that. Whilst technical playing can be fun once in a while, this instrumental “song” is a whole bunch of nothing for me. I like the talking portions near the end but this is bloat. Dyers Eve - Prepare your paints. Prepare your clothes. Hell. Prepare your finest ties. For the grateful dead enter Milwaukee tomorrow, and we the noble tie-dyers of the Midwest must tie until our fingers bleed, for it is dyers eve. That’s all I got. Listen. Pretty intense closer. Enjoyable and heavy. I’ve gotten too philosophical today. It’s metal. It’s not that complicated. If an album was new to me and sounded like this? I’d probably break my keyboard giving it five stars. Which raises questions about this whole endeavour, but I digress. This is a good album. There are meaningful lyrics aplenty, expert playing, and catchy, aggressive songs. There is also needless bloat and some pretty tinny production at times. This album does feel thin to this day. Metallica ruled the 80’s from a mainstream metal perspective and their influence is as far reaching as it gets. The end of a classic quartet of albums. Metallica didn’t go quietly into the doldrums of the 90’s, but maybe they didn’t go quite loudly enough. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Blackened, One, Frayed Ends of Sanity

Hoooooooo, good golly Ms. Errible, my writing has been terrible. Even for the meaningless writing exercise that this is. Barely understandable. The only thing my writing effectively conveys is the micro-plastic ravaged hellscape that is the brain of the modern man. Hollowed out by instant gratification and shabby products, only to lurch into gear at the promise of more of that dopamine. Online word puzzles can’t stop this degeneration. Ugh. What is it today? More albums from the 50’s? Please don’t be 20 songs that are “Oooh I love you.” We have struggled with that formula. Tutti Frutti - Yeah this lives up to the hype. It’s repetitious of course, but my word is the energy palpable. Whether it’s a sexual parody sanitized for the mainstream, or a stolen song, this performance is earth shattering. True, Fine Mama - So often you’ll find a true mama, or a fine mama, but those true, fine Mamas are one of a kind. Snap em up while you can. Maybe write them better songs. The vocals remain electrifying but this song was whatever. Can’t Believe You Wanna Leave - His screeching is so impassioned. Got to love that. This is a good song, but I just know the rest of the album is going to be just like this. The groove is superior to other acts we’ve heard though. Ready Teddy - This is Tutti Frutti. It’s the same song. Instead of ooty, we have eddy. Same song, different rhyme scheme. Hopefully he does every vowel by the time this is through. Baby - The gentler vocals mixed with the more old school blues makes this a little departure from the previous tracks. Pretty funky. Slippin’ and Slidin’ - A song about the triumphant 32 minutes you can use a slip and slide before some kid injures himself beyond repair, or the slide rips. 50 bucks well spent. I’m not talking about the studio time for this song. Long Tall Sally (The Thing) - it’s another very similar song; however It does go pretty hard. Little Richard’s vocal inflections really pop on this song. Miss Ann - We’re back in the slow blues-y rock section. We can’t have two songs in a row that are the same, but we can’t certainly alternate pairs of songs that are exactly the same. Print it! Oh Why? - Great question. I think it’s because Little Richard was already controversial enough, so why would he challenge conceptions further? Americans are not famous for their embracing of new ideas. Oh, it wasn’t asking me why every song is so similar. Rip it Up - Surprisingly subdued for a song I expected to go insane. It’s fun on its own, but as part of this album? It’s just there. Jenny Jenny - How many ladies was this young singer courting?? We’ve had everybody from Sue to Ann in this thing and now Jenny makes an appearance. This vocal delivery has to be cocaine influenced. I just read that he wasn’t on drugs at this time, but my word. She’s Got it - What’s that? Elementary school at 9:00? Little girl = skip. Well I can’t legally skip in this airtight process I’ve encased myself in like so much bubbling concrete. Nobody would ever know, but I would know, and that is the worst of all, isn’t it? Yeah this was another 50’s albums it’s amazing how the music industry has always prioritized singles over albums. I don’t see much point in listening GNILYB to this back to front. Turn on most of these songs individually and feel the fuckin’ POWER. But as an album? Talk about one-note. Little Richard is a pioneer and this has more punch than most, but the repetition makes me want to avoid repeated listens. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Tutti Frutti, Baby, Long Tall Sally (The Thing)

Hey Aquaman. That’s my favourite Methro Tull song. Well, second favourite. Right after that 38 minutes song they did about being reincarnated as a starfish but retaining your human brain through some sort of cosmic mistake. Eternally locked inside a gelatinous star in the middle of the ocean. Can’t believe that one charted! ‘94 was a hell of a year. Anyway, this album here? Never heard of it in my life. It could be anything from 80’s pop ballads, to psychedelic show tunes. Maybe some combination of both. I waited days between writing that opening missive and actually listening to this thing. Apparently I needed time to mull. Let’s get this over with. Dealer - Funkyyy OH GOD. Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcome Johnny M and the tracheostomy players. Raspy doesn’t begin to describe this vocal delivery. Say no to cigarettes, young fellas. One World - Says you. The unfortunate reality of one world, is you have to share it with guys who will imagine a song, write it, practice it, pay for studio time, and sing like this in front of real people. All the while I need coaching to book a hair appointment. Life never has been fair. This sounds like Sadé being sung in a drunken fashion by a disgruntled philosophy professor at a poorly funded college’s campus bar karaoke Tuesday. Hope that paints a picture for you. Smiling Stranger - Alright. This one kind of won me over. This album is hilarious and this song actually goes pretty hard. Big Muff - Gross. I hated typing those words, let alone hearing them belted out in a falsetto from da funkiest white boi on campus. I have been lost. I mean I’m having fun, but this sucks. Couldn’t Love You More - Whoa. Does this mean that he loves the subject of the song the most possible OR is it past tense, saying “hey pal, couldn’t love you any more, sorry.” This was truly awful. Once again, in a mostly funny way, although it was a little sad. This is obviously a guy in the throes of some addiction. Certain Surprise - This sounds like if you fed Nick Drake a steady diet of acid and speed and taught him about vocal jazz. How does that sound to you? If you said upsetting and hilarious, you just won a million dollars. Please contact uhh what was that address? Dancing - Adult partier anthem. A tribute to sadness, and the desperate clawing at a faded youth that dissipates with each strand of hair that meets its final rest on the pillow. Small Hours - Is this the party anthem redux?? No, it’s a 9 minute closer. Strap in, this should be good. We’re about halfway and nothing has happened. It’s quiet, fairly nice, but mostly boring. I do love the geese ad libs. Oh and now it’s over. That stunk. Man this is a tough one. I had a blast. I felt like I was permanently laughing while this thing was playing. I was laughing at it, but I was still laughing. How can I hate something that brought so much joy? Well, it’s very easy for me as I am a generational hater. This album sucks, but it sucks in such a way that I was never angry or bored. That has to be worth something! It’s worth about a 2, and a half”on to the next one.” Now that’s over with, I’m about to drop a couple tabs and get transported into the body of a sea star. Tally ho. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Smiling Stranger

Oooook???? The best album in the world ever according to virgins worldwide. If you have not felt the warm embrace of another person, this album is your life. I kid. As a man with particularly eccentric interests myself (god that sounds like I collect taxidermied humans or something), I understand being an obsessive weirdo. I hope to understand the hype as I enter the thrilling world of Y2K era computer-based art. I have firmly affixed my hacker eye piece and I am ready to say “OK computer, show me some beefed up hogs wrestling over a big tire in a field.” Airbag - Am I getting U2 from this? Why am I asking? I am. It’s “creep”ing into my head. I can’t escape them. The music itself is very innovative here though. Somehow rocking extremely hard underneath vocals I’m not enjoying at all. Paranoid Android - Wait a second, androids can’t feel emotions. Explain yourself. Oh yeah. Way fewer U2 feelings here. Hellacious riff about halfway through and a continuation of the very interesting musical experimentation that permeated the first track. Whether Android, iPhone, or rocking back and forth in a damp cellar trying to come down off of dopamine addiction, I think we can all get along under the banner of the android. Subterranean Homesick Alien - Bob Dylan reference on a Radiohead song? Holy sweet hell. This probably caused literal shockwaves in whatever community I haven’t poked fun at yet. Warhammer 40k players? Backgammon associate masters? Who cares. Exit Music (For a Film) - Thanks for spelling it out, Thommy. Is it Thom? I think so. This is a fantastic song. Moody, dark, and even a little heavy in places. I was going to make dumb jokes about the fact that they really jammed “for a film” in there, but this song kind of just took the wind out of my bad joke writing. How dare you. Let Down - This may be the greatest gambit ever pulled. Call the bad song on your record Let Down. Genius. 10 star salute to my bois in the band. Karma Police - A song that has been firmly planted in my A(u)(r)tistic playlist for a long time. It’s a beautiful song. So Fitter Happier - No more bad stuff. Stephen Hawking slayed this feature. Years ahead of the trend of putting dumb celebrities in dumber songs. Disclaimer: I am not proud of the Stephen Hawking “joke.” It is the laziest, garbage-iest, meme-iest type of humour that there is, and it should’ve stayed in 2002. But if I said, “is this the same guy that does “Jennifer,” the opening track on “Prowler in the Yard.””Would you have ANY idea what I’m talking about? Oh who cares. I could write a detailed terrorist plot in here and nobody would read it. Cool track. Electioneering - They seem to do a bad song, followed by a great song, followed by a bad song. Perhaps that is another concept that’s wafting above my admittedly stunted head. My actual head is HUGE, but the brain inside doesn’t quite live up to its gigantic casing. It’s like a AA battery trying to power a small city. This song does continue the trend. Climbing Up the Walls - The pattern continues. This song is interesting and grabbed me from the start. I even like the song title. Anxiety in a musical format. Gotta be the best genre goin’. No Surprises - None? I had a whole 30th anniversary planned for May 28, 2027. Do you think it’s cheap to rent out the Bridgewater Legion Hall?? You know what? I’m starting to think you guys don’t even want to come hang out with me in Nova Scotia in two years. I know that can’t be it, so what’s wrong? Cold shoulder. Listen. This song is not as good as the previous one, but it’s alright. Trend sort of broken. Now will you visit?? I bought streamers. Lucky - L-U-C-K-Y somethin’ somethin’ pussy on fire. When will we be reviewing RuPaul music? I assume she’s got 6 or 7 albums on here. While we wait for that fabulous day, I am still in the midst of this technology opus. There really hasn’t been any computer talk. I’m crushed. This is fine. The Tourist - The enemy of all angry hippies worldwide. Somebody cares about my city? I HATE THEM SO MUCH. It’s their fault prices are going up, and not the evil opportunistic monsters that created and thrive in the cesspool that they have ensnared us in. Yeah this song is real depressing. I think that’s the aim. Kind of a snooze for me, as I’m not really feeling that particular way right now. I suppose that’s a good thing. This is obviously a meticulously crafted record. I typically feel one of two ways when I come to review the “big critical success” albums. I am usually excited, but I can also be overwhelmed by the volume of opinions and I can sometimes feel like an alien. Of this is your favourite album, good for you. I think it’s a fine choice. You can tell it is musically capable, and Radiohead did a lot of supremely interesting things with the rock genre here. They wrote beautiful melodies, hard-driving riffs, and crafted some excellent soundscapes. They also produced some extensive boredom. It’s not because I’m some dolt that needs to be thrilled with each and every note, but certainly on a first pass, there were stretches where k thought there was too much air, or where the vocals veered into obnoxious and whiny tones. When you meld these two critiques, you’re left with a good album. One that I will revisit, but nothing that changed my life. Accessing mainframe. I’m in. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Paranoid Android, Exit Music (For a Film), Karma Police, Fitter Happier, Climbing Up the Walls

Grindcore style album cover. Conjures images of Terrorizer or Brutal Truth. Ooh maybe Dystopia. They’re more crust/sludge or some other synonym for filth. Either way. I’m sure this won’t hold a candle to any of that, but that’s only based on about 11 months of terrible recommendations, so who’s to say. Throw me overboard, I need to collect some of this coral. Spanish Main - Interesting. Well, until the vocals come in. Jeeeeesus. Musical theatre. The music itself was pretty interesting, but the vocals sounded like Maroon 5. I Remember When - More Maroon 5 vo-kills. God, have you ever seen when cheesy bedroom black metal bands say things like “vo-kills?” I love it in an ironic sort of way. This song is alright but I can’t get behind this vocalist. Better than the last, especially during the verses. Shadows Fall - Oh noooo. It’s like post-ironic polka. Plus, it made me think of mid-2000s metalcore. And the associated swoop haircut. I experience zero nostalgia for like 2008-2014. What a lame era. Dreaming of You - I have been wracking my wrecked brain to try and recall where I’ve heard this song before. I also swore it sounded slightly different. I think it was in “Lego Rockband.” God I loved those rhythm games. This is actually a really sweet sounding song. I hate liking the popular ones, especially considering this was in an ad for “indeed,” but this is pretty undeniable. Simon Diamond - I always thought Simon Dean was Simon Diamond before, but it was actually just some club who teamed with CW Anderson in the dark days of ECW. When ECW stood for Even CW gets booked. Stinky song. Goodbye - I wish this was goodbye. I’m not having the best of times here. Fairly uninspiring. Waiting for the Heartaches - Man, this opening act has been going forever. When are the Heartaches going to get here?? This shitty reggae influenced band has been playing for hours. What’s that? It’s only been like 25 minutes? I’ve felt every second of that 25 minutes twice. Skeleton Key - Spooky! That weird funk break near the end broke the monotony of the previous few minutes, but then that was pretty lame too. Wildfire - Ringtone music meets the Clash. While that is what I believe to be the perfect combo for the creators of this list, I dislike both of those parts. Their sum? Even worse. Bad Man - Oh buddy we’re getting some sniffs. We’re getting some pounding drums. We’re getting mistakes on guitar. Ugh I just don’t care. Calendars & Clocks - This album feels like it’s measured in calendars rather than clocks. This song is really bad and has soured me on the whole album. I was leaning towards saying this was mediocre until that last stretch of songs. This thing sucks. 34 minutes felt like 134, and I hope this is the very last we see from this band. A cool album cover and one good hook can’t save you from the devastation that is receiving a poor rating from 1001albumsgenerator.com user 1617385. Truth hurts pal. The ska is coming from inside the album. Get me out of here. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: Dreaming of You

I swore we’ve heard this one before. Oh wait that was the white album. This is as if somebody drew a bunch of boardwalk Beatles caricatures on the white album. Well joke’s on me, because the white album came out after this. Man the Beatles released a lot of stuff. They were only a band for like 10 years. Less? I’m not up on my trivia. I’m not up on reviews either as these have fallen way behind. Actually having to do ridiculous amounts of work really puts a strain on my life. I thought I was supposed to enjoy a mouse wiggling lifestyle until the bloat of this system crushes itself and the surviving few return to subsistence farming? Help me, my rockin’ scousers. Taxman - I swear I just heard a blues version of this. Who knows what the original is, or if I made that up. Maybe it occurred as a lucid dream. This is a good song. We’re off to a strong start. Eleanor Rigby - A famous song title that I feel like overshadows what the song actually is. That means I’ve never heard it. Decent song. I’m Only Sleeping - This is the kind of songwriting that seems to just pour out of Beatles album. Beautiful melodies, fascinating experimentation. A song that moody teenagers today wish they could write. Timeless. Love You To - To where??? Plz answer. Ehh I don’t care as much about this one as a song. I’m always a sucker for middle eastern instruments, but the lyrics and general melody aren’t really for me. Here, There And Everywhere - Man, this is pretty cheesy. Nice enough, but a little too sweet for me. Send it back, remove about two cups of sugar, and bring it back. Yellow Submarine - The perils of letting your drummer write a song. Was this a Ringo? I think so. I like the opening verses, but the chorus is infamously stupid. While you may think “hey, this guy writes at a fifth grade level, maybe he likes stupid things,” I say, that is a half truth. You figure out which half. Trick question, it’s both. I actually like this song. Fuck. She Said She Said - So modern sounding. We just listened to Radiohead, and this sounds like Radiohead except happy. Not a bad track, but I’m not exactly dipping into the inkwell for my letter home. Good Day Sunshine - Thisnis the song that Mr. Burns sang at the end of that alien episode. Good morning Starshine or whatever. Hell yeah. The song itself? Mid. Mid to abysmal. Somewhere in that elevator to hell. And Your Bird Can Sing - Are we talking English (country) meaning of “bird?” Like his girfriend? Or are we talking regular bird? God forbid we’re talking maritimes meaning of bird. That’s an entirely different song. This one is fine. For No One - A nice enough track. Can’t really dissect it further than that. Dr. Robert - Very old school rock song with the “modern” sensibilities that the Beatles were so good at supplying. Fun song. I Want to Tell You - Jeez I almost wrote I want to Yell at You. A Freudian slip. Well I actually like this album so far, but I guess not as much as I thought I would. Which is upsetting me. Got to Get You Into My Life - What I’ve got you’ve got to get it put in you. See fellas maybe we can change it to what I’d like is I’d like to hug and kiss you. I kind of hate this song. This has to be Paul. Too happy. Bad horns. Tomorrow Never Knows - This just feels so modern. I hate that I must conjure up their name so often, but bad things usually stick with me more. Here we go. This is what I think people think U2 sounds like. It is of course, not, but this is essentially good early 2000s late 90s alt written in the mid 60’s. Not what I expected. Revolver straddles a line between distinct experimentation and glittery, saccharine pop that evades description. Of course there is still plenty of influence worship throughout, as you would expect from a Beatles album. I liked this. Didn’t love it though. I wondered which revolver this would be. The gun that shoots me repeatedly in areas that really only cause pain, or the vinyl record gently revolving on the turntable, thrilling me with jt’s each and every skip. In the end, it kind of turned out to be a revolving door. A amusing day brightener in the world of bog standard doors, but nothing I’ll cherish forever. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: I’m Only Sleeping, Yellow Submarine, Dr. Robert, Tomorrow Never Knows

Another mystery appears before me. Materializing out of the ether as I wearily attempt to ignore my phone. No avail to be reached as I lunge at the device for the chemicals I can no longer reliably produce without this empty stimuli. Thankfully we’ve chosen this path instead of automated industries with equitable sharing of the resources reaped from this revolutionary technology. I’m much happier with my dollar not going far and AI music advancing faster than cures for disease. At least billionaires continue to produce more proverbial dust to smother the workforce in. Look on the bright side; at least I can temporarily dissociate to the sultry tones of today’s horrible album. Listened to on a platform that funds AI warfare technologies. If you’re not catatonic, join me for this trip south of the border. Which border? Great question. Chan Chan - WORLD music?? Everybody calm down. It’s a Simpsons quote. I suppose I do need to qualify statements like that in the post-satire hellscape we have mired ourselves in. This is actually not bad. A solid opener. De Camino a la Vereda - This is immensely repetitive and annoying. Perhaps apart from the bizarre stabs of uhh “horror movie piano” around the 3 minute mark. El Cuarto de Tula - This has to be in the Tropico soundtrack. Ah it’s Cuban. Maybe my rant at the start was more relevant than I thought. Well. More music here. This is not a genre I care about. The song is fine. Or at least it would be, if it was under 7 minutes and didn’t repeat the same refrain 374 times. Capable playing, boring ideas. Pueblo Novo - I know zero Spanish. Thanks a lot grade 10 Spanish class in western Canada. At least I’ve seen that one peanuts Christmas special “en Español.” Oh and I also know the South American countries like the back of my hand. Probably better, as I can’t for the life of me picture one feature of the back of my hands without immediate visual aid. This is almost decent jazz, but it is incredibly simple and ultimately kind of lacklustre. Dos Gardenias - What the hell do you need with 12 gardens??? Oh it’s two? Same bloody question. These guys are outta control. Is it a different thing? I could easily translate this, but as a North American , it’s my duty to pretend it’s akin to the Dead Sea scrolls. ¿Y Tú Qué Has Hecho? - We’ve reached the bad singing part of the album. You know what I’ve always admired about Spanish though? The upside down question mark. You know how to read that fucker right from the start. Lay it out clean. I like that. This song? Dumpster. The question syntax? Two thumbs up. Veinte Años - It autocorrected Veinte to “Cringe,” so not a good omen for the song, and a truce indictment of my vocabulary. This was nothing. El Carretero - ugghhhh I don’t care. Candela - This has to be the same song. I find not being able to understand the lyrics at all great detracts from my enjoyment. Amor de Loca Juventud - Juvie? Part of the Mexicools with Suoer Crazy and Psicosis? Probably the most blatant disregarding of talent and pigeonholing based on race in WWF/WWE history. Think of the territory that takes in. Anyway. I have to keep myself entertained somehow. This is endless. We are out of ideas. Orgulleceda - alright. The song did NOT change. Holy HELL 4 more songs??? Murmullo - Armadillo competitor. Perhaps more thoughtful. Someone saying armadillo whilst experiencing TIA symptoms. Throwing some stuff at the wall here to see what sticks. Let me know if there are some humdingers in here. Buena Vista Social Club - The rare triple crown title. Cannot compare quality wise to Black Sabbath by Black Sabbath off of Black Sabbath. Or even Deicide x3. But here we are. Revelling in irrelevant garbage to numb the pain of mediocre piano jazz set to a click track. La Bayamesa - Reading the story of this album makes me feel happy that they got to release this. Hey, you’ve got a bunch of local musicians who never really made a stamp worldwide and now you’ve got a hit that transcends cultures. That’s cool. I am not in the target demographic for this. I hate this sound, I hate not being able to understand the language, and I hate how bloody long this felt. Are all of these issues my problem? Yes, but I suppose that’s why they inform my opinion. I hated this. I wanted it to end after track two. Maybe partway through. These people are competent players and clearly passionate, but if I never hear a song in this genre again, I shall learn Spanish and go on a cultural pilgrimage to Havana, in thanks of my new gift. Adios, BVSC. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: You can really learn a lot about a flock by watching each second bleed away.

Ice-T is a cool guy. From what I know. It’s in saying that I’ll be inundated with headlines like “ICE-T PUNTS GOATS TO HEAR THEM SCREAM IN PAIN.” For now, I like the fella. Body Count has some pretty sick songs that address some heavy topics directly, and Mr. T - ugh wait that’s taken. Uhhhhh The Ice Man FUCK, that’s taken by that mobster hitman guy. I’ll come back to it. Of all the things he’s famous for, Ice-T’s rapping always seemed like his weakest point to me. Who knows.As far as the album cover, Ice-T shows the true duality of a G. Whether you’re jacked and pensive, or ready as FUCK for a sick prom night, you always gotta keep it real. Time to spin the block. Home of the BodyBag - This is an ad for a fast-food restaurant. We take a taco shell and fill it entirely with eggs. Then we grate six blocks of cheese into the grease disposal behind our restaurant. We summon a hunchback to stir that mixture and shape it into a block. We combine the shell full of eggs and the grease block and shove it into a garbage bag. If you eat it and survive? First Impression - on the second song. Classic T. Oh it’s an interlude. I’ve been duped. Ziplock - Whoa. Rare mention of the evil version of Eazy-E AND the new cell phone data speed 500G?? This guy was ahead of his time. Hell of a song. Very funny lyrics, and whilst not intentional, it had some hard moments too. Way to go. Mic Contract - This is Ice-T on behalf of Blue Yeti microphones. When I sang “Colors” I imagined the sleek brushed steel blue of the new PodJerk 600. Now I refuse to enter the stu’ unless I’ve got my blu. Yeah this one isn’t bad, I guess. Very of its time. Sounding ancient. The beat is fun though. Mind over Matter - Yeah, I feel like this review is going to be super boring. This song actually sucks. Ice-T sounds like he’s tired. For a 72 minute album. We could’ve got that down to 68. My brain is a hand grenade, catch…Hit you with an overload of bottomless thought. Alright it’s pretty good. New Jack Hustler (Nino’s Theme) - I don’t know who Nino is, but I know that New Jack would probably jump off some shit while this played. I like how the background repeated sample is just Ice-T again. I’m surprised how well he can rap. From my memory he was lethargic and horrible. Way to go. The lyrics are suspect, but very entertaining. This one is so funny, it’s a highlight. NEW NEW NEW NEW NEW JACK NEW JACK HUSTLA. Ed - I LOVE shoutouts. I could never hope to be half as funny as a rapper saying a seemingly random selection of words at the start of a song. Yo yo yo shoutout DJ Ham Sandwich, Big Ups to Pete Sandals, hey I see you Big Shitty Doug. We out here. Garbage posse, let’s go. Bitches 2 - They came out with a sequel to bitches? Uh oh, am I right fellas?? Huh? *clown horn honks.* This beat honestly goes hard as hell, and Ice-T pretending to be a woman at the start of the song is hilarious. AND, this song is a feminist slay as T-Dawg says “men can be bitches too.” Icon. Straight Up Ni**a - Yeah I’ll be that guy. I have to censor it, but the song has a message about the word itself. This was an odd one. It was fine, but man that was a lot of repetition of one word. O.G. Original Gangster - Nobody says “gangster” anymore. Also, “everybody has hand grenades”?? Damn. It is tough down there. I love the bad gun sound effect where Ice-T has to say “that was a shotgun.” It’s like a kid over-explaining that his pool noodle is actually a horse and it can fly. The House - Damn Evil E - What About Sex? - Hey Ice-T, please sing about sex for the boys. Pretty please. What the hell is this? I thought this was going to be a “your changing body” PSA delivered by Evil E, but instead, we got an interlude where I am further mystified why people want to listen to songs that explicitly detail sex Fly By - Whoever is featured on this track reminds me that Ice-T is pretty god damn good. Donald D? The duck? No more of him please. Midnight - Ice-T LOVES writing songs about specific times. Oh my sweet lord. Sampling the first metal song ever? One of the greatest? Hell yeah. This rules. Even if it is an odd MIDI interpretation of Black Sabbath. What a crossover. Sinister, violent, and aggressive. Perfect old school gangster rap track. Fried Chicken - Well this is a change of pace. Basically an interlude, but it is a showcase of the fact that the beats are actually pretty good on this record. M.V.P.s - What a positive guy. Just saying a bunch of names that are imlortant to him. Lifestyles of the Rich and Infamous - Big L is listening. And you know how hard it is to get that guy to stop snatchin’ purses and bombing churches. This beat is uhh interesting? I’m not sure what that muppet noise is and I don’t love it. Body Count - He said it. Hell yeah. A complete crossover? This might be fake. I think I’ve been duped. Oh wait no it’s real. This rules. What a ballsy move. His rock vocal delivery is so god damn good. Except we should ban guns, but anyway, he’s coming at it from a different perspective. One where cops randomly kill your friends. I feel like that’s different. Anyway, Body Count rules. The guitar production could’ve been better, but the vocals and general feel is all there. Prepared to Die - A freestyle that’s pretty cool. I was very wrong about his rapping ability. Escape From the Killing Fields - This is a very Public Enemy song. I’m going to say it, Ice-T is incredibly based. Controversial statement. Mostly due to the lame internet nature of the statement. Street Killer - I got the stupidest motha fuckin posse in the whole god damn city. That will live forever. Pulse of the Rhyme - Funky as all hell. Too many quotables to transcribe here. So fun. I mean it’s insane, but it’s a blast. Give me the gas chamber and watch me inhale. The Tower - The Halloween opener. This song is kinda slow. Ya Shoulda Killed Me Last Year - Oh my god. He’s the best. I’d like to add, Fuck the Gulf War and most importantly Fuck The United States of America. Then, Now, Forever. This guy gets it. And by it, I mean the elements of hip hop I enjoy the most. This album was a lot of fun. The lyrics ranged from meaningful to hilarious, and all the way back to violent poems that exaggerate but also detail street life. The poetry is outstanding, the sinister atmosphere is tremendous and I had a great time with this record. I can’t believe o enjoyed a West Cost album to this degree, but as Ice-T alluded to, it just doesn’t sound right when he writes about partying. It’s all about the violence rap, and Ice-T delivered like his ZIP code was uhh whatever the ZIP code is in New York City. I guess he is from there. This has unravelled. Look. I had a good time, and this album was a breath of fresh air. 3.5-4 HIGHLIGHTS: Ziplock, New Jack Hustler (Nino’s Theme), Bitches 2, Midnight, Body Count

Move to Philly, buy a loft, start a noise band. Get 6 or 7 roommates; eat hummus with them. Book some gigs. Paint, smoke cloves, listen to Animal Collective. Start some type of salsa company. Hannibal Buress, 2012. This is my reference point for Animal Collective, a band that has the unfortunate distinction of releasing an album in the period of culture death known as 2009. The only good thing that happened in 2009 was the beginning of RuPaul’s Drag Race. That’s all we had. And I didn’t even understand that shit yet. ‘Twas a cruel time. With the calming monologue of Hannibal coursing through my veins, I’m ready to experience Philly loft music at its most potent. Please be more interesting than the other albums we’ve experienced from this infamous year In the Flowers - This really is music you’d listen to while eating hummus with 6 or 7 roommates. What the hell is going on? It’s interesting and layered, yet still also somehow falls into the trappings of radio indie folk of the era. Which of course, I am a small sucker for. Jury is still out, but I’m definitely listening. My Girls - This is either famous, or Spotify has played this for me a 1000 times. I’m not mad, I kind of like it. Do I? It’s hypnotic and interesting, but if you removed the swimming instrumental, it sounds like a Down with Webster song. I can’t possibly enjoy that. Can I? Eh. I like it. Too cool an atmosphere to ignore. Also Frightened - Hi I’d like to state that I’m also frightened. Perhaps of fatherhood? I’m probably taking the lyrics too far, but the weight of impending parenthood is certainly heavy, and requires a lot of introspection. Decent song. Summertime Clothes - The vocal line is not my thing. The atmosphere continues to drag this along. Daily Routine - This was a nice song. Thumbs up from ya boi, music hater Supremo. Bluish - I bless the rains down in Africa. It could also be that song by Savage Garden from the 90’s. That’s more of a reach. This is just floating by for me. Guys Eyes - More vast nothingness. I mean it’s not THAT stark, but it is lacking a little bit of a punch. I actually really don’t like this song. What a sparklingly worded review. Another masterclass. Taste - More repetition I believe. This one has a cooler melody underneath the buzzing, but when we have the same wallpaper enveloping every track, it’s hard not to feel like it’s all the same. Lion in a Coma - Coolest song title in an album full of cool song titles, and yet one of the worst songs. EDM style didgeridoo sample with “lion in a coma being said repeatedly for the duration of the track’s run-time. If the combination of “EDM” and “didgeridoo” made you feel ill, congratulations, you may be normal. No More Runnin - Yeah this one is good so far. Quiet, but still faithful to the lush soundscapes that this band seems intent on creating. It all comes together pretty well here. There is something I’m just not loving about it still. Might be one of those “not for me” instances. Brother Sport - Alright. Well this was the final straw. I wanted to like this, but this is “worst man you’ve ever met gets spiritual to attempt to seduce to the worst woman you’ve ever met.” White spirituality is a whole rabbit hole that I don’t want to even broach today. I’m weary. This song sucks. Way to leave me disappointed. Full disclosure, I listened to Ice-T’s 1991 album, “O.G. Original Gangster” before this. Back to back. I gave that fucker a 4. Well, 3.5-4 if we’re splitting hairs, but I really enjoyed it. I’m tempted to make some joke saying I prefer “dumb” music, but there was actually a lot of substance on that record if you read between the lines. Merriwrather Post Pavilion obviously has capable literary lyricism, and a penchant for deliberate song writing that I assume conveys messages heretofore unimagined by the unwashed music listener. All that to say, I didn’t get much from this. Whether the thesis statement was above my head, or dragged down by repetitive dance music and white boi reggae buried under dense static-y indie noise, the message was lost on your humble reviewer. Some of this may be worth a re-listen, but there appears to be so much filler on here that I can’t endorse it as it stands right now. Now to imagine a cool animal based band where there is a sunglasses-clad walrus playing the fuck out of a piccolo. Huh. Maybe I am dumb. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: My Girls, Daily Routine, No More Runnin

Wait, does that mean eachother IS Satan? Does devil make apple point studio music microphone? God is gud saved to be sure #revelations. That is my impression of real people (supposedly) who comment on local news posts on Facebook. They really have their finger on the pulse. I think it takes early onset dementia and an internet connection to really break through and see the veins of the world exposed. Where does the lifeblood flow? Tell us, oh retired steel plant worker from Knoxville. Is the local vet executing marmots in service of the dark lord?? Only you can break the curse. Anyway, it’s the White Stripes! A later release from them, but an album that certainly had an impact on young me. I will recognize a lot here. Let’s see how it holds up. Blue Orchid - I am a sensitive guy. I believe I read a negative review of this song like 15 years ago and it stuck with me forever to the point where I believe the sneering music reviewer community hates this song like poison. Even if that is true, I can’t deny this song. The high pitched vocals are electrifying, the stark drums do exactly what they need to and this is a perfect rock opener. Snarky internet reviewers be damned. Hey. Is it suddenly brimstoney in here? The Nurse - Nursery rhyme type music with brutal, off-time stabs of rock. This track is off to a fascinating start. Interesting song that never fully got off the ground. I liked the intentional clash of instrument styles. My Doorbell - This song was UNDENIABLE for 9 year old me. Would I trust that little guy’s taste levels? Probably not, but listening to this song as an adult, I can’t help but be overcome with a sense of sweet nostalgia. Opt me out of the insightful critical eye here. I’m too busy here in 2005. Forever For Her (Is Over For Me) - The Marimba is back. This song was kind of a sleeper. Not my favourite. Little Ghost - Alright. A little bluegrass moment. Hell yeah. I like it. The Denial Twist - another fun rock song. Nothing mind-blowing but it works pretty well. White Moon - Nothing much to say on this one. It’s fine Instinct Blues - There is some of that grit and heaviness I expected coming in. Well, actually I expected this to be fully sanitized for radio, but this is actually bluesy and pretty aggressive. Passive Manipulation - What the hell is this vocal. I like it. Charming in its awfulness. Fun interlude. Take, Take, Take - Did The White Stripes invent this sound? I know Cage the Elephant goes this way as well, but who came first. I’m sure somebody will be screaming that some Britpop pre-vival (predicting the revival before the genre officially exists) band from 1982 wrote this song or something. Whatever. This is a good track, wherever or whenever it came to be. As Ugly as I Seem - A song title that had promise, but a middle of the road track. Red Rain - We’re back. Even with the Fischer-Price Xylophone on full display, the riff and production choices here are hard as hell. Great rock song. I’m Lonely (But I Ain’t That Lonely Yet) - An odd ballad closer. I like the spirit of it in general. Just as a bizarre outro, but as a song itself? Maybe the album ends with Red Rain on the next listen. I enjoy the White Stripes. This is probably something I’d revisit regardless, but I do have to say that this was missing a lot of the urgency that I enjoyed from their earlier work. Bands often mellow with time, and I think they were nearing the end of their creative “rope” if you will. And if you won’t? I don’t care. It’s my review, I’ll use tired cliches if I want to. I won’t even add the accent to cliché. Well I will that time. Whatever. Stop bothering me. The trademark songwriting and bursts of energy make this a solid album, albeit a slight let down from their 2001 effort. With all that out in the open, if you’re looking for creative rock music with fun flourishes AND you like artists that are part of murals at the Eastlink Centre in Charlottetown, PEI, oh buddy have I got the album for you. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Blue Orchid, My Doorbell, Take, Take, Take, Red Rain

To co-opt a phrase that was used to sell dish detergent and blenders during the COVID-19 pandemic, we need this type of statement “now, more than ever.” At least I think. All the guys who listened to this album in high school are now terminally online transphobes with hypocritical browser histories, so I don’t know. I remember enjoying this as an angsty teen, and as a weird terminally online bleeding heart lefty, I wonder if the angry poems about the injustices levied upon the working class will resonate even harder today. To battle! Bombtrack - Pure funk metal. I mean this is such a familiar song, and whilst I don’t really care about any of the “this song is better than other songs” shit, but I love a good shot at landlords and every suit wearing sycophant draining the planet of life. Solid start. Killing in the Name - I probably talk too much about autocorrect and what it attempts to do during these meandering tirades, but this time it believed I just forgot to finish that common phrase “Killing in the Name of Jesus.” Do people say that? I know all religions are barbaric control devices responsible for more death over the eons than anything else ever, but still. Anyway. This song has again, been ruined by adult teenagers who are just grumpy about having to have showers, but this song has so much energy. Pure vitriol. Some of those that work forces, are the same that burn crosses. Take the Power Back - More drive, more hatred. “Jump the fuck up” riffs done tastefully almost a decade before they’d encourage broken gypsum boards across the nation. Settle for Nothing - The lyrical repetition doesn’t work as well for me here, but this song almost has a Dystopia vibe. The band, not the concept. Add some broken glass and some increased hopelessness to the lyrics, you’re pretty damn close. Bullet in the Head - Probably the funkiest one going. Another comment on the news here and the propaganda machine in the US. The bass really leads this track. God that tone is incredible. Know Your Enemy - I remember this one being one of my favourites when I was 13 or so. The metal riff off the start is fantastic and the song moves with a swaggering aggression I still really enjoy. Undeniable. The shouted, repeated outro is still bone-chilling. Wake Up - Wake up, sheeple. I don’t love the funk sweeps (?). How do I say that? The funk guitar can be a little grating. Lyrics are strong here. Possibly the strongest lyrics but also perhaps the weakest song. Fistful of Steel - That guitar whine reminds me of some WWF theme song from later. More violent riffing, and a brief foray into Tom Morello guitar hero stuff. That main riff is just too good. Township Rebellion - More funk proto nu-metal. Solid riffing. You know what to expect at this point of the album. Freedom - The vocal breaks at the end of this are perfect. When you can hear a vocalist going beyond performance, it’s a special moment. One of my favourite spots on the entire record. These days, every moron with an internet connection (me) has some extreme political take. Half the discourse is about not thinking poor people should have water or houses or food; and the other half is about murdering the CEOs whose greed is ripping the planet in half. However, in 1992? I feel like this wasn’t trendy. This wasn’t a commonplace thing to hear, especially on the radio. America trained its citizens to be petrified and angry at any socialist thought, so to release this coherent and miserable blast aimed at the base of that military-industrial fire this early? It’s a true departure from the mainstream that somehow wove its way into it. Obviously, Rage Against the Machine didn’t invent the ideas held within their self-titled album, but to get these thoughts into the consciousness of your garden variety teenager in the early 90’s was a massive accomplishment. To do it with such an uncompromising vitriol? That is a triumph. A little bit of sameness keeps this from perfection, but this group cashes every cheque that their name writes and donates it to the various guerrilla forces forming outside of Fortune 500 company HQs. See? Sometimes I write serious things. Better save it. Uhhh Excuse me Mr. monk, you’re blocking traffic. There’s this sale at Lee Valley and if I don’t have my miniature trainyard done by Christmas, I can kiss my “Prince of Rails” blue ribbon certification goodbye. Oh great, now he’s self-immolating in protest. I better call Jim over at Lee Valley. I might be here awhile. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Bombtrack, Killing in the Name Of, Know Your Enemy, Fistful of Steel

Look at that stance. I’d draw on this guy faster than you could say PIG iron. Which, if you think about, is much cooler. A hog smelting factory?? For the record, I mean a smelting factory owned and operated by large Berkshire pigs, not a place where swine are smelted into weaponry. And my gun? I’m glad you asked, full of bubbles. So when Marty and I draw, and I’m left dead in a c’oud of smoke, rest assured that in about 32 seconds, he’s going to get the soap stinger of a lifetime. Checkmate, Marty, checkmate. Big Iron - This song is more associated with a comically sad looking basset hound than I will ever be, and that’s a true tragedy. I think I hate all songs that end up in short form content, but as a full song? This can’t be denied. The background singers really make this. Very cool storytelling track. Hell yeah. A Hundred and Sixty Acres - Is this the “Trail Songs” portion of the album? Hoss mentioned. Great word. They’re Hanging Me Tonight - This sounds like a love song they’d play at prom and it’s about getting hanged. I mean that’s pretty cool. Every hanging song rules. I don’t make the rules, I’m just an observer. Cheaters get the pistol though. That’s always cool. Cool Water - Speaking of cool, this song ain’t all that cool. Gunfighter ballads, Trail songs and divining rod epics. Billy the Kid - Uhh is this the same story as Big Iron? He killed a bunch of guys, recorded it crudely on his pistol and the n ultimately lost a duel to a sheriff. Cool, but this is a worse version of the first track. Utah Carol - This sounds like an anthem for lifelong bachelors and roommate best friends from that era. See that was before being gay existed, so we cried over blankets that killed our cowboy partners who were also our best friends and NOTHING ELSE. The Strawberry Roan - Chappell? Oh damn I thought he was going to rhyme “fuck” with “buck.” That would be cool. Not the best thing going bere The Master’s Call - Oh, it’s Big Iron again. Pretty much the exact same melody. Am I insane? Running Gun - This is the best version of Big Iron since Big Iron. This should’ve been the sequel. El Paso - Oh god. The El Paso mamacita had a hold on old Marty. In the Valley - I’ve checked our close personal friend, RYM and it has determined that this track list is all wrong. I hate that. I don’t hate this song though. The Little Green Valley - See are these separate valleys? He was there, now he’s homesick for it. Or, are these distinct. Is one a different geographical structure. A coulee perhaps? The Hanging Tree - Hanging songs can’t miss. Well, maybe a small miss. This sounds like it’s from a different album, and honestly? An album I pray we don’t have to hear. Saddle Tramp - Who’s the saddle tramp? I will not be listening to the El Paso redux. Come on. In solidarity, I shall watch Eddie Guerrero vs Rey Mysterio Jr. for Halloween Havoc ‘97. ‘Tis Stampede season here in Calgary, Alberta. Heaven for alcoholics, adulterers, and adult costume wearers. Hell for prison populations, allergy experiencers, and intelligent people. It’s a time where it’s ok for 46 year old account managers to hit on 18 year olds having their first beer, because everybody is in a fun hat! I like some country-tinged music, but the time of year makes it hard and the album length was overkill. A lot of sameness to the tracks and that’s a recurring theme with these 50’s pop records. Good music, but overstays its welcome. Roll on fall. Rid me of the cowpoke scourge. Marty, you can stay, just don’t be so long-winded. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Big Iron, Running Gun

Talking. One of the true gifts and punishments of humanity. On the positive side, we can communicate complex ideas and emotions that can be understood by others. On the other side of the coin, we can communicate complex ideas with other humans and then we all kill each other. Listen. It’s been almost a year of this. If I’m sitting here “talking” about talking? We’ve hit the bottom of the well. More British new wave presumably. The most important genre to ever exist according to this list. Rule Brittania. Happiness is Easy - Very cool beginning. I don’t really know how time signatures work, but I think there’s some odd stuff going on here. Exciting sounds. Not really into the children choir portions, but this is a cool track. I Don’t Believe in You - Hmmm. This is less good. A lot less good. We’re on the radio in 1999 now. This singer is making me laugh. Although, is he deaf? Probably shouldn’t laugh if that’s the case. Whatever. It’s not like my reviews get posted in the association for the deaf’s community bulletin. Unless they do. Oh god. I better start learning my ASL apology. Life’s What You Make It - This rhythm is pretty undeniable. Liking it. One of those back and forth albums? This is certainly one of the good ones. April 5th - More funny vocals and a song about a specific day. What a random ass day. I don’t sit here with a lyric sheet, so this could be anything from an anniversary to a random red herring title. What do I look like? A journalist? Living in Another World - The singing gets even funnier somehow. Harmonicas are almost never good. Although, why is this so god damn catchy. Put Sadé over every instrumental on this record and you have a 5 star classic. Why do I love Sadé so much? Anyway, the atonal piano stab is a microcosm of what’s making this album interesting so far. A lot of unexpected turns. Give It Up - oh no. White boi reggae™️ has been teased. Never mind. We’ve just gone into that shitty riverboat instrument. You know what I mean. This is the worst song so far. Doesn’t stray from the path of immense boredom. Chameleon Day - Best song on the album. Totally drenched in melancholy and crushing, mixed with incredible oddities that make this feel like entering a cathedral to a major depressive episode. Heavy, miserable, and ultimately fascinating. Happiness might not be all that easy after all. Time It’s Time - Kind of a lame close. Not much to say about it. This album was interesting because I expected to hate it and there were just so many left turns. The production made everything sound so good, which is possibly just down to the quality of the remaster, but the ideas here really popped with the high sound fidelity. At least I think. Maybe this is the worst produced album of all time. Listen, I liked the sounds ok? Sue me. There were some lame songs here but there were some real heavy hitters as well. I walk walk away from talk talk pleasantly surprised and thoroughly miserable. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Happiness is Easy, Life’s What You Make It, Chameleon Day

Another Big Star album? And not even the one that has that one good song. September Girls I think. This is one of those bands that I really want to like, but just can’t find a way. Last album we heard was pretty stinky, and with this title? Were members of the band warring over the titles “Third” and “Sister Lovers?” I would’ve added a “third” option; dissolve the band and pursue alternate life paths. Another day, another ray of proverbial sunshine. Please let the Big Star be merciful, for the big star in our system yields to none. Kizza Me - I want to annoy the band and pronounce this like “Pizza.” Actually, let’s just call this song “Pizza Man.” Pizza Man is a bad song with bad performances and bad lyrics. That’s my professional writing. 3 word repetitions per sentence or your money back. What’s that? I didn’t repeat words last sentence? We’ll have you paid me any money? Jeez. bookings@alfisasexualbeing.gov Thank You Friends - Well, don’t count me among your friends if this is going to be your output. Big Black Car - What is this? What am I listening to? Will continuing to ask unanswerable questions render me satisfied that my writing is acceptable? I don’t know, I don’t know, and probably not. Femme Fatale - Imagine reimagined for the late 70’s. Is this a cover? It might be a cover. Man, I really just don’t care about this album. The playing is whatever and the vocals aren’t doing it for me. Holocaust - Hey, we’ve covered kissing and sedans, so let’s dive into a light topic. This should be handled with tact by “Big Star,” on their album “Sister Lovers.” I will hand it to this song, it sounds modern as anything. Almost has a Radiohead quality, with some of the odd instrumental choices. I kind of like this track. Unfortunately, listing “holocaust” as a “highlight” might flag some well-intentioned censorship programs. Stroke it Noel - Umm. Uhhh. This was interminable. Truly awful. For You - Oh man, we’re getting close to later indie songwriting again. Elliot Smith type sound. I mean, it’s still not good, but it’s closer to the direction I’d like to hear. And YES, I hear directions, I have BRAIN ISSUES, PROBLEM, LIBERAL? Nightime - That word with out the extra “t” is so strangely awful, that I can’t quite explain the misery it conjures. I also hate it here, and wish someone would get me out. Blue Moon - This song is so depressing. I like songs about depression every once in a while, but when it hits the wrong way, it is just experiencing depression, which is uhh not good. Take Care - Holy shit, we’ve changed song? I am in a restless sleep. I hate this. Nature Boy - A cover of a song by a hippie. I got into a rabbit hole a little bit with the hippies on Wikipedia. Interesting connection between German immigrants and the flower power movement of the 60s. Who knew? Presumably, a lot of you, but I didn’t. Anyway, this performance sucks and I don’t think I love the song that much either. Till the End of the Day - Summer stretches over the fields of refuse. Unimpeded solar beams irradiate dying earth. The garbage stockpiles overflow sickening mulch into streams once bountiful. The march of progress yields no ground to the thought of future life. Solar flares light up the skies. The weak are the first to fall. Galvanize the rhetoric. The weak fell, the strong shall succeed. While the carbon has changed, the sun is a solid eternity. Strong and weak, the Big Star suffers no foe. Uncaring blasts of life, boil the oceans as the skin of our strongest bubbles to muck. Healing has begun. Dream Lover - Yeah this sucks too. I’m reading some “tea” as the gays said, and now the young people repeat. This may be intentionally bad. Now that’s one RYM reviewer. The band themselves say that the only reason Big Star is behind this album is because of the label. It should’ve been A solo release, and better yet, it should’ve been kept contained. This album feels like being depressed in the summer or experiencing a negative response to drugs. Take a negative response to drugs, add in a depressive episode in August, mix with some horrible vocal narration you didn’t ask for, and that is Big Star’s third effort. You can take your critical acclaim and uh do something with it. I politely disagree. 0.5-1 HIGHLIGHTS: Holocaust (The song, you Psychos)

NO. Why? This is the third time I’ve had to endure this moron, and now I get a concept album about the state of Nebraska? He was done appealing to the dementia candidates who remember tv shows about the 50s as their childhood, so now? Let’s get serious about FARMERS. Yeah, that oughta sell some records. While I hate this man, and believe that any of his criticisms of America are so veiled, and he is so interwoven into mainstream culture that he is a paragon of the very thing he is supposedly criticizing, I should take a step back. This could be uhh good. I’m sorry. I couldn’t even type that without laughing. You may proceed. One album closer to never having to hear him again. Nebraska - Jesus, turn that shit down. Each and every lyric is a complete fabrication in order to exploit uneducated record buyers and concert attendees in a brand new region. The song had a likeable melancholy to begin with and I can’t believe I’m saying that, but when you examine how disingenuous this is, and you continue to hear the increase in bravado, you understand that this is another Bruce Springsteen project. Atlantic City - They blew up chicken man in Philly last night. RIP chicken man. Not sure why the police needed to explode this eccentric hobo, but I suppose it wouldn’t even be the craziest thing to happen in America this week. His background vocals sound like the former occupant of the body that this soulless alien now occupies, screaming from beyond the void. Oh this is going to be a harmonica album, hey? Perfect. Why did he switch regions?? Careful Bruce, you don’t want to startle your new, impressionable fan base. Mansion on the Hill - ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. We did America things in America and drove around and had a car that we drove in and my daddy was there and other family members were also in the car and there was stuff we did and looked at and there were cars and did I mention daddy BUY THE NEW ALBUM 19.99 BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN PLAYS LINCOLN NEBRASKA BUY TICKETS NOW corn fields and lookin at stuff with my dad in cars and trucks and also farms and trucks REPENT AND TURN EYES SKYWARD TO FALLING ANGELS FOR THE DAY OF JUDGEMENT HAS DAWNED and I loved driving around with daddy in cars and we had chevys and fords and we love corn. Johnny 99 - More “relatable” content. Let’s talk about the music. The vocals are needlessly dramatic and the guitar riff is a lame 50’s ripoff and it sounds incredibly thin and lame. I think it’s so lazy to say “oh well he’s making a comment on how the working class has to turn to crime.” Just say you like his dumb voice. There are literally thousands of artists who have made this statement and similar ones in a more direct fashion with better music. Highway Patrolman - I know why it bothers me so much. Let me paint you a picture. I’m a white male who grew up in the suburbs in Canada. Imagine I take on the task of writing songs about the plight of the migrant worker. Or imagine, if you will, I pen an epic about the challenges I’ve personally experienced being indigenous. Sure, it’s not true, but dang it, I just feel like I want to. THEN, imagine the songs are HORRIBLE. Just rancid vocals, poor instrumental choices and lame lyrics to accompany my fraudulent message. Disgusted? Good. Now, to finish it off. Imagine that people think I’m a brave poet who details the struggle of these groups better than anybody else could because I have depression and play 3 hour concerts. If you’re not climbing a bell tower, you at least understand how I feel about Bruce Springsteen. State Trooper - Parody of yourself. Used Cars - Yes, you’ve “used” the cars in your lyrics too many times. BARF. This is pathetic. Blatant pandering. I do think rich people should use their platform for good. Nothing wrong with having more and trying to help others. Especially through political activism. This is the opposite. This is performance. And a bad one at that. Exploitation of the highest order. Open All Night - This song conjures the image of a MAGA hat levitating and glowing like a satanic entity in liminal space. My Father’s House - Was this somehow written by AI? New prompt idea for the LinkedIn psychopaths; write a song that will make guys who wear pit vipers and punisher logo t shirts feel like it’s ok to be emotional. Make sure you can sell it in middle America. Reason to Believe - hahahah the fake accent. I am literally an alien. Who likes this? Show me. Speak to me. Contact me. This is valueless and I can’t imagine a human soul who believes otherwise. This one? This one’s for the farmers. The do it your self ers. The get out and get it done-ers. This one is for getting your hands dirty, and for keeping your flag clean. For god, for country, and? For family. We here at Jizz automotive want to make sure you have a vehicle for whatever WORK you need DONE. Jizz; life comes at you fast. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Bruce Springsteen’s net worth is a reported 1.2 billion dollars.

Finally, I can say this really is literally, 1984. It’s not just because I got thrown out the YMCA for plugging in my hot dog roller near the pool. How am I supposed to swim without my farm fresh dogs gently rolling next to the pool? I ask you sincerely. It’s the only thing I know. Let’s get another album on the go as j near the end of another scintillating week of wishing I wasn’t working and dreading work. 1984- Intro. Perhaps January in the year that was 1984. Nothing much going on. Jump - I kind of hate this song now. It’s just been too much. I’ve never like the radio friendly synth stabs that carry this thing. Once we get the bands namesake involved on guitar it gets a little better, but this isn’t the strongest output Van Halen has. Looking forward to improving past here. Panama - Once we turn the battered first page of this album you get the much more exciting “Panama.” A song that probably should’ve kicked off the album. Overplayed? Absolutely. You can’t deny that it still goes very hard. Top Jimmy - The top Jimmy? We talkin’ Carter? I’d say that’s accurate. Cool intro, kind of a lame track. Drop Dead Legs - Damn. Such a heavy intro. Meanders a small amount but honestly a pretty fun song for the subject matter. Thumbs up. Hot For Teacher - This is pretty much the perfect party hard rock song. It absolutely rips. Takes you everywhere, almost veers into heavy metal territory and somehow charted. I’ve said it before, the general populace glugs down so much smelly garbage music, that when a real decent song breaks through, it has to be special. Undeniable. And hey, at least it’s not talking about schoolgirls. Flip that creepy old trope on its head. The slow breaks back into the speed are absolutely electrifying. I’ll Wait - Ah see when they leave the guitar behind, I’m just not interested. It’s schizophrenic. This could’ve been a Duran Duran song without the sweet guitar solo near the end. I’ll be damned if it isn’t catchy though. Girl Gone Bad - Man that twang-y riff over the chorus rules HARD. Bass all over the place. Not my favourite song either, but some pretty gnarly elements. House of Pain - Did the rapper/rap group get everything from this album? Jump? Oh it was Jump around. Jump was child rap group “KrisKross.” Anyway. Who cares. Decent close. More guitar virtuosity. I imagine if you were some teenager in 1984, where you lived in Los Angeles or some beach town and enjoyed driving down the street with your friends, this is the kind of thing where you’d throw on and feel like you were the king of the god damn world. As a boring adult in 2025 who likes the cold, this didn’t hit THAT hard. I will say though, when this thing kicked into gear, boy howdy did it ever rip. Too much filler to really put it over the edge, but a rock solid output from Van Halen here. Hey, I wonder where that baby is now. It’s an illustration? There wasn’t really a live angel baby in studio smoking Marlboro Reds? Hollywood is a sham. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Panama, Hot for Teacher

Album 228. What a meaningless milestone. I anticipated that this album would come along further down the line than it has. My dad recently asked me to listen to this album. You know how that goes. It’s easy for me to come on here and trash albums that I have no personal attachment to, but a familial recommendation?? That takes on a different context. I listened to this album about a month ago and found it to be unbearable by the end; however, since then, the songs have come through individually and have been quite enjoyable. All this boring preamble to say, I have heard this, so hopefully second time is the charm. I hated HIS dad’s record (Tim Buckley), but will MY dad come through with the solid recommendation? Stay tuned folks. Mojo Pin - The atmosphere is so strong here. Excellent vocals. A really compelling track. Somehow the pretension is quelled as this feels genuine in the face of a voice I’d be tempted to hate. Grace - This a bizarre track and I think in the best possible way. It just goes everywhere. That addictive warble on the chorus, and the extended “freakoutro” (™️) tie up a song that sounds like ascending from purgatorial anguish to the afterlife. Last Goodbye - We’re getting more radio friendly on this one. There are still interesting musical choices and that riff is pretty good, but this one wouldn’t be out of place playing quietly in a tanning salon. Not a full on miss, especially with the beautiful little close, but not a hit. Lilac Wine - See, don’t say “put my heart in its recipe.” It’s gripping, and for a song that every opportunity to be painful to listen to, it really never verges into that territory. Yes, there was one mildly cringeworthy lyric, but this moves along nicely. So Real - This guitar riff almost sounds like Slint. HOLY SWEET HELL that guitar solo and buzzing bass. Fucking Christ. This song is a juggernaut. Hallelujah - The Lenny Cohen hour. Sure, it’s overplayed, and everybody thinks it’s beautiful, but sometimes things are evergreen. This is a beautiful song, and it’s performed absolutely incredibly here. Moving. Lover, You Should’ve Come Over - Are we pronouncing lover and over the same way here? Really quirked up now. I don’t think he will. Whatever. Love whatever instrument that is at the start. That’s cool. I lack the musical knowledge or access to the general vocabulary to describe the shifts in guitar tone that make this song interesting. It’s almost undulating like the genesis of waves. Gently rocking the listener, but also producing an uneasiness that keeps your interest throughout. Corpus Christi Carol - His voice is insane. It’s way beyond what you’d expect from an album labelled “pop/rock.” Damn near operatic. Beautiful song. And to think I expected a departure into hoedown music detailing the best hootenannies to be had in that Texas town. Eternal Life - I don’t want to be anything other than what I’ve been tryna be lately. Sorry. I won’t invoke that disgustingly horrible song while THIS riff plays. Where does this shit come from? When that bass hits, good lord. Yeah this goes hard. From medieval opera dirge, to driving modern rock. We’ve got something brewing here. Dream Brother - Hey Dream brother. We have the same dream. I’ve made a lot of “enjoying music” rules. Maybe there are no rules. Promise a million times you’ll never do another rule. Forget Her - Some chill white guy blues?? Why am I even enjoying that?? What is wrong with me? Am I being seduced by the evils of white guy blues?? If they keep playing guitar like that, then I’ll be setting up residency at the hard rock cafe in no time. Context is king. Music is not meant to be fully experienced upon first listen. If it is, then that’s usually what clogs up the charts until the golden plunger descends, flushing out the top 40, only to be followed closely by another pile of palatable refuse. The stuff that sticks around forever is the challenging stuff. I still stand by my 1s, my harsh reviews, but I acknowledge that if something is to grow on me, it needs time to do so. If I would’ve rated this album a month ago, I would’ve slapped a 2 on it and resumed my thousand yard stare towards the Britpop/new wave album that will assuredly be accosting me tomorrow morning. With time and a sympathetic ear, I am blown away. This is high art that scratches any intellectual itch you may have whilst also appealing to base humanity in such a vulnerable way. I don’t get the stench of “this is meaningful because he died young.” I expected that coming in, but this stands on its own. Highly influential to all of your favourite artists and very, very impactful on second listen. Worth every second of my attention and one that will assuredly get richer with time. 4.5-5 HIGHLIGHTS: Mojo Pin, Grace, So Real, Hallelujah, Eternal Life

The critic’s darling of the Yes catalogue. The British 2112. Or is 2112 the Canadian “Close to the Edge?” The year is 1972 which has already delivered like 25 albums. Do you think we’ll be this obsessed with 2025 in 2078? Will I be alive in 2078? Will the planet be habitable in 2078? A whole lot of digits in there, and now dread of the existential variety is colouring my Tuesday morn. Yes, whisk me away to a simpler time. Before women could have credit cards, and when the lack of cell phones had serial killers putting up generational numbers. Huh. Maybe every time has been plagued with issues. Close to the Edge - Oh this puppy is gonna be long. Almost 20 minutes of prog rock ahead of us before we reach track 2. I have my 16 sided die ready to roll. Rolling a solid god damn 5 right now. This musicianship is insane. Oh no. The reggae break is so unnecessary. Why does every white man insist on “taking it to Kingston?” For a song that started so well, this trailed off into lame territory for me. And You and I - More reggae in parts. The bass is the MVI for this band. Is MVI some sort of medical acronym? I should’ve paid more attention in community college. I would imagine my writing is evidence enough of that epiphany. Anyway, this song was fine. Siberian Khatru - What a cool song title that is immediately let down by gentle singing. A cosmic closer that is kind of schizophrenic in A three song album. Crazy. Anyway, the bass on this record hovers around me like a biblically accurate angel, embodying dizzying complexity, whilst also swaddling me in comforted bliss. The singer is like a hyperactive child attempting to remove me from my trance by shouting “watch me watch me. I can sing lamely.” If this was an instrumental album we may be approaching 5 stars. Yes’ strength isn’t in songwriting, but rather their bold and fascinating instrumental ideas that truly embody the “progressive” part of prog rock. This album was ok. Too many songs getting in the way of some incredible instrumental music. And I know I’m fifty years too late, but I plead with the white boys of the world. Please stop the ska/reggae madness. Close to Edge was good, not great and maybe that’s why this review was so boring? Who knows. On to the next. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Yes and No.

More Nick Drake! The second three-peat in the last two days. I really love delivering meaningless statistics to my readership which is entirely accidental. Hopefully, somebody has been brought here in an attempt to geolocate me for my hatred of Bruce Springsteen and they’re taken aback at the general low quality of the rest of the opinions. Imagine that, a Bruce Springsteen fan who can use a computer?? Anyway, we’re here to talk about someone with artistic merit. A man who in just a few years would drop Pink Moon. An album that has grown on me further in recent months. I was disappointed with Bryter Layter as it lacked the stripped back atmosphere of the artist’s final record. Where will this “leave” us? And with that “joke,” we begin another Nick Drake release. Time Has Told Me - I am holding my breath and waiting for overbearing drums or dumb stabs of piano. Alright, well we have some country influence, but it really works. This is a classic Nick Drake track with a few interesting flourishes. Sweet song. River Man - The mysterious river man is always a great topic of conversation. You never really know the naked guy screaming in the Saint John river until you SPEAK to him. Three Hours - HELL yeah. Listen to that standup bass. Double bass. Listen. I don’t know stuff, I just know string vibrate nice and this song = good. Way to Blue - Way to blow it stripes. Is that exclusively a Canadian thing? Calling referees “stripes?” As my “athletic” career winds to a close due to being “big boned,” I can only reminisce on the days of hockey that preceded me. The violin here is so unnecessary. While the previous few songs were more reminiscent of my favourites from Nick Drake, this was a foray into the mediocre. Day Is Done - The day is done when I say it’s done. Why am I being so combative with poor Nick. He’s just a sensitive lil English fellow. Maybe that’s why. It’s my Scottish blood vehemently ejecting this record. This song is fine. An improvement from the last track; but still too much going on. ‘ Cello Song - Perfect. I’ve already lamented the inclusion of too many instruments, and now eye getting extra superfluous and spelling it out in the track title. Well actually this one was pretty good. Way to throw me off the scent, gang. Do you think there was any gang drama during the studio sessions. Thoughts of Mary Jane - Oh yeah. Gangster confirmed. Singing sensitive man ballads and ripping the dab rig nonstop. Cleanest way to get high. Man in a Shed - Between the river man and the shed man, we’re getting a full hobo concept album. Did the vinyl copy come in a limited edition bindle? Maybe with green tartan to tie the package together. Fruit Tree - This is fine. I'm kind of not as high on it for some reason. I was flying on a fucking cloud after the studio Mary Jane hobo sessions, so there was only one way down. Saturday Sun - This sounds like a pretty sad track for a topic that makes a lot of people happy. Classic fellow melancholic soul. Although I think this is Nick Drake at his happiest to be fair. He sounds glowing. Seeing as this is probably the last Nick Drake effort we’ll have presented to us I feel like I need to sum everything up. This was the perfect middle ground between the disappointing “Bryter Layter” and the ingenious “Pink Moon.” I like the additional instrumental touches on this record a lot as they don’t insist on being front and centre and accompany Nick Drake’s distinctive voice beautifully. This album was highly enjoyable as was the entire catalogue from this interesting individual. I suppose I’ll have to eat my words if there is some mystery album that I don’t know about, but seeing as I’m in the hobo mindset, the promise of a nice word meal puts my mind at ease. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Time Has Told Me, Three Hours, Man in a Shed

Looking very Gen Z here, fellas. Between this old-timey aesthetic and the album title, this feels way more modern than it is for some reason. The performative male manipulator in your gentrified uptown aspires for this “vibe” every time he performatively stares at the same pages of infinite jest on the streetcar. In reality, the people in the foreground were probably born in the 19th century. Time really does fly. I speak as though I fondly remember the 60’s. Hell, I don’t think I’d fondly remember them even if was around. Anyway, uhhh I loved the last Fairport Convention album. Medieval music for the Woodstock era. Flower children living amongst the trebuchets of dark ages England. Will it hit as hard this go round? Tune that lute baby, we’ve got an acid freakout to attend. Genesis Hall - Oh buddy. We’re off to a FLYER. Listen to that guitar. Insane. I love the vocals here too. Solid start. Si Tu Dois Partir - If this wasn’t just ripping off the Acadian culture, I’d be having a hoe down, Dieppe style. Right off the east coast of Canada. Autopsy - Now we’re getting jazz/blues on a song called Autopsy. I’m overjoyed. Dizzying basslines under haunting vocals. This is light years ahead of its time but also so adherent to the classic blues sound. This song goes everywhere and I’m strapped in for that right. Hell, I might be strapped ON. A Sailor’s Life - Oh yeah, now we’re getting mournful about the sea. What more can you want? 11 minute song and I’m thrilled about it. Oh my sweet lord. That riff at around 7 minutes has blown my intestines out. I have been disemboweled. Cajun Woman - Acadians mentioned. This is like the tenth genre introduced. Decent track. Who Knows Where the Time Goes? - A foray into serenity. Gentle music with the same haunting vocals I love from this band. Is it Sandy Denny? I could google this but I need my throngs of rabid fans to get in touch and tell me. Actually, please don’t contact me, I’m already inundated with job offers and need my space. Percy’s Song - Percy Pringle tribute. Paul Bearer shall rest in eternal peace thanks to the this prehumous tribute. Fuck this bad boy might have been prenatal for ol Percival. Very enjoyable song. Million Dollar Bash - Oh no. Let the woman sing again. Get off the mic fella. There we go. That was scary. This would be a bog standard rock song if not for the guitar note choices. Punched myself in the face with my fist is a BAR and I now love this song. This band can do no wrong. Wow. This was so enjoyable. Fairport Convention is anything but “conventional,” but they do sound like they might be at home at some sort of convention that nerds descend upon. One of the ones where they need to hand out deodorant en masse. I don’t know that this album changed anything on a grand scale, but it certainly challenged norms at every turn while also producing an album that is just so fun. Much like eating a fancier brand of pizza, this thing is complex, yet digestible. See how cultured I am. Sign me up for the Fairport Convention. I’ll be purchasing the weekend pass. 4.5-5 HIGHLIGHTS: Genesis Hall, Autopsy, A Sailor’s Life, Percy’s Song

I’ve delayed this long enough. The Friday album can be a tough sell. I know I won’t get another one til Monday, so if it appears to be a stinker sometimes it linger until Monday. When I get what appears to be an electronics album that played in malls in 1998? You best believe that puppy is still sitting pretty on Monday morn, 8 am sharp. French music. Allons-nous. La femme d’argent - Meh. I kind of thought this would be straight dance music, so the funky little organ solo is fun. There are certainly elements I can enjoy here, but the bones of the song have just bored me thus far. This is lame. Sexy Boy - Shawn Michaels theme? No. Oh god. It’s somehow worse than that. I wondered to myself how long it would take for me to get mad at this album. I somehow knew repetition was on the cards and by gum, here we are. This is like when your younger sibling keeps making the same noise on a road trip. I have rediscovered petulant, juvenile rage. All I Need - Whoa! Beth Hirsch!!! Household name. Wow. As I attempt to regain my composure after the shock of this electrifying celebrity cameo, I ponder the “artistic” movement of lame background music featuring female vocalists with heavy accents. Maybe it was fresh in 1998, but now? Pretty trite. Kelly Watch the Stars - Well. You heard them. Kelly? Get on it. We need to identify one new star by the end of this shit. Considering that it’s never ending, you may be exploring the cosmos for awhile. Talisman - Why are there weird spiritual emojis coming up when I write “Talisman”and I can’t get a decent walrus emoji? This is the problem with the world. Too much white, co-opted spirituality and not enough big beefed up walruses covered in tusk wounds. Another problem with the world? Bad electronic music meant to be played performative on expensive record players in in-fills in gentrified areas of major cities. Remember - Fuck you. You Make it Easy - BAM! Beth is back everybody! If you love mediocre singing and hearing the saliva separate from the top of a person’s mouth, you’re going to love the Hirschster. Not my favourite personally, but hey, something for everyone. Ce matin-lá - Quiet everybody, if we don’t make a noise, maybe they’ll make some foreground music. I’m dozing off. New Star in the Sky - Holy shit, Kelly came through. That is what we in the business call a “call back.” Oh sorry, I must have had voice to text on. I’m training my call centre on a new gravy based scam. We start the old folks home circuit this afternoon and it’s crunch time. You get em interested in the envelope gravy, get em all riled up and then BAM. Hang up. Give it 15 minutes, call em back. Works every time. Le voyage de Pénélope - “Penelope’s trip” for the uninitiated. Come along and ride with me on a shambolic voyage. I see a lot of French reviews on this website. I try to read them for practice and I do alright. I admire the French for their attitudes towards wage slavery, their love of the arts, and their general passion as a society. Even in my country, the Quebecois and Acadian populations are some of the last holdouts in an increasingly Americanized Canada. This album, however? C’est dégoûtant malheureusement. If I never hear it again, I will consider myself a lucky man. Now where’s my walrus emoji? 1 HIGHLIGHTS: Lundi Lundi

There have been a myriad of accusations surrounding this album cover and I’d like to clear them up. People say that when this portrait was taken, Willie was inebriated. Sure, he looks at though he is gazing past our dimension into worlds beyond our comprehension, and yes, it appears that what he sees is a clear message of the reckoning that is to befall humanity, but I like to think he was just a little shy. Willie is a known teetotaller and wouldn’t dream of using a mind altering substance. Anyway, take it away ya big crazy nut. Time of the Preacher - Pretty sweet little song. I want to laugh about screaming like a panther, but that vocal melody is so catchy. Whoa. In the year of ‘01? Did Willie predict the US invasion of Iraq? I Couldn’t Believe it Was True - Better start believing, pal. Hell, I might start believing here. I love a good folk song about some hussy breaking the poor narrator’s heart. Nobody says hussy anymore. Shame. Time of the Preacher Theme - Well, we’re back. I wish I was making this up. Pretty funny concept, genuinely. Medley: Blue Rock Montana/Red Headed Stranger - Another simple folk song that feels like I’ve heard it before. In a nice way, not in a repetitive garbage way. For a medley, it’s pretty damn short. Willie doesn’t get paid by the hour. Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain - This is probably the worst song so far. No huge slight against it, but it’s just more of the same, and feels sappier than some of the other stuff. Too modern. Red Headed Stranger - Man. Wasn’t this part of the medley? What the hell is this track list? This is a weird song. Apparently the lesson is to not try to steal horses from the red headed stranger or he will kill you and walk away without punishment. Isn’t Willie supposed to be the red headed stranger? Whatever. Moving on. Time of the Preacher Theme - Short Version - Uhhhh? I am starting to question the sobriety of this man. Maybe he isn’t the staunch anti-drug pioneer I believed him to be. Just As I Am - BOOOOOOO. Denver - Ah yes, one of the world’s great metropolises (metropoli??) Denver. Do you wish to encounter altitude sickness AND roving gunmen? Come on up to Denver, they don’t call it the mile high city because of the mountains! Down Yonder - hoooooo weeee. I’ll take a sarsaparilla. Heavy on the parilla my good man. I am dying of tuberculosis - the musical. Can I Sleep in Your Arms - This is a sweet song. Today, masculinity has been boiled down to being a weird porn-brained loser who always has to be some borderline abusive dominator. It’s funny, because in the “good old days” when “men were men,” there were way more songs that had this kind of messaging. Atta boy Willie. Warrior for the smashing of bizarre, unattainable gender norms. Remember Me - A slightly less jaunty trip to the saloon. A fine song. Just fine. Hands on the Wheel - Yes, the world spins. WHOA BAR. Spinnin’ (Outta control) by Big Willie feat R.H. Strangers. Why don’t we give Stan a a turn with the wheel. Can’t hurt at this point. Good song. Bandera - A smooth instrumental closer. By smooth, I mean emotionally devastating. The inventor of Big Willie style™️ came to play on this one. By play, I mean bang out about three songs, throw in some outtakes and call it a day. Is this thing breaking any new ground? I don’t think so. Is it enjoyable? Besides the emotional weight of everything destroying my Monday morning, i can say it was pretty good. I think I’ll take a shot of your finest brandy, and think about a lonely desert plain where I wander like a lost desperado, searching for nothing in particular and finding much of the same. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: I Couldn’t Believe It Was True, Can I Sleep in Your Arms

Armenia’s pre-eminent nu-metal weirdos appear on my screen, and this feels out of left-field. I am just a touch too young to have been fully swept up in the nu-metal craze of the early 2000s, and when people were sardonically throwing around this band’s name due to tracks like “Chop Suey,” I avoided it as one should always avoid the recommendations of stoned 9th graders. In the years since, I have enjoyed some music from “SOAD” (strike me down for that r/music acronym) but don’t know how I’ll react to a full 40 minutes of their sound. Only one way to find out and other clichés. Suite-Pee - Taking a term of endearment and turning it into a phrase that conjures up a urine soaked hotel room takes a special eye. I do love hearing riffs during these reviews. Feels so rare. Excellent breakdown here too. Know - These people are insane. The riffs just dive up and down around these bizarre vocals. This sounds like a schizophrenic preacher’s final recorded thoughts before the meds kick in. The song meanders more than the previous, but it still rips pretty good. Sugar - A CLASSIC. Check out the music video for this one. Jeeeesus. The spoken word sections, the lyrical freefall into insanity, and the voice breaking. This is unbelievable. Suggestions - I love the insane vocals here. This feels entirely unique although I’m missing the riffs here a little bit. Spiders - This is exactly like being sad in middle school. The teacher assigned me homework but Tony Hawk’s Underground 2 just came out. Will I ever see the sun set on this agony I feel within my soul? DDevil - This one kind of passed me by a little bit. Sad to say. Soil - This is a guitar heavy “S song.” I was kind of bored by the noodle guitar, but then that dissonant polka breakdown came in and I was back. Whole lotta swearing and angry riffs. You can see why this took the nation’s drywall punchers by storm. War? - Yeah war is real bad. Always top of mind lately as the world seems to further crumble into conflict and ecological distress. I suppose humans have fought over whatever for eons. The reason to kill must be approved by man’s god. Doesn’t get more clear than that. Mind - Sick bass intro interrupted by strange lovesick poetry? Hey. What else did you expect? Oh god, then a borderline death metal riff? In this economy? Too many question marks. One of the more bizarre songs and one of the best so far. Peephole - Seamlessly faded into from the previous ode to mental instability, we get what sounds like a field recording of a raving hobo. Then of course, hard polka. The lyrics here might be above my head, but they feel silly rather than interesting. The song itself is interesting enough, but the lyrics are distracting here. Don’t ask me about my mermaids, Serj. CUBErt - This reminds me of my buddy Cubert and that time a burgeoning nu-metal band wrote a song about him. Really lifted his spirits in the face of being named “Cubert.” Cube the Pube they called him. His mother thought, “Hey, Regis Philbin is successful,” but Cubert looked particularly cumbersome on that Dollarama name tag. Darts - With this track being called “Darts” and starting with “May I please,” I thought I was being asked for smokes by the world’s most polite burnout. P.L.U.C.K. - I have nothing intelligent to say. I believe they’re speaking about the Armenian genocide, but I need to do more research there. Of course, by “research,” I mean skimming Wikipedia. This is just so unique. The vocal breaks that indicate completely unbridled emotion are the basis of what is a dizzyingly angry release. System of a Down may occasionally be pegged as proprietors of nonsense, but they prove in their debut that there not to be trifled with, and silly guys get angry too. Put that on an instagram t shirt that will occupy a landfill in two months. See? The world sucks, which makes it all the more important that we have music like this to match the growing disdain for our rulers. One of the progenitors of the often bastardized nu-metal genre produced a moment of purity on this record that simply could not be matched by future participants in the genre. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Suite-Pee, Sugar, War?, Mind

Warning. This is not a drill. Hey. It’s a 5. I don’t need to write jack shit about this album. Not a word. I will, because I’m an insufferable wind bag, but I don’t need to. It’s perfect in every way. It’s the invention and perfection of a genre in one single bound. It sounds like rage incarnate boiled in a terrifying, psychedelic cauldron where it is cooled, shaped into a monstrous spectre and let loose on the unsuspecting populace. Oh I would like to take this moment to send a big “fuck you” to people who breathe the names of other bands when discussing early metal music. If you listened to Paranoid and found that it reminded you of so much as “Smoke on the Water,” or Led Zeppelin, you are a musical moron. And that’s coming from ME. You only get to press play on perfect albums so many times in this life. I will relish in this moment. War Pigs - One of the greatest songs of all time. I don’t know if it’s incredible or just deeply depressing that the lyrics hit the same today as they would’ve back then, but either way, this is a disgustingly vile vocal line with sickening lyricism. Those lyrics contain imagery cool enough to be a bitchin’ mural on the side of a van whilst also boldly attacking the sociopaths that send the terrified poor to kill eachother in the name of meaningless advancement. The heaviness of this song, the riffs, the sentiment, the vocal performance are all completely untouchable. Paranoid - I can’t believe this song is as popular as it is. It’s just so heavy and aggressive. This is 1970, people. How the hell did this escape into the mainstream? Planet Caravan - Even the psychedelic break absolutely rips. It’s enough to induce emotion. Iron Man - I wasn’t alive in 1970. Imagine playing this on your parents turntable. The call to the exorcist would be made as soon as the needle hit vinyl. JESUS. This song is like Enter Sandman in terms of popularity but these riffs man. Evil incarnate. Electric Funeral - I remember these lyrics blowing my god damn mind as a 12 year old. I mean this whole album is just incredibly tough lyrically, but you mix “dying world of radiation” and “eyes melting to blood” with this disgusting wah drenched riff? I was hooked for life. Hand of Doom - This track was a sleeper discovery around the same time in my life. The quiet bass intro through my shitty 2008 earbuds start tricked my ear into thinking the song hadn’t started. Of course I would proceed to be repeatedly bludgeoned about the head and face with this riff and lyrical content. Rat Salad - When I’m loving a jam song, something has happened. I’ve either sustained brain damage, or this is the greatest album of all time. I wouldn’t rule out either possibility at this point. Jack the Stripper / Fairies Wear Boots - The opening to this sounds like a pre-game hype song for a 90’s basketball team. That is a slightly odd left turn, but eventually we make our way into the main meat of this song. More incredible bass and guitar work as I am more and more inclined to believe the tale that fairies do indeed wear boots. Ozzy Osbourne just passed away, so I assume this album was put here for that reason, unless it’s just incredible serendipity. His performance on this album is other worldly and his contributions to metal music from the early Black Sabbath period are unquestionable. He could’ve retired the day this album came out and he’d still be one of the greatest to ever do it. As far as the rest of the band, Tony Iommi’s riffs are absolutely disgusting. It’s a rare skill to play a guitar with soul and he has it in spades. Geezer Butler and Bill Ward form a colossus of a rhythm section that is single-handedly responsible for the heavy metal genre and each album that followed. Please do not get it twisted. Black Sabbath invented this genre and on the back of “Paranoid” have remained miles ahead of everybody for decades. THE Heavy metal record. THE Doom metal record. Absolutely perfect. 5 HIGHLIGHTS: War Pigs, Paranoid, Planet Caravan, Iron Man, Electric Funeral, Hand of Doom

Don’t mention Nirvana challenge: Impossible. Three words in baby. New record. Let’s get this out of the way. I definitely think that the depressed drug addict who was actively suicidal was in fact, murdered. Classic scenario. It’s the perfect crime. Anyway. Time for some Hole. Wait, that didn’t come out right. Time to dive into Hole. Fuck. This isn’t working out for me. Let’s uhh listen to this band. Celebrity Skin - Any song that was in Rockband immediately got fried into my brain as a Rockband song. It’s a certain feel. Trying to listen to it as a normal song. It’s too hard, I can still see the word “slut” flashing across my parent’s TV before my 12 year old eyes. This is their hit, and it’s pretty good. Awful - Well the review of this track writes itself doesn’t it? Go ahead. Start writing. Ugh. Anyway, this song reminds me of Avril Lavigne. That’s not something I would consider a positive. This would “slap” if I was a 16 year old girl in 1998. For now, I can only thank my lucky stars that wasn’t the case. Hit So Hard - Now the songs are lying. This song does not hit hard. It “goes hard on mute” as the unfunny nerds on the internet regurgitate. Wait a second I just regurgitated it uhhh. Well. There’s your confirmation. Malibu - Where is the edge? No, that isn’t a flat-earther takedown, but rather a plea to Courtney et al for some roughness to the music. I beg of you. Oh there’s a little growl. The music is just so weak here. Bleh. Reasons to be Beautiful - Finally a riff that contains something. The previous few tracks were severely lacking iron. Anemia was setting in. Get them a steak posthaste. We’ve got something in this track. This one grooves pretty hard. Very simple rock song with a dose of that punk lethargy of the 90s. Dying - This chorus/entire song was pretty obnoxious and I kind of hated it. Makes me pine for Obituary’s version of the song (it’s a different song). Use Once & Destroy - We’ve returned to the “boring songs” portion of the album. Very controversial of them to include boring songs. Perhaps a statement against the state of modern music at the time. No? They intended this to be a good album? Oh. Northern Star - Ughh this one is killing me. Maybe she did do it. Boys on the Radio - This is so dull. Just another three chord rock song but with this gross sort of melody. Heaven Tonight - Is this going to be another one that is tinged with radio accessible sadness? This rips a riff from Spirit of the Radio, and is again, pretty boring. I don’t think I’m the target audience here. Not offensive, but so middling. Playing Your Song - Solid song. Trying to save this thing near the end. Good to hear a little more vitriol. The riff kind of sounds like that one song I remember from “Disney Skate Adventure,” which is a wild pull. I played a lot of video games as a child. Petals - What a sleepy closer. We get a hey ey ey ey reprisal to close this sucker out, but referencing an earlier, better track won’t save this puppy. Man this was not as vibrant as I expected. Sure, vibrant might be the wrong word but Celebrity Skin was just so listless. It used that slacker energy to its advantage a few times, but mostly they just seemed to put very little effort into the riffs and it felt like the whole thing was just to fulfill a label requirement. Very little about this felt urgent. The lyrics were obviously very dense (in a good way) and spoke to some genuine emotion, but the actual music was not great for too much of this. Back into the hole, ladies. Time is money and we’re running dry on both. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Celebrity Skin, Reasons to be Beautiful, Playing Your Song

Too often the opening of this browser is followed by an exasperated sigh. It just escapes from me. The additions to this list in the years since the original book’s release have caused me great pain thus far. From that Beyoncé greatest (s)hits fiasco, to a Taylor Swift record, now we move to the most indie coded of the pop princesses, Lorde. I don’t care about this. I could go my whole miserable life without hearing another Lorde song and fade into the nether realm without batting an eye. There are so many games to play, books to read, things to do. But sure, let me spend 40 minutes listening to a pop album in order to satisfy my completionist mind. With an introduction reminiscent of a disgruntled court jester, you may take the stage your Lordeship. I shall slink off with my shoe bells jingling softly. Green Light - Oh I’ve heard this before. This was a horrible era for music. This plays quietly before a work presentation in a local playhouse that you have to go to. Red light. Sober - I wish I wasn’t. That was a long song. Whoa. That was weird for a second. Now it’s like the Zootopia theme song except evil. More songs about dancing. Oh Gawhawd moy hawart. Why does she sing this way? Homemade Dynamite - Napoleon Dynamite. I need to watch that movie again, but I feel like it holds up. It’s a brand of millennial humour, but I think it’s aged well. Who knows? Maybe I can try to replay it in my head to dissociate from this album. The Louvre - Why is this song named after an art museum despite featuring the repeated refrain of “broadcast the boom boom boom and make ‘em all dance to it.” I think I just spit up a little bit. Liability - I’m sure this is very meaningful to Lorde. The words seem well crafted but they don’t speak to me. Why would they? Hard Feelings/Loveless - Hey, I like the part with no vocals! That’s something. Great. Unfortunately everything else stays mired in the same stench as the preceding tracks. Oh good, it switched into one of the worst songs I’ve ever heard. Sober II (Melodrama) - Lorde, we need a title track. Can’t it just be that second sober song? Uhh I guess that’ll have to do. For both a track review and a bit. Writer in the Dark - Who cares? Supercut - SuperCard of Honor. That’s what she’s saying, right? Let’s watch classic ROH instead of listening to this. Great idea. Gotta find that match between Danielson and that big Morishima guy. Liability(Reprise) - We don’t need a reprise. At all. We need a reprieve, but a reprise? Never. Perfect Places - Gelatinous mass looms. The nourishing sunlight blocked ushering a sickening chill. Screams are cut off by silence as the form glides into apocalyptic vision. A life form that should not be threatens bloodshot human eyes. Revolting proliferation of cells. The ultimate malignancy. No objective, no prisoners. A planet absorbed. A lifeless frost envelopes our besieged earth. A planet absorbed, all life vanquished. Yeah this sucked. Depressed, teenage girl breakup songs. Maybe early 20s. I am an old man at this point. At least this album made me feel that way. It’s funny that this album is everything Taylor Swift would end up doing for the next few years. Couldn’t she have copied something cool? Check out Chat Pile. Maybe sludgy noise core will be the next “era.” I’m done with this. Fuck corporate pop. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: HOIUGHHHLOIGHTS

Hey guys horns up from Australia. #MetalMonday. Errrm this looks like me before my morning coffee. Who’s ready to rock?! Alright. I can’t do it anymore. I have unleashed as much cringeworthy “pick me” content as I can muster and now it’s time to give Iron Maiden a fair shake. As a kid who gravitated towards the more gruff metal music, this band eluded me with the soaring vocals and melodic choruses. I am excited to see how this hits me now as the *ahem* open-minded music enjoyer I’ve become. Prowler - Great riff, especially with that bass line underneath. The vocals were always the part of Iron Maiden I couldn’t get behind, whether it’s this guy or Bruce Dickinson. There is just a bit of bite missing for me here. Not bad though. Remember Tomorrow - Remember? Tomorrow??? How can I ? Wait a second. You’re friggin with my mind, Iron. Is this the name of that Tom Cruise movie that I believe was on while I slept off a cold? Oh that was “Edge of Tomorrow.” This riff is a lot better than that was. Running Free - A decent song. There are riffs scattered in amongst this entire album that rule, but there is also a weakness in the vocals that I can’t shake. Phantom of the Opera - Fantastic intro. This leans on the instruments more and more and they go pretty hard. This is a solid track. Transylvania - Oh now we’re getting more metallic. The song title and the opening gallop. This feels like the Iron Maiden that I hoped existed beneath the layer of songs I didn’t quite get anything from. Sure, there are no vocals, and I’ve harped on that since the preview paragraph, but if the shoe fits… Strange World - Why does this album need a ballad? I’ll tell you, it doesn’t and this should be removed from the canon. Iron Maiden’s and music in general. Not for me. Charlotte the Harlot - uhh is this a late 90’s skate punk song? Oh god it kicks on from there. This is the dumbest song lyrically by far, but it rips pretty hard. Who am I to deny this drive? Ugh, at least until the emotional appeal to the woman you have been calling a “harlot” for the past two minutes. Not a bad track, but taken down by the lame lyrical content. Iron Maiden - There is something so satisfying about the triple name. The self-titled song on the self-titled record. Bliss. The song itself ain’t half bad either. This album is a lesson in Heavy Metal bass playing. In sayjng that that, There was some catching up to do from the rest of the band. This vocalist parting was best for everybody, and the beefing up of guitars will have to come around, or else future projects would suffer from the same hollow fate this album did. I’m not sure if it was the production, but this all felt so thin to me. There was an almost operatic feel to the entire album and I want that aesthetic far away from most of my music, especially metal. Iron Maiden’s maiden voyage didn’t provide much in the way of surprise, and didn’t quite break my perception of the giants of British Heavy Metal. Good, but not great, as I believe they have the potential to be. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Remember Tomorrow, Phantom of the Opera, Transylvania

Who? I am hoping and maybe even pleading with whichever deity is on shift right now that this isn’t R & B. I beg of you. Please be anything else. Spoken word. Chamber music. Unauthorized recordings of secretive monks. Anything. I’ll listen to a silent movie on tape over early 2000s Mary J. Blige music. Natural High (Interlude) - Great. This is going to suck. Hand me some meth. Better late than never. Dy-Na-Mi-Tee - Holy hell that beat is actually sick. Cue the bomb whistling noise aaaand there’s the explosion. Ugh. Get a good verse on this beat. This a Christian 11th grader’s creative writing project done over a rhythm that should be given to Nas or something. Anyway U Want It - Errm how about “off.” Thanks everyone. That joke was brought to you by the mind that brought you about 70 1 star reviews through 238 albums. I smell 71!! This song reeks. Put Him Out - Oh yeah buddy. Let’s get “guy learning a Santana lick from a book he got at guitar centre” on the track. We needed that intro. Oh it continues. Dump him girl. Fuck, can I go outside too? Brother - Let’s get another cliché in here. If we get a full fledged mom tribute song later on, I win a very lucrative bet. I kid the dear reader. I don’t gamble on generic early 2000s music. The dynamite family continues to build up to what I’m anticipating is a fully rancid album. It Takes More (Bloodshy Main Mix) - I’m kind of at a loss for words. I believe you can mark the deterioration of my brain in real time by the dwindling quality of these reviews. I don’t have anything to work with here either. The lyric, “cause baby, personally, I like to be challenged mentally” hit me in the worst context it could’ve. Not sure if anybody else hears that. Sick ‘n’ Tired - Listen buddy, did you think you could mess around on a bad rapper and NOT hear a lacklustre diss track about it? Yeah I didn’t think so. Strap in for such insults as “you kissy kiss it kiss it bye ooh nice try.”Good luck recovering from that one, pal. Be careful before you okay with dynamite. I literally think that line was missed on this track. Afraid 2 Fly - Yo, I gotta take Ativan if I fly, but if I sit in the aisle some of the anxiety is alleviated, yo yo uh. I find it hard to sleep on planes uh. It’s not the fear of crashing, but the enclosed space. I must go 2 the pharmacist a ha ha. Watch Over Them - Are you incapable of feeling embarrassment? Do you lack any discernible talent whatsoever? Can you do a forced Patois? Polydor records has an opening for a generic 2002 female rapper to sing platitudes about general strife but NOTHING SPECIFIC. If you meet this rigorous standards, please stop by the warehouse next to King’s wharf for your puffy hat and record deal. Sees Will Grow - Hey guys, listen up. The kids? Yeah, they’re our FUTURE. I’ve brought rap impresario, Ky-Mani Marley to tell you that the “yutes” are not to be messed with. Words to live by if you’ve suffered some sort of cranial damage. Krazy Krush - Excuse me Ms.? Hi, long time listener (it’s been two hours at this point right) first time medical questioner. If your blood won’t stop rushing, I would ask that you get off the stage and seek medical attention. If you do not seek medical attention, that is your choice, but the request to leave the stage must stand. Now U Want My Love - Ahh maybe this isn’t getting through because I’m not speaking in the “Little Deeper Lingo”. Yo Ms Di-Na-My-Tee pl3453 stop doing bad r3gga3. Wagwan, I’m g0ing 2 bl0w me brains out gurl. Gotta Let U Know - I am pulling my hair out. As you can probably tell from how I write, I can’t afford to lose anymore hair. The pain is the only reprieve. An island of sensation in this bleak ocean of desolation. Hey, look at me rapping! Sorry. There is no place for creative rhymes during the playing of “A Little Deeper.” All I Ever - Maybe the alternating breakup and love songs are about the same person. Who’s the lucky individual??? Love in the schizophrenia wing is always so beautiful. A Lil Deeper / Get Up Stand Up - Memo from Polydor: Hi Ms. we need an album closer. Try to include lyrics that are relatable. Include everything. Like, have you ever been in a relationship, maybe you haven’t? Have you done something bad? Maybe you’ve done a good deed? Really cover all the bases here. Uhh sorry that’s an American reference. Make it impossible to NOT relate to somehow. For the music, we’ll send in the Santana wannabe guy. He’s had a few lessons and he’s gotten a little better. Not much, but he’s cheap. Just make sure that people who rarely think, feel something on this one. We’re counting on you. Oh and there will be a secret track after the initial pap err I mean “deep emotional writing.” We’ll get you to sing a chorus for a rapper who is more talented than you but still sounds like a song they would write for a rap star character on an episode of CSI: Miami. Then, we’ll call up the folks at the mercury prize. I have a feeling it’ll be your year! This was awful. 2 many 2’s right from the year to the song titles. This is so very millennial and so overdone. I despise this type of music at its best, and this was some of the worst I’ve heard. This should be playing quietly over the end credits of a Rush Hour movie while the viewers at a sparsely attended showing shuffle out of the theatre. This may have meant something to the artist, but I doubt it, as it was all so surface level. Every lyric could’ve been written by anybody who hasn’t experienced anything negative ever. Endless platitudes about quasi-relatable issues over a Destiny’s Child instrumental. The rap beats became stale as they were entirely sterile and the fake reggae hurt my soul. U should b ashamed. Not 4 me 4 ever. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: No merciful god would endorse this

Isn’t this that coffee chain? Perhaps the cover is featuring one of the baristas (or baristos; it’s 2025 you asshat) breastfeeding their new catfish. Haters will say it’s a stuffed animal and even if it wasn’t, you can’t breastfeed a fish. Well I say you don’t understand how high we can fly. Get enough edibles in me and I, a pudgy cis male can give birth to a pygmy hippopotamus. You’ll never understand the power of the mind. Anyway. Here’s Tigermilk. The State I Am In - Arkansas uhhh Missouri uhhh things your couch might say uhhh Oregon *DING DING DINNG* YEAHHHHHH. Oh buddy. I’m going to like this one. Not because he’s introducing his child bride to alcohol, you sicko, but because it’s soft indie with nice songwriting. Expectations - What a jaunty lil tune. Sorry “chune.” I thought this was English, but my ancestors just screamed in terror as these plucky youngsters are fae Glasgow. This is another very very nice song and if I can shoehorn some in unnecessary nationalism in there as well? It’s a good day. She’s Losing It - Almost reggae. Oh god. This is too Jason Mraz to start. The lyrics are interesting, and the I actually kind of like the horns. They remind me of Neutral Milk Hotel. The first “meh” song. You’re Just a Baby - Listen, I know you want to drive my Pontiac Aztek, Ethan but you’re 3 years old. The second you got that faux-leather steering wheel in your grubby little mitts, I could see the flashes in your eyes. I can see the visions of making a particularly wide right turn due to the poor turning radius of that whale-esque frame. I can picture you waiting for the news at the mechanic that the Aztek has had most of its parts recalled. A powerful vision, but E. You’re just a baby. Leave the motoring to the big boys (me). Now hand me my driving hat. And put down that socket wrench. Uhh a decent song. Electronic Renaissance - Cooler than anything Daft Punk has ever done in less than a minute. Congratulations. The sounds are quite nice here. Suffering a little bit from repetition syndrome but overall, a minor case. Jolly good show! I Could Be Dreaming - This song is beautiful. Such interesting instrumentation and a subtly beautiful melody. Very of the time, but a pinnacle of the ideas attempted at that time. All this writing and I COULD be dreaming about a new pope deciding to overhaul the hat etiquette and ushering in a new offshoot of Catholicism that is entirely based on how ornate your hats can be. Always the type of dream I wake up from in a cold sweat. We Rule the School - I would imagine. As a kid often picked last in my impressionable youth, imagine if I got to go play sports against 4th graders now?? I’d mop the floor with those dorks. A nice song. Gentle. Engaging. Good work. My Wandering Days Are Over - This is as good a time as any to say that the lyrics on this album have been great. So odd and intriguing. I don’t even need lyrics to mean anything in particular. It helps. But if you have phrasing that sticks, or words that spur thought when placed together, I’m a happy fella. This is a good one. I Don’t Love Anyone - what a journey. Buddy doesn’t love Christmas. Nothin. Waking up on a Saturday and thinking for a split second that you have work, but then remembering it’s Saturday? Buddy doesn’t even love that. Cold as ice. But then, he loves his family? What a cop out. Mary Jo - Ankther beautiful melody. This harkens back directly to 60’s “chamber pop.” I think. God I might start saying “twee” if I get carried away here. Better rein it in. Yeah this song was uhhh bitchin’. Wow. Alright! Yeah! HELL yeah!! Woooo. Yeah! Uh huh! Ok!! Alright! Woo! Alright everybody. Settle down. Listen. This was an album that I will absolutely return to. I imagine the enjoyment will grow upon repeated listens. This was excellent. Gentle atmosphere with excellent songwriting, fantastic lyricism and an eye to the future with two feet firmly entrenched in the influences of the past. Belle and Sebastian surpass the similarly named coffee brand in both quality and enjoyability. Oh shit! I’ve got to feed that Pygmy hippo. And restock on edibles. Can you wait here and hold my ornate crown and sceptre? You’re a life saver. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: The State I Am In, Expectations, I Could be Dreaming, My Wandering Days are Over, Mary Jo

Interesting. I haven’t heard anything from this one I don’t believe, but I’ve been known to not skip Beck songs when they come shuffling into the endless expanse of audio stimulation I require. I am like a startled prey animal, desperately seeking some sort of comfort from the terrors perceived by my advanced fear response. I believe they call that GAD in humans. Enough rambling. Will this album be a “Loser,” or will Beck give ‘em heck. I hate myself. E-Pro - I am a professional Farming Simulator E sports competitor, I am a professional Farming Simulator E sports compet… oh hi. I didn’t see you there. I was just trying out this whole “manifesting” thing. Fingers crossed. This song is a little too car commercially for me. This sounds like the kind of song that accompanies an instacart ad that I have to hear 650,000,000 time because I refuse to pay for another subscription service. Que’ Onda Guero - By golly this white boy is funky. Am I allowed to have fun? Not really, but if you can keep a secret, despite this song bringing pretty dumb; it’s pretty damn fun. Girl - The least common song subject. Companionship. That’s some of my trademark silliness. I have nothing else to say about the lyrics. I apologize to all of the literary aficionados who diligently tune in to this web page. This is another song that I feel like I shouldn’t like. Alas, my toes are tapping. Elliott Smith meets Nirvana. Missing - Well we had to come off the high eventually. This sounds like a song that isn’t good. I think I’m getting really close to discovering music criticism. I can feel it. Black Tambourine - This ode to a specific instrument was uhh fine. This is kind of just chugging along. Not horrible or anything. Earthquake Weather - I like this song title. It’s just so nonsensical to me. Makes me think, and that typically takes a village. Decent song. Very laid back. Hell Yes - Hell Yes. We’re back to funky white boi hours. This is a guilty pleasure song in every sense of the word(s). There is a sense of irony which makes this acceptable to listen to. The sounds are so fun. Broken Drum - Oh we’re getting emotional. Another song about an instrument and another fine moment in time that is this album. Scarecrow - Isn’t this the start of Billie Jean? Why is this kind of good as well? I feel like I should hate this but I just can’t. I’m scaring myself. Go It Alone - Oh man the creepy synth break in the middle here. That’s pretty wild for such a silly song. Farewell Ride - Ehhhhhhh it’s still not bad. God damn. Even a dumbass cowboy song is grabbing me. It’s really not that dumb. The soundscape is so interesting here. It seems that there a thousand things going on and I barely know where to listen. In a good way! Rental Car - Hey, that weird 2002 nu-metal breakdown in the middle actually went hard as hell. This is a really fun track. Emergency Exit - I am very slowly evacuating the small toaster fire that is this album. The quirkiest fire evacuation in the world. Make sure your beanies are fire resistant! Quick the Sufjan Stevens vinyl melts the fastest. This album is more concrete proof that my brain has been damaged by our food and daily activities. I don’t care about “vibes” or if something is “chill” but boy howdy, the chill vibes got me on this one. Producing this cool of a record, whilst also being so unapologetically dorky is a massive achievement. The production was impressive to me here. The layering of sounds and introduction of odd background vocals or obscure instruments made everything sound so interesting. Sometimes music can be mindlessly enjoyed, and as the mind fades, I’ll need more of that content. Hook me up to the vibes machine. I’m ready to let go. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Que’ Onda Guero, Girl, Hell Yes, Rental Car

Buddy really is at the chicken shack! I like an album cover that delivers what it promises. There is a man - I presume Jimmy Smith - out at the chicken shack. Now would I call that wire box a shack? Not exactly, and am I to assume that the dog is named Stanley Turrentine? I give this album cover a 4 out of 5. Excellent, but missing some crucial pieces of information. Who is the dog?? Uhh oh. There is music to review. From the Kenny Burrell addition I assume this is jazz. Hook it to my veins. I certainly won’t “bawk” at that!!!!!11!1!1 Back at the Chicken Shack - Oh my sweet lord. This is jazz featuring an organ? Man. We’re off to a flyer. This shit is simple, but it goes oh so hard. If I’m shouting “HELL YEAH” at the start of a saxophone solo, it’s about to be a great Friday. When I Grow Too Old to Dream - We’re getting a little more abstract here. The organ riff underneath everything is fairly straightforward for a bit, but the performances on drums and sax here, take us further in jazz world. This rules. I could just listen to this all day. OH GOD THE BASS organ. Ugh. I’m so happy. Minor Chant - This is what happens during a wrestling match that isn’t that good. A minor chant. Murmuring. Coughing. Fortunately, this song is like an AJPW main event from the early 90’s. This is sending me into hysteria. I believe I may pass out by the time this thing is done. Messy Bessie - Is this the name of the chicken? More of a cow name, but I will allow it. Bless all the kids walking around called Bessie. They need to start wearing bells and just embrace the cow persona. I kid the poor children. Stay tough out there. I believe he is using the organ as a bass. That’s phenomenal. Man I enjoyed the hell out of this. You may say “I didn’t know there was hell in it!” To that I would probably jump off a bridge, leaving the echoes of your lame joke resonating in your mind as you watch me plunge to my death. That’ll learn ya. As far as jazz goes, this isn’t breaking any ground, but I loved it. The organ was a warm addition to the overall ensemble that you would expect from a jazz record of this era. The solos were capable and often had me bobbing my head. Tried to start a mosh pit at home but it’s hard when the only other participant is your pregnant partner. Anyway. Maybe the moshing is better left to the pros, and the organ jazz? Despite what RYM users might say, sometimes it’s ok to listen to jazz that doesn’t immediately transport you to a smoky opium den in depression era New York. Not that I don’t enjoy that trip , but if they’re playing this record, I’ll be out by the chicken shack. Just got my avian flu booster, and I’m hankering for some JAZZ. 4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: You cannot go wrong.

Dude I was just thinking; “hey, my long weekend at home is missing the ambience of a grocery store.” I open my browser, and what do I see?? An answer to my problems. I will play this quietly and interrupt it periodically with loud, indecipherable PA announcements to feel like I’m really there. I need to feel like I’m at the bottom of a depressive cycle in the produce aisle. We’re just a press of a button away from crying next to the avocados. I’m ready to feel (miserable) again. Rolling in the Deep - This is the most 2011 song ever. Perhaps besides anything by the Lumineers. Anyway, here’s the thing, she can absolutely sing. It’s an incredible talent. If I had heard this song for the first time, I might even like it. Rumour Has It - The second most 2011 song of all time. Well I suppose the time would be 2011. Whatever. Some people peaked that year. I however, was a grumpy teenager who wished to not hear this song anymore. As a grumpy adult, it’s fine. We were really enamoured with the “stomp clap” motif. This one feels like a sell out moment. Still an incredible vocal performance, but far too commercial. Turning Tables - The first of the deep tracks. This one is going triple platinum with the moms who fantasize about divorce crowd. That demographic pretty much runs the daytime radio rundown. This sucks. Don’t You Remember - This is so basic and middling. I wish I didn’t remember this era. Although with my rapidly declining short-term memory, I probably won’t remember this song by this afternoon. Set Fire to the Rain - Damn, another hit. This one is so theatrical and her the top. Even just the “touching your face” line. It just reads like a theatre kid imagining their ultimate broadway closing scene. This might be more fit for the Neptune Theatre in Halifax. Ugh. Maybe Dartmouth. He Won’t Go - Yeah there he is officer. Yep, the guy in the oversized Gene Snitsky” t shirt. He won’t leave and we’ve been trying to close this grocery store for a few hours. He keeps shouting about it “not being his fault.” I don’t care whose fault it is, but we’re in the deep tracks here and I can’t really handle any more 2011 radio ballads. Take It All - Take it (take it) take another little piece of my time, and blast into the oblivion of time via another 48 minute slab of music. I suppose I’m the one asking for it! Perfect. This song was meh. I’ll Be Waiting - Errm whatcha waiting for? A good song? Me too Adele. Me too. One and Only - Oh boy, another wedding ballad. This really is the way I wanted to spend my day. Lovesong - this just makes me think about the death metal band “Grave” who have a song by the same name. It’s from their obligatory groove metal era that so many death metal bands ended up in. I will say, Grave’s “Hating Life” is actually heavy as all hell. I stand by it. Someone Like You - This song encapsulates everything I hate about pop music and how we consume it. Not because it’s a bad song, because it isn’t. This is actually a beautiful song and pulls at the heart strings. However, this song is devastating. Listen to it. Tell me why this is playing in the background when you’re shopping for toilet paper or waiting to pick up hemorrhoid cream at the pharmacy. Tell me. Why do I need to listen to someone pine for a love they weren’t ready to lose while getting fleeced at a mechanic? People claim to enjoy music, but don’t listen to it at even a surface level. We could play wasps buzzing for these simpletons, as long as it replaces the silence. Careful. If we don’t have heart wrenching breakup ballads playing, you might have to think! Ugh god. Maybe they’re right. Somebody spin up a catchy ballad about suicide. I’ve got some shopping to do. Every grain of passion typically gets expunged from pop music before it hits the dental office speaker, but it remains intact in Adele’s voice. The problem here isn’t the performance of the vocalist, it’s everything else. Every song is so generic. Each track was crafted with the hope of playing at an outdoor wedding engulfed in those millennial string lights. After 24 karat Magic, you need to bring the house down with the first dance song. Every wedding DJ knows the score. Listen, I don’t hate this, but I also don’t care. See my pop music rant in the last track review for my full thoughts. Don’t want to harp on it again. Oh what the hell, one more time. Stop playing emotionally dense music in public places. I don’t know who I have to reach about this issue, but some of us actually hear the shit that’s playing everywhere. 1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Someone Like You

When music nerds discovered death. Who guys look out. David Bowie recorded this and then died. Yup. He knew he was dying and felt (insert overarching emotional theme of Blackstar here) about it. Truly the greatest poet of our time. Like he DIED. Who does that? What an artist. The discourse around this album bears all the hallmarks of “deep because death,” but I’ll give it the old college try. Tally ho Mr. B, if the good lord is willing, may your 1 star streak be broken. Blackstar - Here’s the deal. Sometimes I feel guilty about my reviews. Despite the fact nobody reads them, I feel I haven’t developed a concrete rubric and sometimes my distaste for something can be based on other factors. When I think about it more, I realize that is what art is and one’s connection to said art is the combination of all their feelings about the art. I’m not the only one who does this. If you don’t believe me, please look up “rayonbase” on your music platform of choice. One is a universally beloved, critically acclaimed “icon” of the music industry. One is a universally laughed at instagram musician. Yet, for at least the start of this song, they sound exactly the same. This wasn’t even my original observation, but as a fervent rayonbase enjoyer, I had to include. Oh, this song was cool until the loose bow tie breakdown at the halfway point. “I’m not a gangster, I’m a Blackstar.” Fuck off. I love the odd instrumentation, but the singing is again, where David Bowie loses me. ‘Tis a Pity She is a Whore - More cool music interrupted by these vocals. Listen to that. If you have the mindset that it’s intentionally bad, it gets a little better. We’ll go with that. Yeah, this almost becomes a punk album. Hell yeah. Context is king. Lazarus - Almost like Sabu’s theme song and that is the biggest compliment I can give any music. I wish he wouldn’t sing. My god. But then again ugh the bad singing is so cool. This is supposed to be the deep song about being dead, and he sounds almost disinterested. Except when the white boi reggae™️ riffs start. Then he’s fired up. The crackers yearn for the white sand beaches of Jamaica. Sue (Or in a Season of Crime) - I would like to take this opportunity to sue the estate of David Bowie. For the damages suffered on “Station to Station” to sitting through the death album. Why is there a sick alt-metal breakdown in here? You won me over you sly rascal. Girl Loves Me - Yeah he just didn’t care anymore. Going completely insane. This is evil coldplay. It’s so bad, that it’s good and not even in a funny way. It’s just anti-music. Do I like this album??? That can’t be happening. Where the fuck did Monday go? The great question of our time that nobody has ever asked. Dollar Days - Are back at McDonalds. Was it McDonald’s? Who cares. Some evil corporation did Dollar Days. Possibly inspired by big Dave. More chic bad music. Very fun in much the same way that watching a horrible B movie is cinematic brilliance. I Can’t Give Everything - This was as confusing an ending as I’d expect. I’m sure there is some beautiful death allegory about giving everything but being afraid to and having no choice blah blah blah. This song extinguished most of the charm this album had going for it. If David Bowie didn’t sing in this record, you’ve got yourself a very nice piece of music. Unfortunately, we did have to endure the vocal stylings of one Dave Bowie, but here’s the thing, as I espoused throughout this review, the singing was in the “so bad it’s good” territory. This was a cool record. I think it’s artistically viable despite being borderline unlistenable. Whatever it was, I was intrigued. Pop the champagne and pour it out for my homebody D-Bow. He’s out of 1 star purgatory. He failed his way out of the mire, only to be whack-a-moled with a shameful 2 stars. Better luck next time. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: The unblinking eye of the catacombs

In the past week. I have had poor luck with artists who refer to themselves as “Ms.” anything. Ms. Dynamite came through with one of the more baffling inclusions on this list that we have endured. I mean it’s rated an average of like 2.8 on here. I’ve seen profiles that have AVERAGE ratings of 4.5. People love everything and they STILL hate Ms. Dynamite. Missy Elliott has more name value for me than the aforementioned UK rapstress, but I’m not holding my breath for a classic. Hopefully this misdemeanour doesn’t escalate into a felony. Especially in the states. You’ll never take me alive. Busta’s Intro - Yeah it’s Busta Rhymes. He is screaming “ah hah” into my ears. 5 stars. Hit ‘Em wit da Hee - The Lil Kim feature. God she is desperately trying to be Notorious BIG. This song is hilarious. The smooth R and B vocals singing the nonsense lyrics of “I hit em with the haaaa I hit em with the heeeeee, I stop em with the haaaaaaa.” This rules. I mean it sucks, but I’m smiling. The rap portion left me wanting more. Cool flow. Sock it 2 Me - Da Brat has made their first appearance. I don’t know what they’re doing on this track but I don’t like it, and I request that they stop. The rap part isn’t enough to save this stinker, mainly because it also stinks. A lot of stench based reviewing going on. Hey. If the shoe fits. The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly) - E-40 style beat. Don’t you wish we were listening to E-40?? Man. That guy is insane. Back down to reality. This song is my current reality. These lyrics were written by a seventh grader. “Beep beep, who got the keys to the jeep.” That is right out of the wannabe rapper from Upper Tantallon’s sixth grade notebook. Also, we get it, you know Timbaland. Please stop mentioning him. Unless you plan to keep calling him “Timothy.” That is funny and I approve. Beep Me 911 - Alright guys, this is not a drill. We’ve got a 702 feature. Uejejdjdjdjwkksnjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj I’m sorry, I just passed out on my keyboard. MAGOO is on this track? THE MAGOO? Is he on the “ahh ahh” part of the beat? Or is he the “say what say what” guy. Oh no somebody is beatboxing. This is a monster of a track for all my Goo heads™️. For people who don’t like being breathed at for 5 minutes, this one might be a pass. They Don’t Wanna Fuck Wit Me - More Timbaland. I’m starting to realize that he may be the producer of this album. This song also fills me with dread for the rest of the album. Pass da Blunt - I want everyone to know that I am not taking liberties in typing these song titles. I am fighting for my life with autocorrect and with this lame Bob Marley interpolation. Oh man the beatboxing section is so painful. I’m cringing my collarbone into my ears. Bite Our Styke (Inteelude) - I’d like to bite Timbaland. In a wildman, go to jail way, not sensually. Friendly Skies - ughhhhhh. I don’t know how to describe that voice modulation that is interrupting the song with random stabs. Is there a helicopter sample on this song? Too much going on. This “Ginuwine” feature blows. I was kind of hoping he would get sucked into the helicopter rotors. Best Friends - There is so much left. There is a sample in this song that sounds like a computer overheating and for whatever reason, it’s so irritating that I need to step away. Why are there so many listless R & B songs on this album? Don’t be Comin’ (In My Face) - Let’s say large population centres. Toronto ha ha Montreal ha ha New Minas where you at. This was another song on a list of (too) many. Izzy Izzy Ahh - The “jeep beep beep” rhyme is back, but at least we’ve got a sick beat here. Why couldn’t this album be more of this. There is still too much going on, and more slurred speech rhymes kind of take me out of it, but I can emphatically say this is the best thing in what feels like eons. Why You Hurt Me - Don’t say “humping.” I don’t know why this is just a trademark Notorious BIG flow. The main difference is that it sucks. Key distinction that keeps Missy from infringing on any copyrights. That’s the American Way. I’m Talkin’ - Please stop talkin’. Missy Elliott is rabid apparently. That’s a nice revelation from these lyrics. Rabies transmission confirmed. Gettaway - These beats are so hit and miss. This sounds like that tweaker from the Muppets got in the booth. I hate it. Busta’s Outro - Busta Rhymes appeared at the beginning and DID NOT DO A FEATURE??? What in the fuck are we talking about here. Man. I’m crushed. Missy’s Finale - Spoken Word - Spoke Word - Spok Word - Spo Word - Sp Word - S Word- SWord uhhh things that the pen is mightier than for 200. Between the slide whistle beats and the nursery rhyme nonsense bars, I am perplexed and irritated. Baffled, bewildered and relatively bemused. I feel like I’m at an unimpressive funhouse somewhere in the prairies. Musically this is the opposite of what I want to hear. I hate glossy “turn of the century” R & B and despite some moments on this making me chuckle, I never want to experience it again. You can “miss” me with this one. The slog through this week continues. Will there ever be a rainbow? 1 HIGHLIGHTS: Why do I include this section anymore? I suppose the same reason I stick to this unreadable review format. Two neurons diverged in a reviewers brain.

The last Queen album disappointed me so mightily that I am dreading this. Hoping that because this is older, I get less “rock opera” and more “listenable music.” I always believed Queen would be interesting to dive into, but yeah the hits were a warm respite from the garbage polluting the last record. This is all from memory. You think I’m checking my archives??? Buddy when these puppies leave my fingertips, I forget them like I was zapped by one of those memory eraser dealies from the Men In Black movies. Anyway. Let’s get theatrical. Or not. I hold my nose thusly. Brighton Rock - The vocal trades between the vocalist’s falsetto and uhh other voice are reminiscent of “Gimme the Loot.” Not a comparison you thought you’d hear huh? That’s the kinda guy I am. An insane guy. Listen this song is even better when the vocals disappear. Very bold to open an album with a bizarre guitar solo. Very cool. Killer Queen - I think this song would’ve had a hold on me as a ohh say 9 year old. Catchy music had a way of enrapturing my young mind. My old mind? On the fence. Starting to border into the theatrical. The musicianship is nice, but there is a certain “broadway” element that is making me twitch. Tenement Funster - Hey that’s my landlord’s name. Must be nice, reaping the royalties of this horrific proto-glam song AND charging me to live in a place. Well, at least I have a place in the warmth to criticize the ol’ funster’s titular track. Flick of the Wrist - Damn, we have metal moments on this record? The creepy Halloween riff is pretty cool, but the drawback is once again he fact that I can almost see the red curtains drop at the end of the song. Lily of the Valley - Scene change. The monologue at the lowest point. Act II complete. Now I’m Here - Hey gang. Dont lose hope! We don’t have to stand for this malarkey. Old man Funster won’t ever quell our love and he can never stop us ROCKIN’. YEAH! Ugh. At least we get more of that gnarly guitar tone. Shame it has to follow that intro. In the Lap of The Gods - Soarin’ and Borin’ their way into your living room. Stone Cold Crazy - Oh hell yeah. See that works in two levels, one, this song rules, the other is the fact that it’s Stone Cold, and he’s says oh hell yeah. See that’s the kind of crossover content that sends people to my reviews in droves. Dear Friends - The guy can sing. That’s the most boring normie observation ever made, but I’ll be damned if it isn’t true. I don’t care about this song, but it is a showcase for that voice. Misfire - Yeah, it sure was!!1!1 Bring Back That Leroy Brown - He certainly was a swingin’ cat, that Leroy. Hoo boy we’re struggling here. Both for good songs and review content. She Makes Me (Stormtrooper in Stilettos) - This one is actually kinda fun and modern. Laid back and interesting in the best way. Very 90’s indie folk. Sounds light years (two decades) ahead of its time. In the Lap of The Gods… Revisited - Yes, nothing completes an album by revisiting one of the worst songs. I think my review was mostly negative, but this is actually an intriguing record. They really swung for the fences here and I’m not talking about baseball. I’m talking about a new sport I invented called smashing my stupid piece of shit neighbour’s fence. That’ll teach you to barbecue when I TOLD HIM I get JEALOUS when he cooks burgers on there. It got pretty heated and I smashed his fence real good. Listen. Queen? They’re fine. The guitar playing was good to great, the vocals ranged from entertaining to high school play and rhe sings were mostly meh. We had some highs, had some lows, and smashed some personal property along the way. What more can you ask for? 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Brighton Rock, Stone Cold Crazy, She Makes Me (Stormtrooper in Stilettos)

I wish I was a person who could convey complex messages via the written word. What a lame dream for a young man to have, you may say, but I suppose talentless people everywhere dream of being athletes, musicians, pornstars, despite being dumpy, clumsy, and ugly. Did I mention talentless? See, I yearn for the pencil despite my clear lack of incisive wit and stunted vocabulary. I say all of this to express to you that the sigh that escaped my body when I saw this cover could ice the seven seas. Hand me that spliff. I hope it’s laced with fentanyl, because I don’t really want to be conscious for this. Jah feel? Natural Mystic - Spiritual white lady anthem. I assume poor Bob didn’t write this album with that intention. The one reggae riff that exists is the only thing I can hear. My ears are bleeding. So Much Things to Say - Nice grammar IDIOT. Me type gud and you? Bad typer. Guiltiness - Ah the song changed. Bob Marley, you have been charged with three counts of sucking real bad and making music that sucks. Considering the charges, this court will be presided over by right honourable sixth graders. Please pull up a connected chair/desk and make one of those cool “Ss.” The Heathen - the heathen the heathen the heathen the heathen the heathen the heathen. This is one of the worst things I’ve ever heard. Exodus - The last song could’ve been “Heathen” by Master (arguably their best track). This song could be “Exodus” by “Exodus.” Both are fantasies that flash before my third eye as I attempt to leave my body during this interminable slog through musical purgatory. Jamming - Hey Bob? I hate jamming. I hate this album. I think you are the worst. You seem like a relatively nice guy and I would say you are very important politically and culturally. For me? This music is just painful to listen to. It’s not for me, and that’s ok. Waiting in Vain - Whoa, guess what? The rhythm changed! Yup, it did *large exaggerated wink* uh huh, definitely *wink* new *nudge* and unique too! Turn Your Lights Down Low - I think he’s talking about your brain power. Just dim it and this album becomes a dream weaved by a master silksman. Silksman is not an occupation, but dammit, it should be. Hopefully I didn’t accidentally co-opt some euphemistic word. Oh well. Three Little Birds - Famous song that is somehow worse than when it appears briefly in movies. Well it’s worse because it’s longer, and I also have to listen to it without the visual accompaniment of some wacky adventure. One Love / People Get Ready - SHARK !! EVERYBODY OFF THE BEACH. NO. LEAVE THE STEEL DRUMS. I’M SURE NOBODY WILL PUSH THEM INTO THE OCEAN WHILE WE WAIT FOR THIS SHARK INCIDENT TO PASS. UNFORTUNATELY WE HAVE TO STOP THIS WONDERFUL ALBUM BECAUSE OF THE VERY REAL THREAT OF SHARKS. NO, THE GUITARS STAY TOO. The only time I have ever enjoyed reggae was a memorable day when I was working as a guy who removed plastic from vehicles near the Halifax airport. During one of my glamorous days getting plastic cuts on my hands in near freezing rain; myself and my esteemed colleagues retreated to the heated warmth of an eternally running Ford F150. Reggae transported us to a place that wasn’t a freezing rain storm at the airport. Best 20 minutes of that job. If you do the math, that 20 minutes cost them about $3.66. Take that, capitalism. You learn a lot about music when you’re hiding from the rain with an obese teenager, a retiree, and a struggling actor who recently appeared in the Mist miniseries as “guy who fell down the stairs 1.” I learned that unless you’re in that exact situation, avoid this album like a rain storm in a dirt car lot. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Haha “High”

Hey hey mama said the way you uhh groove is uhh pretty umm pretty good. Those are the immortal words that open Led Zeppelin’s creatively titled 7th album, Led Zeppelin IV. The IV is of course referring to the intravenous euthanizing of the Black Dog to which this album is dedicated. Jimmy Plant, bassist for the group was noted as saying “that dog was big and got slobber on me loafers.” He was 43 years old. In that spirit of reciprocity and joyous memoranda, we take a closer look at the man carrying the stick pile and ask the question on all of our minds; could you bake a pie so delicious, it could be used to assassinate a deity? Just melt buddhas eyes with a strawberry rhubarb surprise. More at 11. Or is it 11:30? Stay tuned. Black Dog - If I haven’t heard this song a million times, I’ve heard it about 950,000 times. You may say “hey pal, that’s like 9 years of straight listening. How did you find the time?” I say “you weren’t in that cell in the Uzbek highlands. Guantanamo is a joke compared to the hell forged for me in those walls.” Rock and Roll - Hey this is that song about popular children’s game, “rock and roll.” In my village, we called it boulder crush. We usually lost a couple youngsters a year underneath the massive boulder that we rolled down the hill. We’d meet by ol’ “crushed innards mountain” and get to rollin. Of course, every week we’d have to pick a “Sisyphus.” “Not sis!” You’d say. The sisyphus was usually the one who was being lowered into the crypt by Friday. “Funeral Friday” we’d call it. We actually had a child coffin maker move into town. It was a real boon to several industries. The Battle of Evermore - This song is about that lawsuit where Paramore sued Evanescense and also that white rapper who did the song “What it’s Like.” All too similar. I believe the latter pair countersued with a new song called “Bring me to What it’s like.” It went “see the man at the liquor (can’t wake up) store begin’ for your litigation (won’t get sued).” It set revolutionary music media precedent in the Paraguayan courts. Stairway to Heaven - erm no thanks, I’ll take the Hellevator. Or is the Purgatory dumbwaiter still running? Those fuckers at OTIS really did it. Monopolizing the world’s floor traversal vehicles and then? the routes to the afterlife? Otis Worldwide President and CEO Judy Marks has outdone herself. Misty Mountain Hop - The dance craze sweeping the nation was predicted by the scribes of auld. Everybody using the social media juggernaut “tout” is doing the misty mountain hop. Just when you thought they’d never stop jitterbuggin, these crazy kids have moved on to the hop. Some say it’s brought on by some sort of neuropathic infection. I say? It’s brought on by love. And the power of Tout™️. Four Sticks - There are way more than four sticks on that guy. I’d guess there are AT LEAST 5. I will not let my intelligence be insulted further and it is at this point that I leave you. It’s been a wodnerful moth. Ddndjjr. It appears that I’ve been poisoned. I don’t have much time. I will finish the album, if not to complete my life’s work, but to at least nudge the fat cats at 1001albumsgenerator.com to begin providing safeguards for their noble reviewers. I shall die as a martyr for my hatred of U2. Don’t you, forget about me. I’m Going to California - Not California! I was sort of hoping we’d be going to Tatamagouche, Nova Scotia. I need some warning next time. I had my sou’wester ready. I didn’t think you would take the southwest thing so seriously. When the Levee Breaks - Cold sweat beads into angered eyebrows. Those same brows that have been a staple on screens for years. A low growl shatters the silence outside the studio. “They cancel Schitt’s Creek?” A snide smile breaks across the face of the camo clad Canadian. “I cancel them.” “Damn I could’ve thought of a better quip;” thinks Eugene. Yes, this song is about a failed Eugene Levy workplace massacre. Ooh my exotic animal pelt dealer is here. I gotta go. He promised pangolins with unique markings. You must understand, I purchased a SUBLIME hippo pelt that currently makes up the seats in my 2003 KIA Rio. Yeah. You’d answer the door too. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Black Dog, Stairway to Heaven, Misty Mountain Hop, When the Levee Breaks.

Are the children in the band? Cause guess what fellas. The 60s are over and you can only utilize child labour if you’re manufacturing useless products at slightly cheaper prices for mass consumption in North America. Unless it is for the the rampant mindless consumption by the dopamine starved rabble, I have to put a stop to this. Unless of course they’re just there for the album cover which is fine of course AHA. GOTCHA PAL. I don’t see a SAG-AFTRA membership on any one of these urchins. Come on kids. Into the Time Machine. The acid soaked beatniks can’t hurt you anymore. Now. Where were we? Ah yes. Listening to this album. Koeeoaddi There - We’re talkin’ made up words, sitars, and odd time signatures. We’re talkin’ psychedelic rock from the 60s. And to boot, it’s boring. Oh joy. The Minotaur’s Song - All I care about is WWF legend from the isle of Crete, Mantaur. Half man, half beast. This song was way more fun but I’m still left wanting a “Best of Mantaur” DVD. Witches Hat - Next week, a monkey is coming to stay. I mean that lyric alone is worth a thumbs up. A Very Cellular Song - The repetition is grating on me, but I wanted to say that this is the nicest song so far and when we stop repeating, we’re in the nicest part of the album. It is insane but somehow not insane enough. I’m bored with this. Mercy I Cry City - uhhh ok? Waltz of the New Moon - We have gone on too long here. I grow weary of the fake eccentricity. The Water Song - Perfect for an early adaptation of Tolkien. Maybe Silmarillion is finally due a film adaptation. Shoutout to film buff Gregg Turkington for that excellent idea. Book it, Hollywood. There is a Green Crown - is there? I wasn’t listening. I like the caterwauling near the middle of this but the extended Witcher soundtrack? Swift as the Wind - man uhh this thing just keeps going hey? Hey, the singing kind of jolted me out of my slumber. That’s really all one can ask. Nightfall - Let me sleep. Let me rest. Fade into the beyond where the night is eternal. You know when someone is rebelling so hard that it just gets kind of sad? Like it’s clear that their entire identity is rebellion. That’s how this feels. There are many elements of the hippie movement that are admirable and worth implementing in modern day society, but the more I read up on it, I see less creativity and more a desire to escape from society’s ills. People with the same mindset would be your terminally online crowd now. Anything to escape. This album was unable to capture much authenticity and felt like a group of well off kids who didn’t want to be told what to do. Hey Mom (Mum) I just want to hang out with my friends. I’m moving to California! Ugh. It wasn’t even particularly drugged out. I don’t hate this, but it wasn’t enough. Something is missing. It just feels inauthentic to me. This puppy is middle of the road and I’m friggin’ drivin ovah here. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: The Minotaur’s Song, Nightfall

Star of Country Bears, Queen Latifah?? Will we get a Christopher Walken feature and get a full reunion? Didn’t she also host some reality show? Listen, all I know is, a single from an “Ice Age” sequel is in the suggested column, so we’re no doubt in for an artistic journey to the very soul of our highness. Dance For Me - Uhhh no. You can’t make me. We’re off to a rocky start with your demands. Alright song, excellent delivery. Hopefully it continues in this vein and doesn’t wear out its welcome over the next *checks notes* HOUR? Ugh. Mama Gave Birth to the Soul Children - I couldn’t write a funnier title if I tried. Will this be ham fisted spirituality? Not really. It’s just another fun song. WITH DE LA SOUL? YES. Man, New York rap destroys all other regions. Like it’s not even close. This beat goes everywhere and stays super interesting throughout. I mean the child sample is dumb, but hey I’m having fun. Come Into My House - Pushy broad ain’t she? Calling women “broads” will never not be entertaining to me. This sounds like a RuPaul song. That is every bit the compliment I meant it as. Give me body? I mean come on. This should be playing at a ball. Hey I’ve seen the documentary. Latifah’s Law - The beats continue to be super fun and the flow matches that energy. She kind of sounds like friendly Ice Cube. Regular temperature cube. This fuckin’ rips. Wrath of my Madness - Got the HP Lovecraft feature on the song title here. Where did that come from? Everything is about being fun and having an attitude, but then we step into cosmic horror. Will this be about her loosening grip on sanity as she sinks deeper into the abyssal dark of the gaping maw beneath the stairs of her Massachusetts manor? False alarm. It’s just about rhyming. The Pros - Possibly about professionals, or maybe we can expect a track about the cons? OR, this is a song about the seminal television triumph known as Pros vs Joes. No. It’s a reggae influenced song about unity. NEVER MIND WHAT IS THIS BEAT? We could use less “Daddy O” but the beat is disgusting. In the best way. Daddy O stinks. Ladies First - Feminist rap. This song has always ruled and the one Queen Latifah song I knew before this. Great feature, fun lyrical content besides Queen Latifah insisting her rap partner should “get dumb.” I suppose she does spell Lady “LADIE.” Spelling is tough. Trust me on that. A King and Queen Creation - DJ MARK IN THE FUCKING HOUSE. This might be the best sample going. The samples are so layered and fun on this whole album, but this track really shines for production. Queen of Royal Badness - Man of this album was bad, I could certainly have a field day with this title. I could say uhh hmm YEAH SHE SURE IS. Fuck that would’ve been sweet. Like a poster dunk. This song is kind of the queen of royal midness. Evil That Men Do - Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everyone makes his presence known. This is some good preaching. Fuck America is a shithole. Maybe one day things will get better, Queen. Princess of the Possee - More questionable spelling but no question that this rules. She runs the world. Take that Beyoncé ya loser. Inside Out - Pretty hard to wipe the smile off my face for this one. It’s a good day and this just made it better. I’m not hanging on her every word or anything, but this was just delightful. There are enough meaningful moments to say that this has a lot of substance along with the infectious joy I’ve already praised. I cannot say enough about the beats on this record. How a person can hear jazz records and then loop it into a hip hop recording without any modern tools, is akin to asking me how a nuclear reactor works. These people are geniuses. Now this album is not scratching every musical itch I have but I’ll be damned if this isn’t a damn fine release and better than 90% of male rap released around this time. All hail the queen. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Mama Gave Birth to the Soul Children, Latifah’s Law, Ladies First, Princess of the Possee

It’s time to once again climb aboard the “metal high horse.” I spent countless hours of my teen years listening to metal. I went so far as to message long married and middle aged former death metal band members for copies of their obscure demos. It almost worked once! It is because of that cringeworthy, and yes, slightly lonely adolescence that o crack my knuckles thusly in preparation for metal albums. Thrash metal icons Megadeth always bored me. I feel like Dave Mustaine and I couldn’t be more opposite and that is reflected in my enjoyment of his art. With that said, this is Megadeth’s most popular release with the critics and metal nerds alike, and I’m happy to give it the ol college try once again. But I’m not holding my breath. Holy Wars…The Punishment Due - Yeah the riffs here? Fuckin’ sick. Throughout. Here’s the issues. The vocals suck. Major issue with this band. These lyrics also start off incredibly good. Dying for religion is the worst way a life can end and it’s happened since the beginning of religion. When the lyrics get into tough guy posturing, and the mind control shit, I can only roll my eyes. This is the trouble with Megadeth. Considering the frontman is responsible for the moronic lyrics and horrible vocals BUT also these riffs? I’m lost. The riffs are too good to deny though. Hangar 18 - Starting off like a Rise Against track. NOT a compliment. This guy just loves wimpy guitar licks. I have always been a rhythm guitar enjoyer. Solos CAN be great, but mostly they’re just melodic and only interesting to people who enjoy the puzzle to solve that is the playing of guitar rather than uhh I don’t know, the SOUND. “Ah man did you hear him jump from that arpeggio to the diminished scale? He’s incredible.” Speak to a woman. Or man. Or non-binary person. Just get out of the house. I plead with you. Anyway, this song is fine. Take No Prisoners - Some prisoners? Now THAT is an interesting riff. Fuck yeah. Thrash metal happening. The gang vocals (permeate them) are a little corny compared to Kruger’s I’ve heard, but we’re finally “in a metal mood” here. Shoutout Pat Boone. Real metal heads know. Five Magics - Inwas told there were just 3 magics. Card, hat-based magic, and the magic of friendship. I am intrigued to learn of the next two. My guess would be it’ll have something to do with those quick change artists. Those fuckers are impressive. Buddy really is naming magic types in the breakdown. He’s so corny. I mean the song has energy. I like it. Always have, but he is such a cornball. Poison Was the Cure - Much more old school feel on this one. This track would fit right in on Kill ‘Em All if you roughed up the production a bit. I say that, but it’s also one of the weakest so far. Lucretia - Say, have you kids heard of Iron Maiden? Yeah this is a sped up Iron Maiden song. I am complaining. Decent underlying riff, but too much wankery. Tornado of Souls - The hit! Well they have that big arena chorus anyway. Riffs are ok, but the focus on this one is the lame driving rhythm, that chorus and of course the trading solos. Dawn Patrol - Songs without singing are good. Even this fake British groaning is an improvement. Rust in Peace… Polaris - Here lies my dead Polaris buggy. Long has it sat unused at my large palatial summer property. The only state a Polaris can be in. Honestly who owns those things? Anyway. This song is decent. Megadeth didn’t change my mind here, with a small caveat. I liked this album far more than I remembered liking it. I honestly expected to be and the whole time. There is a sterility to this album that is a harbinger of what’s to come for thrash metal in the 90s. We’re missing that grime that was part and parcel with Slayer, Dark Angel and even earlier Megadeth. I could go on about the general vibe and the endless solos, but the riffs were enough here to produce an enjoyable record. Some real highlights in amongst the Mustaineisms. I won’t even ™️ that one Dave. You can have it. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Holy Wars…The Punishment Due, Take No Prisoners, Five Magics

Well that was a long hiatus. While it may have seemed that I had succumbed to the perils of this list or some other real world disaster, I was just on vacation. If you thought that I would drown out the joys of a red eye flight to Fredericton, New Brunswick with bad music, you are sorely mistaken. The screaming children and threat of immediate airplane death was enough entertainment for me. In my extended absence, I like to think that I was just doing an impression of the target audience for this album. No way mom, I’m not going to do my homework. Mrs. Randall is a-a-a B WORD. I can’t wait to be fully edged by this album. Wait uhhh. Papercut - Oh my god. It’s so lame. This was immature to me when I was a small child. If Limp Bizkit is for people who are doofus frat boys, this is for high school incels who glorify doofus frat boys. Thumbs all the way down. One Step Closer - AND NOW ON HIS WAY TO THE RING, IWA MIDSOUTH CHAMPION PJ BLADEZ. I do pine for this ridiculous time in some ways. In the warm glow of nostalgia, it feels simpler, but I also know that it’s stupid. I feel a little stupid, because I kind of enjoy this one as a nu-metal novelty from a time of aggressive video game soundtracks and skinny indie wrestlers. Takes me back. With You - We’re back to the goofy fake emotional stuff. This was a let down after I surprisingly enjoyed that last song. Wild. Points of Authority - Oh man, this heavy breathing and shitty rapping. White boys were (are) entirely too comfortable “spitting” over a beat. “Hey fellas, I LOVE Eminem but I also like guitars. How can we make life in Kansas more exciting?” The birth of a genre. This is too much. Too much of what you may ask? Garbage. This is the equivalent of a rusted dump truck filled with scratched Korn CDs in a midwestern US landfill. Crawling - Oh we’re really getting into the emotion. I can feel the angst. I’m so glad this is used as a meme in comically not sad scenarios. I would be wholly embarrassed if I had released something like this. The perils of artistic creation. Runaway - Broken trust and the lessons you taught me (I POINT THE FINGER). Whatever. This is right out of the diary of an 11 year old. These thoughts aren’t even clouded by pubescence. This is pure juvenility. GONNA RUN AWAY GONNA RUN AWAY. The poor parents that heard the tinny remnants of this garbage escaping their teenager’s headphones. Hope you’re all doing better now. By Myself - Riff = cool. Rapping over 2000s spiritual Madonna beat? Disgustingly awful. The riff remains a fun reprieve from the general stickiness of everything else, but the stench kind of distracts the palate. In the End - NOOOOOOOOOO. This is the worst. I am cringing and wishing for the actual end. Have you checked the forecasts? We’re not far off. The singing portions. This sounds like they let the emo kid choose the school play. A Place for my Head - Let me guess. It’s going to be about suicide or something dumb. Not trying to dunk on the guy as he did end up committing suicide, but it’s just so ham-fisted and lame. Not all depressed people are artistic. Not sure why that’s controversial, but I’m sure if people could reach out to me, it would spark an army of emotionally stunted adults to fight over this factually correct statement. With all that imaginary fighting I forgot to say that this is another bad song. Forgotten - Is Fred Durst on this one? This is a harbinger of mid 2000s butt rock. True pioneers of the style that was to be rocked by von Dutch clad ALPHAS for years to come. Also a horrible insult to Alice in Chains. Cure for the Itch - Scratchin’ probably. Oh it’s a dumb DJ joke. I just wanted to be stupid and refer to a physical itch. Pushing Me Away - You sure are! Have you ever heard Corey Feldman’s music? This is his singing voice. I would like to levy a formal complaint against the evil fuckers at 1001 albums, and at the actually evil Spotify people. There is no possible way this was only 37 minutes. That cannot be. I shaved twice during this album. I believe I had a birthday that I couldn’t really celebrate due to my bad music induced catatonia. A blur of baggy jeans, trite sentimentality and jump da fuck up riffs that made me do no such thing. Sit down quietly riffs might be the new term coined by this bargain bin nu-metal project from a quarter century ago. If we’re all still here in another quarter century, let’s not take this garbage any further. Leave it as a relic. One never to be unearthed. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: Mom made me go to my room qq

Yeah let’s knock all of these out at once. There has been a tragic fire at Rucker’s. Ruckers? Is “Rucker” a person? Why am I referencing an obscure south Calgary arcade from the early 2000s. Listen. I have that era on the brain after limping through Linkin Park. Emphasis on the “L.” I am hoping this is a stark left turn from the aforementioned nu-metal cringe and I’ll be able to breathe once more. Black Mirror - The song about the show. This may come as a huge shock, but I make it my goal to avoid shows that the general livid clamours over until years later. Then I feel better about myself for enjoying it. Gotta live insufferable contrarians. Actually, you don’t. Anyway, this song is really mid. Keep the Car Running - I’m not hating this, but there isn’t all that much to sink my teeth into. The vocals are slightly annoying and almost reminiscent of Bruce Springsteen, which should be an automatic zero, but I’ll give this a chance to elevate beyond this. Neon Bible - These quirky fellas making the title track the third song?? Wild. This is the kind of craziness you get from mid 2000s hipsters. That term used to mean these people! Intervention - An ode to the sniper rifle from Call of Duty Modern Warfare II. Long may its scope be steady and may the silent shot killcams ever be “dank.” Black Wave/Bad Vibrations - Beach Boys diss track. FUCK surfing. NOBODY is learning how. EVERYBODY hates it. This is an alright track actually. The French is a cool touch as they are a Montreal band. Not bad. Ocean of Noise - This is a sweet song. A little long, but it’s a gentle indie track that appeals to me greatly. Excellent work, problematic band. The Well and the Lighthouse - This is that restaurant that has the 25 dollar brunch. At least the line cook has stick and poke tattoos and it’s in a formerly vibrant neighborhood. I think these days, we’re skipping this step and going right to the chain restaurants. I love real estate investing!!!! Decent song. Nothing crazy. (Antichrist Television Blues) - (don’t tell anyone, but I also don’t want to work in buildings downtown and I really can’t tell if I like or hate this album) Windowsill - Another perplexing journey through independent rock and/or roll. Highly repetitive and one of my least favourite refrains thus far. No Cars Go - See they’re touting the incredible walkability of their gentrified community. Those heys are pretty suspect. I feel the brim on my millennial hat expanding. Oh god, my man bun is getting more quirky by the second. ERRRRRRM NO. Make it stop. My Body is a Cage - Same, brother. Same. My cage is a body. My car is a cage, my motorcycle is uninsured. My insurance is a cage. Cages are my cage. Nicolas Cage is my insurance. The Declaration of Independence is in my motorcycle. Governmental artifacts are my insurance policy. My motorcycle remains uninsured. The louder vocal passages can be too reminiscent of Kings of Leon or some such tripe. The quiet portions oscillate between mildly enjoyable and mildly grating. There is a germ of stomp-clap music that is beginning to percolate in these 11 tracks. I can almost smell the barn weddings that will plague our earth in the late aughts/early 10s. I am spinning my wheels here. I don’t think I enjoyed my time here, but that’s could change as I move forward in this interminable slog. How much can I handle in one day? We shall see. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Ocean of Noise, My Body is a Cage

Not modern PJ Harvey. Oh man. She has some great rock credentials from the 90s, but that miserable effort from 2000 does not fill me with hope here. Please don’t just be another 12 songs about New York. Nor London. I can’t handle more random city worship. We get it. You LOVE paying a lot of money for stuff and listening to desperate people yell on the street. I love starting into the reflection of our capitalist society’s worst tendencies for the price of getting robbed occasionally. Will I seem stupid for predicting this? Trick question. I will seem stupid, but probably not for whatever this first paragraph purports itself to be. Spin the block Peej. Let England Shake - No. I will not. This is an interesting, jangly little song. Not a bad start, despite playing god with the earth’s tectonic plates. I didn’t know you had that kind of power, and now I better tread carefully, lest hurricanes ravage inland Canada. The Last Living Rose - Brexit banger ™️. Yeah this is actually a really pretty song with a sarcasm I quite enjoy. Looking at England through a realistic lens while also acknowledging the role it plays in your life. Interesting and, dare I say it? Fun. The Glorious Land - This really is going to be England criticisms. I wonder if she will mention New York? Anti-War sentiments and parallels drawn between the two nations most responsible for the negatives in the world today. The Words that Maketh Murder - Well, they can’t all be hits. All And Everyone - We continue with sleepy nonsense. Not loving this departure from what made this album so captivating to begin with. There’s still time. On Battleship Hill - Whoa. There’s a battleship on a hill? Are we talking about some sort of harbour hopper situation? We’re so back. Haunting modern take on a psychedelic chamber pop song. I think. I don’t know anything about genres. That’s what it sounds like to me??? England - Man, another England song. Very cool track. A lot of this is extremely off the wall and I’m liking the general atmosphere. Interesting to see how disparate here albums are. In 20 years; the change in sound is staggering. In the Dark Places - Oh man, we’re starting to drag. Not in a cool way either. Bitter Branches - For the last time, do NOT eat the branches. PJ, I take you and this backup singer to the public gardens and you just keep eating trees. Worse yet, you write an extremely grating song about it. Hanging in the Wire - I have tried to listen to this song twice and I still can’t remember one thing about it. I’m sorry, I have failed my loyal readership. And my royal leadership. Written on the Forehead - This is an interesting one. I like the sample, and the general oddity of everything fits nicely. The Colour of the Earth - What a dull closer. Ugh. An inconsistent album that really started to take forever. It seems that when she ran out of ideas, she just started to repeat herself ad nauseam. There were some fascinating ideas here, and there was a bunch of dead air I was forced to sit through. Welcome to 2011. Well actually most albums from 2011 are utter dreck, so this was a standout I suppose. The best of a bad bunch so far. Anyway. Happy this is behind me. Bring on the angsty 90s PJ Harvey, and let England do what it will. Just do it away from me, please. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: The Last Living Rose, On Battleship Hill

Tonight’s the night (like Redman) and apparently our cantankerous old Canadian pal, Neil Young. One of his infinite entries to this list and another chance to disappoint the shit out of me. Coming into this experiment, I hoped Neil Uoung would be a discovery. Sure, rockin’ in the free world sucks pond water, but he has to have some folk credentials, right? WRONG. He stinks at every turn. Please turn my perception around, Neil. I beg of you. One Canadian to another. Tonight’s the Night - I think if Neil Young debuted today, he’d on instagram reels to an audience of regurgitated meme comments like “goes hard on mute.” Hey and on the keys we have Big Swampy Al. We’re gonna keep Rollin’ this big ol’ riverboat down to Mississippi. Speakin’ Out - Just the softest, weakest, WHITEST blues you’ll ever hear. I don’t know if I’ve overloaded myself with bad music on this fateful day, but this is fucking infuriating. Abysmal insult to an iconic genre. World on a String - More listless “blues.” Borrowed Tune - I’d like to send this back please. At least I’m laughing. Holy hell. From the bad harmonica to the far too isolated vocals. I had a free harmonica that came with the purchase of some article of gap clothing in like 2001. I strongly believe that I could put together a performance of similar quality. TRY to tell me I couldn’t perform at least this well. This is bottom of the barrel. The crud that seeps into the wood. Come on Baby Let’s Go Downtown - Come on Baby, let’s leave this concert immediately. Mellow My Mind - The harmonica hoss is back to inflict more harm on the unsuspecting populace. Boring. Roll Another Number (For the Road) - If you take out the pianist (preferably with a blowgun) this is the best song so far. Albuquerque - Enough time has passed, so I’ve begun watching Breaking Bad. Once things leave pop culture, typically I can poke my head into the mix and see if there is anything worth scavenging. I believe old Neil’s music made an appearance in one of the episodes! That’s all I got. This is another bleh song. Should’ve been called “Country Ham.” New Mama - Neil does do better when he layers these Carl Wheezer vocals. Back away from that mic, let production magic make you listenable. Lookout Joe - They’re coming for you. Tired Eyes - You ever get so depressed that you can’t even sleep. You just kind of lay there? If not, that’s what listening to this song feels like. That may be the intention, so good for you I guess? Tonight’s the Night (Pt. II) - Long time readers know how much I like a reprise. Especially when it’s of one of the worst songs on the record. It was at the mid point of this record that I discovered (via RYM reviews) that it is consensus that people believe Neil Young to be amongst the greatest songwriters ever. First of all, these songs are all so incredibly simple at their core, and are muddied by shitty over the top singing and annoying, soft piano playing. I can’t believe how little I like Neil Young. I think he stinks, and is incredibly overrated by the entirety of the music world. It has to something I’m missing, because once again I feel as though I have landed here from a distant planet, where music doesn’t completely fucking suck. I come in peace. 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Are you going to finish that Croissant??

The torture continues with what appears to be a BOSSA NOVA album from the year of our lord 2000. I wish I could capitalize years for emphasis. This genre needed to be left in the 60s with this singer’s father. Whatever. Here we go again. Samba Da Bencao - Gentle and boring. Music to play in an overpriced cafe, as a dog whistle to those in the know that they are being absolutely rinsed for the lousy coffee and microwaveable pastries. August Day Song - Hey! It’s a day on August!!! What a fortuitous circumstance. The last of its kind, as this song felt like being lost in a shuttered department store, where the mannequins are alive and want to teach you about interest rates. I am so bored. Tanto Tempo - The boy from Chimpanzeema. I think we all remember THAT Olympics!! Luge will never be the same. Sem Contencao - *SNOOOORE* *mee mee mee mee mee* *SNOOOORE* *mee mee mee mee mee* Mais Feliz - Celebratory Corn song. Presumably. My Portuguese is rusty. Alguem - How I pronounce “album” after listening to 4 straight albums with an average rating of 1.5. My brain is mush. This album is so dreadfully dull. My brain is melting. So Nice (Summer Samba) - The song was called “So Nice” so they named it twice, because it’s a bad name. Lonely - You deserve to be lonely because this is your musical output. Bananeira - This is the song everybody was freaking out about on the RYM. It has a pulse, which is better than we can say about the preceding 8 patients who were DOA after the horrible samba incident at SambaFest 2012. After literally 20 seconds, this is another goner. Samba E Amor - UGHHHHHHHHHH Close Your Eyes - Ok. Deal. ZZZZZZZZZZZ HONK-SHOOOOOO HONK-SHOOOO 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Restful slumber. Finally.

It’s been a long day, but I have now eaten lunch. A fake donair was the dish du jour. Still tasty but can’t hold a candle to a real Halifax donair. If only I could live there. God. I will never forgive the system that turned my childhood haven from afterthought to sought after gentrification magnet for insufferable Ontario socialites to flock to like maggots to a corpse. Ah well. I’m stuck renting in this prairie wasteland while dickweeds who can’t pronounce Tatamagouche soak up the shores my ancestors landed on centuries ago. Anyway. What are we talking about? A live album that everyone on the internet describes as happy. I’m reinvigorated, albeit a little mournful about Nova Scotia. Try to lift my spirits fellas. Soul Twist/Introduction - That saxophone is doing exactly what I would imagine a “soul twist” sounds like. Hell of a welcome for the young man. Feel It (Don’t Fight It) - Oof a little sloppy off the start there. Don’t fight it, gents. Alright, we’re in the pocket. A small pocket where your keys fall out. This song is kind of like that. Disappointing. He kind of won me over with the performances. Chain Gang - This was a favourite when I was young. First exposure that I had to Sam Cooke. This is a more raw performance obviously, and creates a different level of enjoyment. Very good song. Cupid - What a natural voice. This is another absolute classic chorus. The live music is really impacting me here. Medley: It’s All Right/For Sentimental Reasons - Yes, wake up your significant other out of a dead sleep and look at them (unblinking) and say “It’s All Right.” Just say it again if they’re confused. Oh, and I hate medleys at concerts. I saw Carcass in 2013 and really wanted to hear Reek of Putrefaction. I mean, who doesn’t? They put it as part of a medley where they only played the opening strains. I mean that is the most sickening part, but still. Anyway. “Carcass” probably isn’t a word that appears frequently in reviews of this record. Twistin’ the Night Away - Song that is very “of the time.” Enjoyable. Cute. Somebody Have Mercy - Somebody. Anybody. Buddy is going to the bus station. If anybody needs the gentle hand of mercy, it’s a public transit commuter. Greyhound?? Oh no. Bless this man. The only people riding Greyhound buses are serial killers and potential victims. Bring It On Home to Me - This thing brings the fucking house down. What an amazing song and it’s just delivered in such an electrifying fashion. Incredible. Nothing Can Change This Love - Can’t fully say anything different about this track. It’s a comedown from the previous song Having a Party - Sounding like a party and a raucous way to end off this very strong performance. This isn’t exactly in my wheelhouse, but I got a lot of the energy that was put into this record. The live recording in 1963 is what really grabbed me. It felt like you were there, and you really just got swept up in the moment. When attendinggn a good concert in real life, decent songs are fantastic and fantastic songs, shake you to your very core. I won’t say this album shook me to my core, but there was a lot to like here and I feel as exhausted as if I was there that night. I assume I’d stick out in 1963 Harlem, but much like my beloved Nova Scotia, Harlem in 2025 is probably one of the most gentrified places in North America. Don’t we love progress?? See ya energy and passion, we need microbreweries and chain brunch spots. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Chain Gang, Cupid, Somebody Have Mercy, Bring It On Home to Me

6 albums today? Serves me right for taking vacation. I can even progress to today’s album (August 26th, 2025) if I’m really feeling bold. I have spent a legitimate 6 hours or so going through all these and giving my uninformed, lazy opinions on records I believe to be mostly terrible. Sam Cooke was a reprieve, although the story of his death has me contemplating whether or not it was another orchestrated hit on influential black nationalists by the US government, or if he really was just a bad dude. Both? This is a Beastie Boys review. Hope it drags me out of this. Sure Shot - Calgary Hitmen goal song in like 2008. It really shows that I only write this for me. Nobody else could possibly care about or get all of my dumb references. Hell, when I stupidly read these terrible reviews back, I barely understand what I’m trying to say. Tough Guy - Throw in a sick punk song. This fucking rips. B-Boys Making With the Freak Freak - This song will be listened to out of respect for completion, but this song title disqualifies it from positive critique in any way. I don’t make the rules. Oh wait, I do. Bobo on the Corner - Just a beat. Not a great one at that. Root Down - Quite repetitive, but this beat is far more fun. The lyrics range from fun to completely braindead, so that’s interesting. Sabotage - Classic alert. For those who would like to see how rap is best mixed with rock music, look no further than this track. Excellent energy. Get it Together - Q-Tip rules so aggressively. Well, he’s actually not all that aggressive, but he’s so good. Perfect feature do legitimize yourself and to ensure that you have a funky song. Sabrosa - Instrumental hip-hop. Not exactly my cup of tea in this case as it feels a little barren. The Update - This continues in the vein of many of the previous tracks. Heavy beats informed by 70’s exploitation films? Those scores? Right? Listen, I can reference Canadian major junior hockey from 2008, but good luck finding any knowledge of cultural touchstones here. Futterman’s Rule - Every time you pass the kosher deli on 7th, you have to skip twice and tip your cap. I don’t make the rules on this one. It’s that damn Futterman. Alright Hear This - No punctuation here. I’m not sure if they mean, “ok. Time to listen to this song” or “this song is mediocre - listen to it.” Both kind of fit. Eugene’s Lament - Yeah, this sounds like it would be enjoyed by a guy named Eugene. Hell, it’s enjoyed by me, and I’m a set of horn-rimmed spectacles away from Eugenizing. Flute Loop - Flute is such a great instrument. Works supremely well here. Continue to loop, gents. Do It - Biz Markie is here and he’s babbling over a bone-breaking beat. Lots o’ B’s in that sentence. Lots o’ B’s, hey? Yeah, uhh sounds like a night at the IN-LAWS. *uproarious studio laughter and applause* Ricky’s Theme - Ricky is apparently a very chill dude. Not the Ricky of Trailer Park Boys fame, I take it. Nobody want to admit they are nine cans of ravioli, but I did while I was waiting for this song to finish. Heart Attack Man - Yeah I think this may have something to do with the 9 cans of ravioli from the previous track. Live by the fork, die by the fork. Or is it live by the fork, laugh by the fork and love by the fork? One or the other. Another fantastic hardcore track? These guys just show off with these interludes. Perfect voices for this genre. The Scoop - Between the updates and scoops, we have to be fully apprised of the situation(s) by now, right? I am certainly feeling like I’ve heard enough! So many similar sounding hip-hop tracks. Shambala - Finally, some throat singing. Bodhisattva Vow - Typical famous people. Always embracing some eastern religion. What about good ol fashioned satanism? Is nobody a fundamental God hater anymore? What happened to those brave church burners? Transitions - This song is about those cool glasses that automatically turn to sunglasses. What a way to end the album. A religious turn and some flagrant product placement. Way to go guys. Really selling out your loyal fans. And by selling out, I of course mean providing a crucial service for! Do you find yourself squinting outside? Fumbling with that prescription singles case, Or worse, leaving behind one or both pairs of eyewear? “I can’t see anything now, I’m ruined.” Well that doesn’t have to be the case any longer, introducing, from the year 2003, Transitions! Now, look like a dork, in and out of the sun! “Hey guys, surf’s up?” “Oh god he’s wearing those glasses. Everybody buddy up and go back to the bus.” Transitions. It’s time to go outside! Uhh this album was good! A bit long in parts and a bit dull in others. But there was enough to keep me going here. Some really special hardcore tracks that I will revisit and some creative beats and performances. Excellent features as well made for some entertaining moments throughout. Keep it coming Beastie Boys, and figure out a new sponsor for next time. That Transitions spot will pay for my bus fare home tonight! Well, almost. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Sure Shot, Tough Guy, Sabotage, Get it Together, Do It, Heart Attack Man

Oh baby. Nu-Metal of the aggressive kind. Whereas Linkin Park provided the soundtrack to hundreds of kids tearily looking out the window at their manicured suburb, this album? This was for kids who would leave home before school and come home at sundown covered in mud and strange viscous fluids. I don’t claim to be of the latter demographic, but I certainly have always appreciated more gritty art. From my memory, this album contains the obligatory DJ scratches, but also sounds like a fire drill at a midnight screening of some found footage horror film in the Midwest somewhere. I hope my memory isn’t failing me. Hand me my walrus mask. I am the newest Slipknot member. I play the washboard and the ol’ string and stick. New album, Big Hoss Hoedown, coming 2027. 74261700027 - I wrote all that shit for an intro? At least it’s a cool sample. (sic) - Ehhh I forgot that the vocalist kind of sucks. Too fast and aggro. The type of guy who gets a jiu-jitsu lesson from his family for Christmas because they worry that without it, he’ll shoot up the school. The riffs make up for it though. Excellent rage and a darker atmosphere than 99% of the mainstream nu-metal of the time. Eyeless - This is a song I’ve returned to in the convening years, but as a wee youngster this one hit so incredibly hard. It felt like I really wasn’t supposed to be listening to it. The edgy swears, the talking about “killing,” the whispered passages. It’s camp, and over the top, but it still rips. Not to mention that sick breakdown. My hat has been thusly turned up and to the side. There it shall remain. Wait and Bleed - Was this one in Rockband or something? It’s so immediately recognizable. Decent track. Surfacing - Brilliant lyrics (this is the sarcasm portion of the review). Yeah this is a little too dumb for an adult brain. Well, at least this adult brain. There are about 60 million YouTube commenters (Horns from *insert place here*) who would disagree. Riffs remains sick. Spit It Out - I am very much beginning to tire of ol Corey here. That’s his name right? His amateur MMA vibe is causing my eyes to roll. This is a catchy song to be fair, but it leans more on the DJ side of things, and almost borders industrial music. The lyrics and vocals kinda suck though. Tattered & Torn - What I initially believed to be a cool intro just turned out to be the whole song. This feels like one that could’ve been left on the cutting room floor. A true lowlight. Purity - We’ve got ourselves another song! It’s alright. More of the scream/sing formula that would become more pronounced as this genre evolved. Me Inside - We’re about to get deep. The melodic vocals are honestly a nice change of pace. I was tired of listening to him hit the heavy bag in a TAPOUT shirt. This song is not good, but hey. Pace has changed. Note, that this doesn’t appear in all track listings of this album. WHY DO ALBUMS CHANGE AS TIME FKRS ON. IF YOU WANT TO ADD NEW SONGS, please release a new album, thank you. Liberate - That little hammer-on section at the end of that main riff almost reminds me of Evisceration Plague by Cannibal Corpse. That’s kinda cool. Prosthetics - The riffs continue to impress. As does the production in general. There is a lot going on in the background here, and it all feels clear, yet still raw. Without the repetition of the braindead lyrics, this is one of the better tracks on the record. No Life - Oh we’re ribbity rappin’ now. This group thrives in the more extreme moments. Despite the rap being “extremely”cringeworthy, I find myself drinking deeply from the oasis’ that are the hard-driving sections of this track. They’re very very good. Diluted - There are a lot of tracks here. It’s almost as if they’re becoming “diluted” in some way. A brave commentary on their own work. Only One - STEP INTO THE CAGE (onto my trampoline). MY MOM IS OUT OF TOWN AND IVE BEEN WATCHING NOTHING BUT BAS RUTTEN CLIPS ON THE NEW APP THAT IS YOUTUBE. Only one of us walks away. I believe that will be me, laughing at you. Scissors - Loooong close here. Wrap it up fellas. Eeyore - Man I don’t remember Eeyore being this angry. I suppose he’s been depressed for so long, it’s good to see the lil guy feeling something for a change. When you call a piece of art “childlike,” there is often an associated image of something innocent or whimsical. When you call a piece of art adolescent, it is almost always an insult and conjures images of immaturity, brash ignorance or outright stupidity. A lot of the lyrics on this project veer towards the adolescent side of things here. Now, as a teenager, this helped me get into more extreme music that I continue to discover to this day, but listening back, this didn’t quite stand up to the proverbial sands of time. There is a blatant rawbone stupidity that inspires every macho “FUCK YOU” that peppers the prose sheet of this project but I couldn’t help but be enthralled by some of it. The riffs and general atmosphere work, at elet down by the vocal delivery, but not enough for me to say I didn’t have a decent time here. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: (sic), Eyeless

We’re back in this horrible text box, rather than the notes app. After a long hiatus and a day yesterday that felt like punishment, it is now time to interact with a group that I don’t have much knowledge of. Looking through the track listing, it appears that firstly, I will not be able to type most of these song titles, and second, I’m going to have to sit through an ungodly amount of interludes. Why must rap albums do this? Please appeal to my autism addled brain by just having 8-12 songs that are all songs and don’t change from release to release. Please? No? Well, whatever. It’s time for a bizarre ride (II). Oh and if I’ll probably skip interludes, at least in terms of reviews. Oh Shit - Very early 90s but there is enough fun in the verses where I’m pretty happy so far. Hoping the flows switch up to some extent as we venture down this rollercoaster. Hey. Now we have an early 90’s transgender panic verse. No album is complete without it. 4 Better or 4 Worse - This reminds me of some of that weird Texas horror core shock stuff. I kind of like where it goes near the end. Almost ignoring the bizarre beginning lending a very eccentric quality to the song. It’s keeping my attention for sure. I don’t really care for the shock rap lyrics, but the beat is good, and the end sort of saves it. I’m That Type of Ni**a - It’s so lame, but I still don’t really think I should be typing this word for the internet. I’ve typed some other inane shit, but I stand by most of that. Solid beat and energetic deliveries here. Hell yeah. Soul Flower (Remix) - Beat is so infectious but the lyrics are just kind of dumb. A lot of hip-hop from this era seemed to depend on just making rhymes. Hey uh huh hey I’m makin’ rhymes doin’ times chimes himes, plimes jimmy jammin’ fiddle dee dee climbs. Boom. I’m a revolutionary poet in 1992. On the DL - Man these beats are so good. I believe this is the story on this group. The production is just next level. The lyrics are still whatever to me. I’ve heard people mention a unique brand of humour? Hey, if you’re tickled by detailed stories of a guy jerking off in his girlfriend’s bathroom, then I’m sure you’ll can listen to this on your way to the MENSA meeting. Officer - Another great beat. The Public Enemy thing is pretty funny to be fair. Fine. I will admit that. Ya Mama - Calling somebody’s mama “a sellout” is also funny. The humour is starting to come through a little bit. Passin’ Me By - I do really enjoy the high-pitched rapper’s delivery. It creates some sonic variety between each of the members. He usually says really dumb stuff, but on this beat? He could say almost anything. Any of them could. A very very enjoyable rap song. Otha Fish - THIS SONG SUCKS. Why is this such a departure? Pack The Pipe - Decently funny stoner anthem. Enjoyable. Return of the B-Boy - A party closer to the record. Very celebratory and happy. This is a mostly inoffensive, happy record that has an infectious nice feeling. I suppose that’s what can say about it. I typically gravitate towards albums that are angry or have something negative to say about, well, anything. That’s a very base reduction of my music tastes, but it does generally ring true that when presented with “happy” albums, I tend to be bored. That’s was not the case here as the jokes (whether they landed or not) were frequent and the production/beats were sublime. I’m all tuckered out writing as evidenced by another piss poor review. At least the music was enjoyable. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: I’m That Type of Ni**a, Passin’ Me By, Pack the Pipe

William Holiday. Excellent. The 50’s. My most overinflated decade. Nothing has been outright bad, but nothing has blown my mind either. Of course because the rest of the music from other eras has been generally so dreadful, it looks from my profile as though I’m one of those guys that wears porkpie hats and pines for the bygone era of lobotomized housewives and segregation. I’m not, ok? I know that Billie Holiday has a unique voice, so I’m excited for this, but I’m not excited for every song to be along the same lyrical lines as every other 50s song. Ooooh you love me and I love you, OR you don’t love me, but I love you OR we loved but you left for another. The trinity of boredom. Will the unique tone of her voice trump tired lyrical tropes? Or will I be whisked in a blender of mediocrity? What is that metaphor? Ugh. I’m a Fool to Want You - Oh boy. This is what this is hey? Billie Holiday near the end of her life. The voice is raspy. This is the exact kind of sentiment that fits this sound. Miserable, dark, and eerie. For Heaven’s Sake - See, this is the opposite of what this should be. This is incredibly creepy, but seeing as it isn’t intentional, it just comes off as sad. You Don’t Know What Love Is - Not a huge fan of the instrumentation on this one. It feels soaring and triumphant at times where that just shouldn’t be the case here. Between the voice and the general state of this person singing, this should take a different avenue. I Get Along Without You Very Well - More Disney music with these tortured vocals that are singing the strangest lyrics I can fathom this voice to sing. For All We Know - What can I say? This format may be dead soon. I can’t comment on each and every track when they’re all kinda the same thing. Violets For Your Furs - What a bummer of a trade. I suppose PETA will be amped that you have got rid of your furs, but a paltry bouquet of violets? Sad. You’ve Changed - Heartbreaking. More of the same musical stuff here, with this odd happy orchestration. It’s Easy to Remember - But hard to get through. But Beautiful - Man this really is just so dark. Like there is nothing beautiful about this album. I feel like I’m watching somebody sing at a funeral, and they can’t make it through the songs due to crying. I’m in pain listening to this. Glad to be Unhappy - Well you’re going to LOVE this album. I’ll Be Around - I’ll be a member of the “Rounds” in seminal 2004 improvisational paintball movie “Blackballed.” That reference is only for the realest of the real. Yo my name is Clifford. The End of a Love Affair - A same sounding end to this meandering path through hell. Poorly cobbled streets guide us to the nowhere we always knew was coming. There is an element of insanity to this record. Like an old widow in a Victorian mansion being accompanied by her strange, obedient grandson. It feels like it’s out of a horror movie. It’s like somebody bought a 50’s standard karaoke album and let a heartbroken, grandmother ramble over the top. Her voice is haunting. This isn’t a criticism of a singer, but rather the composition of this record. She sounds out of her depth, and while it was emotionally poignant, it felt exploitative, rather than a direct account from the woman herself. Hold your breath; I feel like we’re about to pass a cemetery. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: I’m a Fool to Want You

*AIRHORN NOISES* You KNOW as a white 20 something I am fucking JAZZED to see this one. WOOOOOOO. Heavy bass samples await me. Some slightly dumb rhymes, sure but did I mention double bass jazz samples??? I feel like I could review this one from this side of this listen. Sometimes my opinion gets changed, but seeing the amount of green checkmarks (Sp**ify reference) on this bad boy, I’m in for a hell of a day. Excursions - THE PROPHECY HAS BEEN FULFILLED. This sample rips, Q-Tip is so incredibly cool and proves it with this smooth delivery out of the start. The saxophone jumping in as well? This is so far ahead of its time. I forgot that we saved “Phife Dawg” for the next track. Well, consider me as they say “addicted to the beat.” Buggin’ Out - UGHHH it’s the best. This is one of the top 5 hip-hop beats ever. So simple, so incredibly hard. Phife Dawg’s delivery is so electric. Always attacking the beat full-on as a stark contrast to the more cool & collected flow of Q-Tip. Man there are so many quotables. Has to be one of my favourite rap songs ever. Rap Promoter - Why can’t people do this anymore? Despite my noticeably white skin, I feel like I listen to a decent amount of hip-hop and this beat doesn’t come around every day. Like what is going on with this? Full chills. So unbelievably heavy. Butter - The review writes itself. That transition was smooth like uhh it’s on the tip of my tongue. I’ve lost it. Anyway, we’re listening to a story about how the rapper is a player. Not sure about saying “I used to abuse em’” but I suppose we love an honest rapper. Verses From the Abstract - Busta Rhymes is here. Supposedly. His name was mentioned, but I think it’s awhile before we get the infamous “chickity choco the chocolate chicken” bar. Ron Carter was here. This is the obligatory shoutout track. Show Business - Probably too many features here as the other rappers couldn’t really clean the microphone of the main two guys here, but this is a fun multi-rapper track. Love Phife Dawg’s verse here. So devastatingly funky. I mean the toilet paper line is a little cringeworthy, but the ferocity is so good. Vibes and Stuff - A quieter track. Almost feels like a break of sorts as we prepare for the avalanche of classics coming near the end. Nothing here is even close to bad. Still an enjoyable track. Infamous Date Rape - Uh oh. I’m hoping we will be on the right side of history here. Ehhh. It’s a little woman-blamey at parts. Just a weird departure. Waste of a fantastic beat. Check the Rhime - You on point fly MC who is very brave? Why, yes, yes he is. This is so quotable. The whole thing. The “on point” exchange with the conversational pauses and inflections is so god damn fun and will be stuck in my head for weeks. It always gets that way. Everything is Fair - What about living in a tenement structure in society Georgia? Is everything fair there? The answer may shock you. I have no idea. I would be more intrigued if the US state of Georgia seceded into a communist state. I would win a LOT of money. Jazz (We’ve Got) - The epitome of a jazz rap song. Raise up squire is the type of dumb word combo that I live for. There are just so many fun quotes I recall from this record. They roll off the tongue. I even like the shoutouts. I usually find them to be funny, but they have such a wholesome, cool quality here. Skypager - I still have no idea what a skypager is. Do you just use it when you want sexual relations? That seems overly simple. Loving the Duracell product placement on this one. What? - Some of the questions of our time. Scenario - The classic party track. Home to one of the best atmospheres ever to grace a rap LP and to be fully honest, some of the worst rhymes ever put to tape. Can you imagine writing the words is a “wow now how now brown cow” or “scooby doo ba doo boo” or whatveer and not only keeping it, but recording it in a studio. If I wrote that earnestly, I would be so embarrassed, that I would burn the notebook and never write again. The song still goes hard though. Obligatory praise for Busta Rhymes absolutely destroying at the end there, even though he brings his fair share of dumbass bars, he murders it. Q-Tip and noted short king, Phife Dawg are just so great. Are there hip hop records I enjoy more than this? Yes. Is this still a seminal hip-hop/jazz rap/East Coast/Boom Bap etc. record. Oh hell yes. The lyrics are hit or miss, but the beats are incredible and the delivery is electric. This thing is a monster. A million years ahead of its time while still being firmly rooted in the old school. Damn near perfect and a complete revolution for this type of music. 4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Excursions, Buggin’ Out, Rap Promoter, Check the Rhime, Jazz (We’ve Got), Scenario

Literally me. I debated just leaving the review at that. Unfortunately, this sick ass album cover is not recorded by Spotify. Devastating. The easy confidence of this individual combined with the sassy t shirt stretched over ample torso girth makes for a truly memorable snap. Gets me ready for what will assuredly be an overly repetitive slog. Right Here, Right Now - I don’t love being right all the time, you know. I wish this wasn’t another dance music situation where we have to endure an hour of noises meant to be enjoyed in a nightclub with other things going on. Rockafeller Skank - This reminds me of huddling around the GameCube and skating around virtual Barcelona in the 2004 video game, Tony Hawk’s Underground 2. Played the living bejeezus out of that one. Should play it again. Anyway, this song is actually really great. So much more variety, and while it has that constant spine as many electronic songs do, there is enough variety around it to keep me interested. Especially that heavy breakdown around 4 minutes in. Hell yeah. Way to go, Fatboy, if that is your real name. In Heaven - Fatboy Slim is doing what? This is back to the repetition stink pile. A dumpster of annoying sounds that I’m sure was very difficult to put together, but it was arguably more difficult to endure for 6 minutes. Gangster Trippin - Ahh see this one is really fun. Just an undeniable groove. Shave a minute off for the dopamine addicted generation and you’ve got an absolute “bop” here. Build It Up, Tear It Down - Alright, the word that I will use again and again here is “fun.” There is a really exciting energy to all of this at this point. Kalifornia - Ditto the last track review. I’m losing interest in the track review formula, but I want to comment on individual moments still. Uhh. Well. Uhh, this is fun again. Soul Surfing - We’ve got swamp noises. I don’t know how else to describe those synth stabs, but they’re sick. You’re Not From Brighton - How did you know??? Praise You - An imperious megalith of nostalgia rises from the murky brine. The brine wasn’t all that murky, but hey, the megalith still rises. Is megalith even a word, or is that just death metal album knowledge rearing its ugly head. I love this song. It’s still fun to this day. The gentle singing is super camp, and the beat remains funk Love Island - A song as entertaining as the show that shares its name. Which is to say that it’s kind of entertaining in a “can’t look away from the train wreck” sort of fashion. Acid 8000 - About time we had some more drug innovations. For too long we’ve been friggin’ around with original acid. What is this, the 60s? Get with the times. This drug is super cool, you take it and just immediately fucking die, BUT you get to kind of feel pretty good for 2.8 seconds right before. It’s all the rage. This was a lot of fun. It takes a special artist to be able to instil this much personality into a record where you don’t even appear. It’s a collection of borrowed sounds and clips mashed into a digestible format that somehow has excitement and musicality in spades. Was it too long? Yes. Was it overly repetitive? At times. But not as bad as I thought it would be. Now that the “asking myself questions I know the answer to” portion of the review is out of the way, I can say that I had a good time with this. Not as good as whatever kind of time the man on the front cover is having, but I have a similar smile after listening to this Fatboy Slim project. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Rockafeller Skank, Gangster Trippin, Kalifornia, Praise You

John Prine John Prine John Prine John Prine. AmaJohn Prine. The big haystack himself. Bill Hicks impersonator extraordinaire. We’re back after a long weekend (not long enough am I right fellas????) and ready for the year music leaked according to this list Illegal Smile - That’s right everybody, the libs are trying to make smiling illegal. Wait wouldn’t that side be excited about that. Who knows. Buddy lost a stare down with a bowl of oatmeal. Liked that line. The words are very interesting, but unfortunately, it sounds like Raffi for adults. Spanish Pipedream - American man goes to Montreal. This song is better. Small amount of grit has been acquired and the lyrics remain a foray into deep left-field. Hello in There - This is what it’s like to be John Prine’s pet and live in a small cage as he tunes his guitar. Hello in there. This isn’t the beautiful song he thinks it is, but it’s not as bad as I thought it might get. A decent exploration of monotony and changes that accompany the passage of time. Sam Stone - Now that’s a good song. Dark track about drug abuse and the post-war perils faced by veterans of war. The lyrics are very creative; non pretentious, yet extremely creative. Two thumbs up. Paradise - Hell yeah. Gettin’ real folk-y. Up in them hills type beat. There is a lot to be said about our personal attachments to places. I get a lot out of this. Pretty Good - YEAH! This rips. Sad and blunt with a beautifully catchy chorus. Such an attitude on this one. Love it. Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You Into Heaven Anymore - BASED. Listen up dorks. Talk about being attached to a place, but this time in a negative light. All these doofus nationalistic christians who blindly support genocides, both foreign and domestic in the name of their god or country need to sit and listen to this song until they develop some level of sentience. Might be awhile. Far From Me - Heartbreaking. A little more repetitive than the previous tracks, but maintains the lonely charm I’ve come to enjoy. Angel from Montgomery - All lyrics here. Song itself is bleh, but the words have me on the edge of my seat. I’m not going to be able to pen a dissertation here about what exactly each phrase means to me, but hey, each word tends to grab me and at least lurch my brain out of idle. That’s a victory. Quiet Man - News for me? Well here’s some news for you, pal, I’ve got nothing for you. This is a banger. Donald and Lydia - Buddy loves talking about the days of the week. “It felt just like Sunday on Saturday afternoon.” That line left a smouldering crater where it landed here with me. Some lines just speak to you directly and that one was phrased so well. Music itself is once again just fine, but the lyricism continues to blow me away. Six O’Clock News - Ugh man. This one devastated me as well. Never been happier to be depressed. Atta boy Prine man. Flashback Blues - Verging towards the riverboat. A boring close. Should’ve let it linger in the devastation of the previous track. What I would give to be able to write like John Prine can write. He’s like Bob Dylan without the performative pretension. The way he doesn’t over explain, but still tells a coherent story is truly masterful. The lyrics on this record have carved a path in my mind. I will be revisiting this work as the music was competent and I cannot say enough about the prose. This record made a big impact with me. Time may increase its value even further. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Spanish Pipedream, Sam Stone, Sam Stone, Pretty Good, Quiet Man, Six O’Clock News

Oh boy! It looks like it’s going to be lazy, bland rock and from the description including Damon Albarn of Gorillaz fame, I don’t have high hopes for this. 2007 also tends to be the kiss of death. I can’t believe people will one day be nostalgic for that time. I will have to tell my children that I grew up in the most boring time in human history. I mean not much was going on in the 800s or whatever, but at least you don’t have the lamest bards of that time pressed to tape for all eternity. Liek if ur still listening to Parnellio of House Dagon in 934🔥. The Northern reach tavern set still gets regular rotation. History Song - YES! Reggae influence!!! 80s Life - YES! Doo Wop Coldplay! Northern Whale - I like whales. They’re cool. Imagine them just rolling around in the oceans. The size of em. Oceans are crazy to think about. Kingdom of Doom - Another cool song title. That’s great! Herculean - This track describes my feat of listening to this garbage list for almost a year. SUB 2.5 average rating. That will dip further today. Behind the Sun - The infinity of black unknown. Life in its own right disqualified by the feeble minds of man. What we describe, we acknowledge. What evades our description exists entirely outside the reaching arm of humanity. Comprehension means we must acknowledge we are the infinitesimal in an infinite system beyond our grasp. The Bunting Song - Dis song sucks. Nature Springs - Oh man! Another banger!! This guy can’t miss! A Soldier’s Tale - STIIIIIIIIIRIKE 3. Oh no he didn’t even swing at that. Yeah bat didn’t leave the shoulders, Jim. Not Damon’s day. Three Changes - ONE cool moment on this record and it’s still vaguely reggae influenced. The latter section of this track is really the only passage I’ve been moderately alert for. Green Fields - I can imagine the euphoria of the afterlife. I am gazing at the fields of infinite bliss through teary eyes. We’re meeting the end. The Good, The Bad And The Queen - even the rare triplicate title can’t awake me from the coma induced by this disappointing slog. Man that sucked. Just the most boring, dull wallpaper sounding nothing rock I’ve heard in a bit. This sounds like the music from the rock band they invent for a TV show. Like an episode of CSI: Miami where The guitarist dies or something. I’ve had some fun listening to Gorillaz hits, but I’ve had more fun watching gorillas at the zoo. They’re just so human like!! Unlike this album which sounds like it was made by one of those bands that are entirely AI that the ghouls in the music industry create to sell the concept of losing our humanity for the profit of like 15 dudes. Ugh. Get this out of my face. 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: All barn, no joy.

With this band name and title, how are we in 1979? “The Fall” is absolutely some 2008 emo band that has shouted vocals and clean passages. The next question I have is will this actually be live? I can presume they aren’t doing a live set back in time at the Salem witch trials, but is it just a clever little quirky title for their deluxe set from meeting room B at the Holiday Inn Detroit? These are the questions that keep me momentarily interested while I procrastinate starting this endeavour once more. Only 736 more to go. Jesus Christ. Burning at the stake is sounding like a nice alternative here. Frightened - The Fall is frightened and I’m STOKED. Weird proto-punk spoken word music? I’m in heaven. Some of sort of weird autistic male heaven. I can smell the steam from the model locomotives. Crap Rap 2like to Blow - This reads like an old man on Facebook criticizing a black singer. Remember when racism had to at least have a small veil placed over it? Guy likes to blow apparently. Good for him. Rebellious Jukebox - Too much repetition here and I want this to be over. How the might have FALLen. Man. I’m a natural born comedian. No Xmas for John Quays - Yeah!! Fuck you John boy. Two fingers pal. The British way. This is a return to form. Hell yeah. Disclaimer. I do not know who John Quays is. Mother-Sister! - Quirky keyboard is back with fast punk beats. I’m a happy fella. Sufficiently odd and heavy for regular rotation. Industrial Estate - This is one of the more uninspired tracks on the record. Underground Medecin - I found a reason not to die. This fucking RIPS. Two Steps Back - Calm. Pensive Punks are having a field day with this one. Wait did he mention the cracker factory??? I wonder if he’s a big wheel down there. Did I just mention Big Wheel? Don’t get me started on that guy. Legend of the villain game. Live at the Witch Trials - Oh hell yeah. Just hook this type of shit to my veins and leave in my modern day opium den. Which is just this type of music playing while I attend AI generated walrus jousting events from my padded cell. 2027 can’t come soon enough. Futures and Pasts - This close to writing Pasta. That would’ve been a faux pas! The direct translation of that doesn’t really make sense. Learning about other languages makes me feel dumb. I suppose the feeling has to match the aptitude at some point. 30 minutes in and out. This thing rules. Artistic punk rock that was ahead of its time and never got boring for me. There are some proto-punk tropes that pop up here and there but there is so much intrigue in the instrumentation, so many quotable one-liners and a palpable beastly energy that propel this record past those tropes with ease. I had a great time throughout and I really don’t have much else on this. Great album out of absolutely nowhere. BAH GOD!! HE HAS A FAMILY. YOU SON OF A BITCH WHY?? TELL ME WHY?? Mixing my JR calls, but you get the picture. Get outta here. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Frightened, No Xmas for John Quays, Mother-Sister!, Underground Medecin, Live at the Witch Trials

AHHHH. AHHHHH OH GOD NO AHHHHHH ITS A DINOSAUR AHHHHH HE UHHH actually he’s riding a swan. What the hell? This guy is dapper as hell. He’s got a top hat? Is that a? A tattooed gown? This Dino is loaded! Hey man, spare some change? AHHH OH GOD HE ONLY HAS DINAR FROM THE FORMER YUGOSLAV REPUBLIC AAAAHHHH THIS IS NOT ACCEPTED IN MOST OF THE REGION AND IS ESSENTIALLY VALUELESS AFTER YEARS OF HYPERINFLATION AAAAHHHHH NOOOO. Oh wait a second. That’s not a dinosaur. It’s famous rock album Electric Warrior by the BAND T Rex. I’ve made a fool of myself. Mambo Sun - With a song title that expertly weaves two horrible concepts into a little ball of cringe, I’m surprised this as enjoyable as it is. Cosmic Dancer - I was Dunce-ing when I was those ages too. They brought back the whole hat and corner concept after I mistakenly referred to the study of animal behaviours as “bestiality.” Proud to have been a part of the tradition returning. Again, somehow more enjoyable than it has any right to be. Jeepster - Oh yeah. This is what I play every time I get into my Jeep (Honda Fit). I show up at Jeep rallies with my obvious jeep and say things like “how many inaccessible bogs you tear this baby through?” And then I slap my car’s hood and say “Oh yeah I conquered Festoon Lagoon last week in this here jeep. I’m a HUGE jeepster.” I was physically assaulted in Tucson last year. Two men left in tears. Ugh this song is the worst so far. Monolith - Shuddering beneath the cold granite. Bloodshot eyes weighed down with consequence. Bask in the aura of ages. Like the source of all life, gazing directly upon the monolith is enough for cessation of all life. The curiosity overwhelms, the earth opens up into a ravenous yawning maw. Jewelled eyes glow their last as life crumbles around the books where this was written. Clairvoyant prophecies. Human error erased. Lean Woman Blues - A firm endorsement of “Fat Bottomed Girls years before it’s time. Get It On - One of the two T. Rex songs I’ve heard before this fateful day and it still hits pretty hard. Loved it as a wee guy and it still holds up as a cool pop rock song to this day. Planet Queen - Ughhh this is sort of jumping the shark for me. Girl - Now Fonzie has been caught in mid air and is being disemboweled by the shark in question. The cameras keep rolling as Happy Days has taken a miserable turn. Sunday, Monday Shark Attack. Tuesday Wednesday biker themed funeral. They had to do two days because of the recovery effort. Not much was left of Fonzie. RIP. The Motivator - This is Get it On with somehow more sexual moaning and a weird didgeridoo outro. So a BETTER version. Life’s a Gas - Lynyrd Skynyrd and Lou Reed had a baby and the baby was the product of infidelity and shares no traits with Lynyrd Skynyrd at its core but has also picked up some of its mannerisms by osmosis. Rip Off - Oh were rockin’ now. For some reason we needed to interrupt the serene calm of this record and my perfectly rational reviewing skills with screaming heard outside some particularly contentious Arby’s locations. HEY PAL. YOU CALL THIS “EXTRA MEAT?” This one may be a grower as it didn’t knock me on my ass this time around. I know how much reverence this album conjures in musical nerd circles but it just didn’t blow me away. It hits my ears as dumb glam rock that occasionally has a soft or sweet moment. The lyrics were more boring than I had hoped considering we’ve got former “Mother of Invention” members on this thing. This is a true monument to the death of the 60s and the beginning of boring sex culture that overtook the radical protests and drug-induced psychotic breaks that coloured the very colourful previous decade. Time marches on. Hey, now everything is described using therapy buzzwords while all products are designed to fail in order to enrich an increasingly shrinking group of people resulting in a growing homelessness problem worldwide. What was I talking about? This album was meh. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Mambo Sun, Get it On, Life’s a Gas

It’s not MINGUS MINGUS MINGUS MINGUS MINGUS, but it IS jazz and that means today is a good day. Sayonara Britpop. See you in hell, New Wave. You know, because I’m now a worldly musical aficionado, I know that Charles Mingus is a bassist and I now realize that he’s not playing a horn on the front cover, but rather lighting a sick ass pipe. And that hat? This is one of the hardest album covers we’ve had come up. Secret to appealing album covers: pipes and hats. Throw in a quote from a poem, and we’re open for business. Big time. Solo Dancer (Stop! Look! And Listen, Sinner Jim Whitney!) - Yes. That is the song title. I don’t make the rules. If I did, I’d make it a rule that we listen to jazz every day. Mandatory Hard Bop hour. This is so layered and cool. The repetitive, lurching horns create this atmosphere of beautiful chaos LISTEN TO THAT BASS. This is great. Duet Solo Dancers (Hearts’ Beat and Shades in Physical Embraces) - Oh man. This is when technical knowledge might help me a lot. All I can say is “the part where it slows down and it sounds like the horns are talking in muffled human voices is gud.” I truly have a way with words. Yeah, uhh a get out of the way! Alright. Group Dancers (Soul Fusion) (Freewoman and Oh, This Freedom’s Slave Cries) - What the hell. Man are we getting flamenco passages followed by flute solos? Insane. Truly wonderful. Trio and Group Dancers (Stop! Look! And Sing of Revolutions!) / Single Solis and Group Dance (Saint and Sinner Join in Merriment on Battle Front) / Group and Solo Dance (Of Love, Pain and Passioned Revolt, Then farewell, My Beloved, ‘Til It’s Freedom Day) - Are there enough words in that title? Did I close all the parentheses? Who cares. This album is too good to even sit here and make dumb jokes that don’t translate well to the written word. That’s usually my MO. Another classic track that fits seamlessly as part of this incredible record. Due to my early perusals on RYM, I’ve been aware of this album for years. I believe I tried to listen to it once in my younger days, but it was a little too far out at that point. This album is much like coffee. Energizing, soothing, vibrant, and certainly an acquired taste. I have acquired that taste. From the driving basslines to the fantastically interesting song titles, to the instrumental tricks, this is some of the best jazz has to offer. Hook this to my veins and don’t stop til I say when. I want the full jazz experience. Intravenous drug use included. 5 HIGHLIGHTS: Don’t ask me. Come on man, don’t ask me.

Sensational? I’ll be the judge of that. That’s why I’m here isn’t it? I like to imagine that the sole purpose of this endeavour was to get the lazy musings of a poorly educated Canadian with little to no musical knowledge. That was the lofty pipe dream of our dear author when he first set out on what was and remains a monumental triumph of a starter guide. A labour of love dashed upon the jagged rocks of a small text box. With universally appreciated art spilling into the murky brine of “this was kinda mid,” we sift through the wreckage and pull another of the 1001 remnants of the capsized craft. What horrors will die in my arms this fateful morn? Swampsnake - A song title that can only be described as “rad as hell” begins our first foray into what sounds to be uhh Religious? The singer is a little unhinged. That is surprising. I don’t care about it, but it’s surprising. Gang Bang - if this is that gangster music that the kids are listening to, I am fully on board with banishing it to the nether realm. This is the late night act on a cruise ship for adults. If that doesn’t make your skin crawl, we have nothing to discuss. Horrific. Longest 15 minutes of my life. It was 4 minutes? Wonderful. The Faith Healer - Who gave this moron a studio? This song is an extended intro for the band that is the central crux in a wet dream in the head of a delusional man in the midst of a mid-life crisis. I need a medical healer. Let’s leave deities out of this. I feel ill. Maybe I need to restore a Chevy Bel-Air and make a female administrative worker uncomfortable. The American dream. Giddy Up a Ding dong - Fuck you for making me write that. This is not “fun.” This just sucks. Like being at a wedding where everybody is drunk except you. Just a bunch of sunburnt lushes writhing around in the sun to this garbage while you dream of a prolonged hermitage deep under the earth. Dead or alive. Next - Hey! That’s what I’ve been saying. NEXT. I hate that is the best song by far. It at least has a sense of irony and humour. Although based on the previous tracks, maybe this is sincerity I’m mistaking for taste. Incredibly, this reminds me of black midi. I’m holding my nose for this next part. I like this song. Ugh. Vambo Marble Eye - We’re back in stink town. Alex and the boys have a permanent residency atop the stinkiest landfill in stink town. Get ready to hear “Gang Bang” on repeat. If you’re lucky, they’ll do the whispered gang vocals of Vambo Marble Eye to the visual of fat boomers snapping their unwirked fingers to the beat. The Last of the Teenage Idols - See when I ask people to call me “The Sheik of Tomorrow” they get really upset. I for one, will not call this idiot anything of the sort, but I will call him a terrible musician. Well. Terrible is relative and in the eye of the beholder, but as the current beholder, I will use that authority to say I hate this. This was a violent plummeting through labyrinthine terrors hitherto unseen. Maybe sight is not the sense I most associate this record with. Let’s go with smell. Boy howdy did this album stink. What was this? A horrible band playing sleazy songs for the sleaziest demographic. This is music for the kind of people that think “no” means “keep trying” and I ain’t talking about trying to land employment. Sure, I’ve had a laugh at my own expense here in saying that I am a musical moron, but I certainly know what I like and don’t like. This is entrenched solidly in the “don’t like” camp. Abandon ship, and while you’re at it, abandon all hope for 70s boogaloo sweat rock. If you had any of that hope to begin with, you sadden me. Call your children. They hate your new wife. 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Next. No really! It was good.

The popularity of reviews on this site baffles me. Controversial albums in particular. This record currently sits at a lowly 2.39 average rating after more than 15000 listens. What I have noticed about the reviews on albums like these is that the garbage rises to the top. They almost always contain references to bodily functions, meaning that the average mental age of this platform ranges from 6-13. I’m not saying I’ll like this record. In fact, when it was teased that there will be an industrial cover of a Queen song entirely in German, I suddenly remembered my headphones are broken and I am busy today. With that said, this is a plea to the most dimwitted amongst you. Learn jokes besides “poop” and “sex.” That is all. Be like me. Copy the Simpsons until people forget their jokes and start attributing them to me. THAT’s the adult way. Leben Heißt Leben - New character used in a review. Apparently this band is from Slovenia? What’s with the German? I don’t know man. I wanted to like this; but it’s anthemic German Rock. It SUCKS. Music for Rammstein fans who are somehow more racist. Gebert Einer Nation - Gerber baby nation. Rise up. It’s TIME to divest our stock options with Gerber and invest in a NEW baby product manufacturer. Listen, I like the horns on this one, and the vocals are good, but I’m still just kind of bemused. Leben - Tod - Google, please tell me what Nine Inch Nails is in German. Ahh. Neun-Zoll-Nägel. This is like a worse version of that. It’s a simple riff with gruff, growled vocals. It’s not that bad, but I’m just kind of bored by the repetition and pomp. F.I.A.T - Oh boy! More military sounds. The spoken word sections debut the first English passages of the record. I’m not sure what “Hugger-Muggered” means but I like it. Sounds threatening and adorable. This hooked me slightly but it lost its lustre as it continued. Opus Dei - DEI?? Uh oh. Better call the worst person you know and tell them to avoid this album. They might find out about a woman with a job, and you wouldn’t want to ruin their day. Wait, isn’t this the English version of the first song? Not good. Trans-National - We’re really falling off if a cliff here. When the bizarre, discordant horns show up, the song is much cooler, but the martial, rhythmic chanting can go anytime. How the West Was Won - Not with this track! The Great Seal - Yeah that’s a pretty big seal. There seems to be some visceral hatred for this record. I was looking forward to that because I assumed it would at least give me some extreme feeling one way or the other. It did not. This was just sort of trance-like and any cogent political message was lost on me as a non-German speaker and overall simpleton. I don’t care about this. When this is referenced again as son controversial, divisive record I will have to strain to recall anything about this. No reason for this to be on here. You want to make an impact by being weird? Try being weirder. You want to make an impact by being a band that makes “martial industrial music?” Seek help. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: i liek wen dey march

Bewilderbeast. I wish I had thought of that. Now I’m pissed. I’m also pissed that this album cover exists. What the hell is happening with this friggin guy? Just some quirked up white boy in his horrible homunculus exoskeleton. I guess that’s why the call it the hour of the bewilderbeast. The hour is 11am, and I am the beast in question. I’m getting all riled up now. Run the tape. The Shining - This is just like that book. Yeah you know the one. “Pizza for Morons - Turn on the oven you fucking idiot.” Challenging read, but I’ve started making my own pies and have never looked back. Everybody’s Stalking - Then who is stalking the stalkers? Who is stocking the stalks? Who is stalking the stockers? What about the people who like to talk about stalks? Will they be put in stocks? What about when a stock recipe calls for celery stalks? Nobody is asking these questions and that’s why I have written a new novel “Into the Ground - My Comedy Journey from Nowhere to “Now Here” (reviewing music on 1001albumsgenerstor.com) Bewilder - This interlude is a great time to peddle my NEWEST novel “BE Wilder - A tribute to the 2005-2006 Minnesota Wild alum Filip Kuba.” It’s a real hunk of junk, but licensing real celebrities is expensive. Fall in a River - Rivers don’t have seasons. Idiot. Camping Next to Water - He said it! Right at the start he said the song title. This guy does not mess around. Stone on the Water - This guy love this water hey? First he sets up camp, then he does some weird stuff with rocks. Out to lunch. Another Pearl - The song for bored mistresses the world over. Great. ANOTHER pearl. Jeez what’s next? A diamond? You’re a revolutionary. This one is very 2000s. I guess I should periodically mention the music. Kind of ruins the mood though. I think I’ll continue not talking about it. Body Rap - Yo it’s my tibia and my fibula rockin’ on down to those crazy carpals. Once Around the Block - Well, this is an awkward moment. I had to stop listening to this yesterday for some reason and never started back up. It is now tomorrow. The 48 hours of Bewilderbeast. We’re beyond the first 48. This Song - AAAAAHHHH NOOO THE SOUND MAKES ME FEEL ALL WEIRD. Bewilderbeast - Yup. It’s a song. Magic in the Air - I can feel it coming in the uhh. Oh man. What’s that song. I can. SHIT. FUCK. Cause a Rockslide - You monster. There were people in the village. Pissing in the Wind - Repetition, the musical. Blistered Heart - I really have to stop this track by track reviewing nonsense. “Reviewing.” Listen to me. Stream of consciousness journaling that needs to be turned over to some authority. Disillusion - Ew this song is gross. Quirky English public transit patron wants to write a radio hit. “I could do it better and with a two minute keyboard solo.” Say It Again - As long as you don’t sing it again, I’ll be alright. Epitaph - Here lies this album. Never to be heard again. Some of the greatest minds in music gather in a smoky conference room. There’s an empty chalkboard to be filled with the greatest, most influential musical recordings ever to be released by humanity. The ideas are flowing. Years of expertise distilled into the furious brainstorming of these musical fanatics. “Well obviously, David Bowie!!” This is met with uproarious applause and glee. Furious scribbling on the chalkboard ensues. “Learned Cohen, Nick Cave!!” One reviewer passes out, while one author fans him back to consciousness, literal champagne bottles have been uncorked and the room now reeks of alcohol and the heavy dew of sweat. Both from the exhaustion and the exhilaration. “Nick Cave… AGAIN!” Now it’s pandemonium. The older reviewers are hastily misdialling 9-1-1, whilst the young ones revel in drunken ecstasy. Through the elation, an English accent ekes into the airspace “uhh do you guys like Badly Drawn Boy.” A hush interrupts the celebrations. Eyes turn towards a man in the corner of the room that they hadn’t noticed before. A meek gentleman who was not recognized as one of the main contributors to this burgeoning compendium of musical greatness. “Err umm yeah they’re really great and they also heavily influenced umm.” He’s cut off. “I really think we have enough here, man. None of us have heard of this” say the suddenly irked reviewers. “I just think it’s umm really good and my dad paid for this room so.” The main author rubs his eyes in frustration and sighs deeply. “It is getting late” he exhales. “Fine, we’ve run a little thin here anyway. I can’t even think of any more Bruce Springsteen records, so let’s give it to Big Drawer boy or whatever. “Badly Drawn Boy” the man weakly corrects. “Yeah whatever. Great work here gentlemen.” The authors and the incognito Damon Gough leave the room knowing they compiled a true starter guide to a uniquely human art that also included this album for some reason. 2 HIGHLIGHTS - Warren Zevon - Excitable Boy.

Some days you’re the regular guy on the suit. Some days you’re the guy who is burning alive and forced to attend a business meeting in what appears to be either a vacant movie studio lot or military barracks. Either way, it’s hot, I’m uncomfortable and I’m ready to boomered. I pray that by listening to this album I too can stumble into dirt cheap property and a penchant for being completely oblivious. I think I’ve got point number 2 about halfway sewn up. Shine on You Crazy Diamond (Pts. 1-5) - I knew this as a Mr. Burns expression and believed it to be an original for far too long. Hell, gun to my head, I don’t know if I could’ve spotted the reference before today. What kind of psycho needs this info at gunpoint? And they out Syd Barrett in an asylum. Sad. White boy blues solos all over the front half of this thing. That sounds like an insult, but it really isn’t. Excellent tone and a lot of soul here. I’m not crazy about the main thrust of the song. It’s weird to be this successful band and write about a guy with mental health issues as if he’s dead. Especially when he’s a founding member of the band. That’s kind of icky wnd not explored in that interesting a way to me. I like the industrial outro with the blaring sax. Not a bad track, but I expected more. Welcome to the Machine - Here we go. Eerie, densely layered, and captivating. The lyrics are uhh simple, we’ll say. I think they tell the every day story of dreaming beyond what a simple life offers, only to be pulled into the same vortex we all end up ensnared in. At the sound of the music critics amongst you exhaling sharply and preparing an “errrm actually” through a dry mouth, I will make my exit on this song. Go nuts. Have a Cigar - Ah yes. Cigars. The carcinogenic status symbol of only the most insufferable men. While I do believe in second chances, if you have a photograph of yourself with a cigar and sunglasses at a wedding/graduation; you should be required to perform community service. In the name of taste at the very least. It’s only fair. Fun rock song with the layers that have made this record interesting thus far. Step down from last song, but that’s a high bar. Wish You Were Here - I mean it’s a classic that gets played and played and played and played. It stands up to most of scrutiny even if the melody is ever so slightly obnoxious. I enjoy the lyrics in this one quite a bit even if overplayed. Shine on You Crazy Diamond (Pts. 6-8) - Oh Yeah. This is great. So many interesting musical expressions here. This could’ve been the whole song for me. Ugh I’m feeling contrarian today. I think there is a certain stigma attached to bands that I have heard so much about but not really delved into. So many annoying losers in Pink Floyd t shirts. So much praise from mainstream sources. It’s impossible to come in clear headed. Listening to this record was an experience. The sounds are fully engaging, the instruments are played beautifully and a lot of the ideas are interesting. Minor exploitative vibes from the first and last song as I mentioned, but those songs were sonically gripping. What I’m trying to say (poorly) is that this is a powerhouse of an album. Obviously. It envelopes you in its atmosphere. Is it my favourite atmosphere? No. Is it an incredible feat to have woven such an atmosphere? Definitely. I enjoyed this, which feels sinfully understated considering the ambition, but that’s all I can say. HIGHLIGHTS: Welcome to the Machine, Wish You Were Here, Shine on You Crazy Diamond (Pts. 6-8)

I don’t think we’ll get the triple title treat today. Unless Paulie blows me away here with a new track called “Paul Simon” I think we’re going to have to settle at self-titled. I might as well jump off a bridge. Gee I sure hope there’s no troubled water down there. Paul’s got his coat on, and I’m ready for some chilly folk ballads that almost assuredly mention New York City every second bar. Hey Singer man, I’m friggin’ listenin’ respectfully ovah here in order to attempt to gain an understanding of your craft! Oh!! Mother and Child Reunion - Have I clicked on the wrong thing? Is Paul Simon doing a Patois over a watered down WHITE reggae track? Sandals Jamaica type beat. Dread and Apathy now colour my afternoon. Duncan - The ballad of the kangaroo mascot of children’s sugar bomb snack treat, Dunkaroos. He shouldn’t have had to endure that in the audition. ***MARITIMES MENTIONED*** SWEET JESUS FRIG BOY. What a turnaround. Every day I thank the lord for my fingers too. Gives me two middle ones that I can use to greet every Upper Canadian gentrifier in the maritimes right now. Everything Put Together Falls Apart - I can always hear the heartbreak of those who have had their Lego set taken apart by their mom when they weren’t done. So what company is coming over, do you think this wookie looks finished?? It’s hard being 6. It’s even harder being 29. The unfinished wookie is a dead end job and the mom is increasing cost of living and dependence on AI. Run That Body Down - To steal a phrase from the John Prine Spotify bio, I believe Paul Simon is one of my favourite “phrase turners” in music history. Just has such a fascinating way with words. You can see that while I enjoy it, I don’t take much inspiration from the man. Armistice Day - that’s all he wanted to say. Then? Bongos. Classic 70’s white guy. Oh wait he’s saying more. Paul Simon would’ve been a star in a political science class. The riffs sort of go insane on this track. Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard - Mama Pyjama said that? Man, he puts some spice on that “Julio.” Somebody has been practicing their accent. This is a famous song, if you didn’t know. I’d like to know the crossover demographic of people who read my reviews (accidental clickers) and people who don’t know this song (Cold War holdouts.) that’s got to be Richard population. Peace Like a River - Peace River? I mean it’s Alberta so I’m not as excited as I was about the maritimes, but we’re still Canada adjacent. And of course, that’s what we need in these times. Fervent nationalism. It’s got us this far. Papa Hobo - The award, for song title most evocative of a leader of a homeless encampment who is gritty with street experience, but also sage and a resource for the community he serves, in music history goes to… PAPA HOBO BY PAUL SIMON. YOU DID IT YOU SON OF A BITCH. I got kicked off the bus for getting too excited about this. Soaking in some Detroit perfume of my own. Hobo’s Blues - BACK TO BACK HOBO TRACKS? Hell yeah. Again, I’m a pretty progressive guy, but going from hobo to “unhoused person” was a devastating blow to our beautiful language. Just say HOBO out loud a couple times. Try not to have a good time. Don’t worry, you can’t summon one. That usually takes years of systemic poverty brought on by insatiable corporations inflicting needless cost of living increases due to an unwillingness to plateau the highest level incomes in order to reinvest into liveable communities for all. Anyway, uhhh this is a fun track. Paranoia Blues - Oh no. We did white guy reggae. What’s a little white blues amongst friends. Usually enough to terminate that friendship. Congratulations - I barely understand what this word is anymore. I’ve seen so much drag race, I forget if it’s this or “Condragulations.” The microplastics are doing their job. Great work, regulatory bodies. Besides a horrible, gentrified reggae opener that was custom built for movie montages in the 80s, this was great. I was deeply worried it would continue in that same vein, but we were able to salvage a really fun singer-songwriter record. If it’s not heavy or terrifying, this is often what I want my music to sound like. Not the music I make. That doesn’t exist. Newsflash! Guy with a bunch of negative opinions about a subject is talentless in said subject! Shocking I know. Anyway. This was good. Get me some of that Detroit perfume, I’ve got a consultation sit down with Papa Hobo. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Duncan, Run that Body Down, Armistice Day, Me and Julio Down by The Schoolyard

I’m in love with the Coco. HIT MY PLUG that’s my cholo. The 2015 song by uhh whoever that person may be springs to my mind for the second time this week. Awoken like a long dormant giant, the second most popular song about being in love with drugs of 2015 lives in my mind like a squatter. There couldn’t be a dumber song. It’s the champ. This album cover upsets me, and I doubt this will be good. They got the guy who does caricatures down at the pier some acid, he drew up the cover and now we have to endure what lies beneath. Do I dare peek? I’d Like to Know - Where the Arctic Monkeys were unsure, Supergrass is certain. They’re pretty British aren’t they? Good start. Caught by the Fuzz - Ehh this is fine. Skateboard video game soundtrack music. That would’ve been my favourite genre 20 years ago. Mansize Rooster - Dinosaur. Song about dinosaurs. Presumably. Alright - Noooo. This is the big hit and it’s the worst song so far. Lose it - Excellent track. The bass is really strong on this record, and I like the effects on the vocals for this track. What a boring review. Lenny - NOT LENNY!!! Strange Ones - I am getting so distracted during this. Why? I guess it’s kind of boring. Sitting Up Straight - Some nice melodic moments in this track but overall more of the same. She’s So Loose - Excuse me? We’re Not Supposed To - Alright, British minions passages. Time - Not the Pink Floyd song from what I can tell. Holy hell this song sucks. Sofa of my Lethargy - Everybody like couches. Don’t call it a sofa though. That feels American. It’s a couch. Perhaps a chesterfield. Is that a couch. Who cares. I’m bored, this review is providing nothing. Let’s wrap it up fellas. I really hate this Happy Gilmore outro music. Time to Go - Yes, yes it is. Too long. The energy died about halfway through and I had to revisit tracks after I realized a few had passed without thought. Is that my fault? Probably partially, but it also doesn’t happen all the time. I hated the last few tracks and I don’t care for this album all that much. It was fine. There were strong spots, but overall, a forgettable entry into the musical canon that will escape me the second I leave this tab. Unlike that Coco song. I’ll be thinking about that one when my mind is slipping in my later years. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Caught by the Fuzz, Lose It

Which room? I’ve liked Leonard Cohen, but I’m starting to feel like one of the people chosen for an episode of “Pimp My Ride.” We heard you LOVE Leonard Cohen, so we’ve SLAMMED your 2001 Pontiac Sunfire and loaded the trunk with his actual ashes. Check em out while you’re watching muted Xzibit videos on the mudflats we installed. Now THAT’S hater vision. I’m not sure if I’ve violated any international copyright policy by referencing “Hater Vision,” but please note I only invoke it with the utmost of reverence and humility. Anyway. What are we doing here? Oh yeah. Canadian poet time. Should be a nice morning. Bird on the Wire - Like a drunk in a midnight choir. You got that part right! Story of Isaac - It’s always tough when your dad says he's had a vision and it ends up being one of those weekends where he takes you to a mountain to sacrifice you to a deity that he just invented. Spend the next week at your Mom’s Lenny boy! A Bunch of Lonsesome Heroes - Wait a second, if there a bunch of them, why are they so lonesome? Really makes you think. The loneliest people are so often surrounded by humanity. What is it about throngs of humans that makes us feel so alone? The Partisan - We’re getting French, so I had to check that I didn’t misread “The Parisian.” Yes, French culture exists outside of France, but I’ve been known to be uhhh stupid. I’m liking this record though. Seems So Long Ago, Nancy - Nancy really takes it on the chin in these recordings. Has he sung to Nancy before? Upon further review, no. There is Suzanne and Marianne, but no Nancy at this juncture. Drat. The Old Revolution - They don’t make revolutions like they used to. The Butcher - Almost wrote “The Bitcher” which I believe will be a new game created by the studio that brought you “The Witcher” after one of the devs went through a pretty messy divorce. You Know Who I Am - I do. We’ve listened to you like 6 million times. Lady Midnight - Is this a pageant I wasn’t aware of? Ladies and gentlemen, Lady 4:31 PM! Maybe she is just tired looking. Wearing business clothes that have settled uncomfortably during the long day. This is a good idea. We need more pageants - Leonard Cohen. You heard it here first. Tonight Will Be Fine - What a whistle outro. This was nice. Lenny goes to the hoedown and surprisingly, I’m right there with him. I will always support him with his desire to attend hootenannies. I mean he sits in the corner reciting dark poetry about a woman who left his life and lingered like a scent. He gazes out the barn windows at the alabaster moon holding court in the hall of cosmic discourse while the simpletons dance amongst the horse bedding. I say “Lenny, can we go?” He laughs “Has it come to you or have you found the remnants in this room of a time when we weren’t strangers?” “What?” I’m straining to hear over the strains of “Cotton Eyed Joe.” “Pay it no mind” sighs the exasperated poet. “I’ve heard enough to fill at least one album with some minor country influence.” “And I wish very much to end this horrible review closing anecdote.” Always a charmer that Lenny. On to the next. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Story of Isaac, A Bunch of Lonesome Heroes, The Old Revolution

Oh joy and bliss, it’s time to listen to an album on YouTube. Look, I guess this is a good time to talk about Spotify. Sure, they don’t pay the artists nor their employees and hey, what’s a little military-industrial funding coming from my family subscription? I hate this modern world. Truly. Corporations gut every possible crevice where money may be lingering and then when the populace looks to distractions (bread & circuses), they capitalize further on that, making each day a waking nightmare with a drastic price tag. The way I see it, I can either become a nomadic protester, moving from company to company, switching loyalties upon the discovery of the next human rights abomination, or I can pick and choose my battles, trying to minimize the evil I expose myself to on a daily basis. I’d love to buy more music, but I can’t afford anything else, so here we are. Rock, meet hard place. That’s where the big corps come in! I’m about to have to listen to a crypto ad before every song because Bonnie Prince Billy isn’t on Spotify. We all know it’s time for guillotines, but leftist in-fighting has left us arguing on fascist platforms over “which of the evil companies is the least evil.” Whatever. Uh oh yeah, uh time for music. No track reviews today. Too much tab switching. I might trigger another ad. You come here for bad music reviews, reviews of bad music, and now, lazy political takes. Well those have always been sort of it I guess. This album is hard to judge. I found it to be really sweet in places. It obviously has a sense of humour to match its sense of melody. It is overwhelmingly dark, which I enjoyed for the most part. I would revisit this. Not as “bonnie” as I hoped it might be, but in the doldrums of depression, there is some comfort. That soundtrack is held within this album’s track listing. 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: A Minor Place, Death to Everyone, Black

Elvis? I thought he was dead! Oh no, it’s the other one. I have heard this dude’s name for my entire life, and never once heard an Elvis Costello song. I mean one may have slipped through the cracks, but if you gave me a billion dollars, firstly I’d say “how did you get this and why are you offering it to me?” And then I would be unable to conjure one descriptor of this man’s musical output. Not a one. It’s time to break that streak. Hey, if you still want to offer me the billion after this, make it a cool 900 million as billionaires are unethical. No Action - Look at this cover and tell me you’re surprised by the words “No Action” being associated with this fella. This singing is comically obnoxious. This is how I would sing if I was trying to make fun of this song. This Year’s Girl - What a player. From no action, to a new girl every year. Elvis, you sly dog. You old scallywag. You rapacious rapscallion. The Beat - Alright. I relent. This is pretty infectious. I’ve acquired the taste. Goes hard, silly and fun. Pump It Up - LESS fun. Too repetitive here fellas. I don’t know which one of “The Attractions” suggested repeating that refrain so many times, but it can’t be my sweet Elvis. Little Triggers - On the tiniest little guns. They’re too small to do any damage, so when I try to end it all during this song I just get a little raised welt on my temple. Blast. You Belong to Me - Hoping this about an object and not a person. Either way, the song sucks. Hand in Hand - This reminds me of the intro to White Hen Decapitator by Macabre. What a song. Anyway. Now I’m just mad I’m not listening to Sinister Slaughter. Whatever. Song is fine here. And that’s a big uogradr from the last few. (I Don’t Want To Go To) Chelsea - Well then don’t go. Man. I should be a psychologist. Or some sort of crisis mediator. Sometimes I’d just start yelling. Separates the men from the boys. By that I mean I would break up families with my newfound power. Lip Service - This was a nice little power pop sort of thing. Liked it more than some of the other tracks. Living in Paradise - East Chezzetcook? Lipstick Vogue - As opposed to a regular vogue sesh. I routinely break out into some pretty fucking rad hand dancing. I wouldn’t call it voguing but it certainly has the same heart. Night Rally - Man I’m just finally coming around to making a Randy Newman reference. Is this Randy Newman? I never said it would be good. Radio, Radio - Decent closer. To paraphrase The Go-Go’s “At least we’ve got “The Beat.” Nah I mean this was a very interesting record. It sounds light years ahead of 1978 and with the borderline comical vocals, there is a punk-ish tinge to this that held my interest. This isn’t a classic for me by any means but Elvis Costello isn’t as bad as I expected when I saw the artistic camera model shot on the front cover here. Another week in the books. Only like 2 and a half years and 12 Nick Cave albums to go. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: The Beat

I gasped. Literally lost breath. It’s Monday morning, but I can probably score some acid, right? I mean, I work from home, so when I believe my Microsoft Teams to be a sage oracle in the shape of a gummy bear, nobody will be able to tell. Drugs are bad, kids, and you certainly don’t need them to enjoy this record. Here we go. 2112 - YEAH! WOOOOOOO. ALRIGHT!! I still remember the first time I heard this song. Blew my 12 year old mind, and it now dances across my ravaged cerebellum (or wherever music is processed) like a beautiful memory with vibrant currency. Yes, it’s theatrical and on the nose with the “the dystopian rulers hate music, but we’re going to rise up and have FUN again!!!” The vocals on the sections where the priests are talking are god damn amazing and the guitar solos are insane. Ugh. This is one of the greatest songs ever. A Passage to Bangkok - There is more to this album? RACIALLY MOTIVATED GUITAR RIFF SPOTTED. The non-racially insensitive guitar riff is disgusting and this song is so heavy because of it. 2 for 2. The Twilight Zone - More scintillating vocals, but I can’t help but imagine a female singer in a smoky club singing this for some reason. Oh god I didn’t ask for the whispers. Ah man. More solid, dark sounding riffing, with impassioned performances. This thing doesn’t slow down. Lessons - The first track where I wasn’t enthralled the entire time, but there is still enough here to say it’s an enjoyable song. The vocals remain so good and I can’t help barely believe that there are only 3 of them. Tears - A real ballad has entered the track listing and I wish it wasn’t here. We were in a perfect album. Something for Nothing - These dang kids always wanting something for nothing. Nobody wants to do slave labour anymore. Good song. Well, it happened. 2112 has now came and went, and I am deeply satisfied. I have to now dread tomorrow, but that’s a problem for future me to handle. If I’ve made it through several U2 and Bruce Springsteen albums, I think I can handle a random Tuesday in September’s offering. This record is pure Canadiana that has enough spellbinding musicianship and creativity to transcend our rocky borders. This is so incredibly camp, yet so cool and powerful. Despite minor moments of filler, this one has gone down in history as a prog rock staple. This is the voice of the Canadian nerds, we have assumed control, we have assumed control. 4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: 2112, A Passage To Bangkok, Something for Nothing

The lost review. Middling wannabe biker dad rock. Boogaloo to the discount bin. 2

Is this on the IRS record label? Times were tough all around for the Go-Go’s. Which one is beauty and which one is the beat? Wasn’t that also a title for some horrible 2010s pop single? Nicki Minaj or something. Who cares. Look. It’s early, I’m too fat to move and that has produced a concoction of misery that can only be mended by 80’s girly pop. I will apply my face mask thusly. Our Lips Are Sealed - The hit right out of the gate. It’s fine enough. Sweet melody. I’m less miserable, so that’s a start. How Much More - How much more music can we endure? Over 750 albums? Oh. This one started off as a jaunty little heartbroken pop tune and devolved into repetitive tripe. Sad. Tonite - The second coolest and raddest way to spell the boring “tonight.” 2Nite is of course the coolest way. Come on. This is giving me like soft skate punk energy. You can hear Rise Against in this. If that bothers you, well, please consider that I don’t know anything, BUT, I’m also right all the time. Lust to Love - She’s detailing how she used to capture and kill people. It’s a gritty diary of a female serial killer in desperate attempt to be caught. All she wants is to stop, but the monstrous society that created her just puts it on the radio for their enjoyment. The cycle continues. This Town - Unless it’s about Pugwash, can we drop this whole “this ol’ town” type of song? We Got the Beat - They’ve indeed, got the beat. Which beat you might ask? The mediocre radio song beat. Fading Fast - This is more of the same. I don’t care about it, but it’s more of the same. Automatic - This song actually has a cool kind of energy to it. The slowed down vibe works in this situation. A little meh, but what hasn’t been? You Can’t Walk in Your Sleep (If You Can’t Sleep) - You can’t read between the lines, if you can’t read. We’re inching ever closer to metalcore song titles from the late 2000s. It nears with each passing album. Skidmarks on my Heart - Gross. Unless we’re talking about the tire thing? We are. Don’t know why my mind went to shit. Well. The consequences of microplastics. This is a dumb song loaded to the gills with racing puns. Can’t Stop the World - Try me. I can stop this album. Well, I can’t, because of the completionism gene that controls me, but at least it’s over. This was fine. Middle of the road pop that had a punk edge. I’m sure it was very influential and an important crossover for the time, but in 2025, I’ve heard better pop, and I’ve heard far far better punk. Obviously. This would fit on a Disney skateboarding game soundtrack, which isn’t the worst thing I’ve said or will say about a record. Grating at times, kind of fun at others, this right here is your true C album. Use it as a benchmark. I hope I don’t get audited by the IRS. Considering I’m Canadian, I’m not even sure how that would work. I probably should do my part for the North American dream and pay more taxes in service of furnishing a dystopian billionaires paradise. God bless the American way. Now Go-Go Away. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Our Lips are Sealed, Automatic

Skrillex font and naked people. something tells me, art will not be of paramount importance here. I’m expecting bombastic and repetitive dance music, but I’m ready to be shocked. Actually if you’re ready to be shocked, then it isn’t shocking. We’re getting to the bottom of some doublespeak riddles here today. Rendez-Vu - Horrible French appeals to me as a descendent of Acadian blood, but as a man with an IQ above 87, this kind of music does not. It’s not the worst dance song I’ve ever heard, aside from the autotuned male vocal jazz, but I’m not infuriated yet. Yo Yo - Will we be seeing any sweet yo-yo tricks as a visual accompaniment to this record? I can only hope. I cringed up into my own body with that opening. Then when the Korn vocals hit? Kill me.Or do I like this as a “so bad it’s good” type of record? Time will tell. Jump ‘N Shout - I remain mired in pirgatorial anguish. On one hand, this is an incredibly catchy, almost heavy, dance rhythm. On the other hand, it reminds me of people who are in their late 30’s and still go to nightclubs. What am I to do with such diametrically opposed feelings? If I had ever been to a nightclub, I would tell you that this song rips pretty good. Considering I am a white suburbanite at my desk job, I can only imagine the person who would sit and listen to this recreationally. U Can’t Stop Me - U Can’t See me, my time is now. When will John Cena’s debut record appear on this list? I genuinely think I might need it as a palate cleanser after this. While this woman may have 16 seconds, I have what appears to be like 45 more minutes of this to wade through. Jaxxalude - This is a great time to grab a drink of water, and maybe your fentanyl tester. Are you sure that you knew that dealer? Red Alert - The bass is fun, if not incredibly blown out. It sounds like if guitar hero was made for the original GameBoy. We’re again in obnoxious dance music land, but at least the grooves drive pretty hard. Jazzalude - That was it??? I was promised jazz. Always Be There - hey why is this album hanging out at the big cliff? Oh no it’s falling! Man, is it ever hurdling. Sneakalude - I want to go home. Not even DJ Skunk Burner can save us. Same Old Show - Don’t do that noise. Fax machines and forced moaning do not a good song make. Add in a European ambulance and we have finally achieved the ultimate hodgepodge of garbage that could only be enjoyable on near overdose levels of MDMA. Bingo Bango - I needed a Latin Mario Kart soundtrack in my life. See, if you believed that, you need to realize that there is a lot of misinformation on the internet. I hate this song. Gemilude - Buddy has been jacking it in the basement since birth? Thanks for that. Stop 4 Love - I rev up the engine and accelerate through the love. I stop for nobody UNLESS there are some nice ducks in the road. This is like that bittersweet symphony song without vocals. Horrific. Don’t Give Up - A sobering reminder to finish what I have started with this list expedition. There were some hard rhythms in this, it can’t be denied. It then devolved into the worst parts of this kind of music ad nauseum. I feel like a broken record with the electronic and dance genres. I am not the target audience for this. I believe the target audience is people who peaked young when they were peaking on experimental drugs in a sweaty barn. It’s not my fault that life stopped for you after that. In fact, I’m incredibly sad for you. At least you still have middle aged bigotry and records like “Remedy” to remind you of when you last felt something, and there was a faint whiff of hope in the air. For those of us with a current life and an at least somewhat hopeful future ahead, this record probably doesn’t move the needle. Unless you’re moving the needle off of this thing. Then it moves pretty quick. 0.5-1 HIGHLIGHTS: Nope.

Listen up B Jork. Ain’t no way no how you’re going to remove my butt, and another thing, Icelandic food is highly overr… there is just one T. I see now, that this is Björk’s debut album, so she wanted to call it “Debut.” I am so used to these records attempting to steal from me, whether time or brain power, that I just assumed that my ass was next. Thankfully, it’s intact and I can sit on it and enjoy what will surely be an adventure through wonderland. Human Behaviour - Attempting to emulate human behaviour. This sounds like the music that plays while the narrator on Weakest Link says “Jimmy was statistically the strongest link as most of his questions were about types of chips while Regis was today’s weakest link, as he would stall for time by asking if they could turn down the studio lights.” You know that music right? Crying - Popular human behaviour, crying, makes an appearance. I like this. Kind of zany. Let’s cut through the SHIT. It’s very zany. Outlandish even. That’s what I’m all about. Cutting to the fucking chase. I don’t pull ANY punches. AAAAHHH. WOOO. Bjork gets me fired the frig up. Venus as a Boy - Bjork sits in a room covered in crumpled up paper. “What if uhh Santa was a girl?” “Ugh no, that’s stupid.” Anyway. We got here. As much as I love gender bending, this song sucks. There’s More to Life Than This - Electro music with odd “live” interludes. This is definitely veering off. Like Someone in Love - Like that, but not really that at all. Are you even listening? Big Time Sensuality - This sounds like how someone would describe a night on the town in if they had just arrived from Iceland and they maybe didn’t have English as their first language. Which is pretty fantastic for a song title. One Day - Just one? This is very very very repetitive. Aeroplane - Alright we’re getting cooler. Back into some odd jazz territory. Of course it’s missing with whatever the hell this album’s genre may be. Come to Me - No. I need an adult. Violently Happy - I don’t know how happy I am with this late stage dance song. The Anchor Song - She’s weird eh? I like it. Good stuff. Impact. That is my cheesy and overblown beginning to the “all-important” final “paragraph.” Björk is unabashedly herself and that is infectious. This doesn’t speak to me on the same deep level that I believe it does for so many, but her individuality does. I can’t hate this, but I can’t love the music aspect of it either. I probably won’t return here, but this eclipses most of the garbage I hear on a daily basis. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Crying, Aeroplane, The Anchor Song

I couldn’t decide whether to just write indecipherable grunts for this review or to actually articulate my thoughts as to why this is the worst, most poisonous band to ever (dis) grace the mainstream rock world. I think it’s a lazy internet meme to be like “uhhh I can’t understand him lolz xD.” So I would like to express - at every given opportunity - the hatred that pours from me when forced to listen to this garbage. To give you an idea of how much I think this group sucks, I was unable to play them on Spotify. Thinking I’d have to go YouTube and endure Eddie Vedder’s disingenuous caterwauling mixed in with ads for DoorDash, I realized that I have them blocked on Spotify. If there was ever a time to congratulate my former self, it is now. A large bravo to my keen sense of taste from years ago. Anyway. A temporary unblocking is in order. Just long enough to endure this pile of waste. Once - The amount of times I’ll listen to this record. You’re not Black Sabbath and unfortunately this isn’t planet caravan. This is planet earth, where we praise and exalt hollow, empty tripe in order to avoid I don’t even know man. Enjoyable art? “Ohhhhh wanna backseat lover and a” I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS. If you read this review, you may end up watching a man die in real time. Fuck You, Eddie Vedder I. Even Flow - I accidentally added “Buddy Holly” by Weezer to my Queue. Wondered why a good song started playing. That would be a smart plan for the next Pearl Jam album. Play songs from different, better artists. This song sucks. It’s Lynyrd Skynyrd for girls. Let me rephrase that. It’s Lynyrd Skynyrd for guys who base their whole personality around appealing to girls, instead of just, you know, being yourself and not being a weird predator. Fuck you, Eddie Vedder II. Alive - See lyrics. Read “unfortunately.” The worst vocalist in music history is in his most pure form here. Fuck You, Eddie Vedder III Why Go - Why do anything? Why get up? Why love? Why live? Ah yes “she was diagnosed, by some stupid fuck.” What a beautiful lyric from a mature poetic musician worthy of extensive praise. Black - She’s an empty canvas. Why is every song about a nameless girl that Eddie Vedder is presumably assaulting or manipulating into some sort of relationship. Honestly? The women who would be wooed by this probably deserve Eddie. For their most popular song, this is one of the worst songs I’ve ever heard. A melody that makes me feel like I’m being interrogated. I am under duress. If there was a white flag I would wave it. Jeremy - JEREMY SPOKE IN IGHHHURRRRGHHH. What a beautiful tale about the child you bullied. Oceans - I laughed at this one. That’s pretty funny. He really thinks he’s slaying it. Oh man. That was good. Porch - I’d hit you. I’ve certainly struck the power button of my radio once or twice during non-consensual Pearl Jam time. Garden - I knew this album would be bad, but I didn’t expect to also be this bored. Angry and bored is a losing combination, albeit at least normal for Monday. Deep - More bad songs that are actually too inconsequential to even speak about. Release - It is almost time for freedom. I will not take my freedom for granted. I will inhale a little deeper. Hold my loved ones a little tighter. While I’m fairly certain there is no deity who patrols our isolated little planet, I will project thanks from my very being for never having to listen to this again. Except on the radio, in trains, in malls, on TV, at the dentist, in other people’s cars, in car commercials. Fuck. I can’t stand this. I’ve run out of fervour. I am weak with despondency. From the album cover with paid actors pretending they’re enjoying a Pearl Jam show to literally the worst vocals in the history of rock music, this is a trainwreck with about 15 million monthly casualties. Fortunately, the Pearl Jam fan base can’t read, or otherwise they might get extremely upset at this. I kid those folks. I heard a few of them are getting promoted to lead gas pumper. Some of them even have weekend custody of their kids! It’s a strong group, and 15 million geniuses of that calibre can’t be wrong. Listen, I’m a pro wrestling fan who frequently misuses words, so I am no stranger to idiocy but come on guys. You’re somewhat better than this. You see, I must be mad because I’m lashing out at innocent simpletons due to the pain I just battled through. They don’t deserve that. You may enjoy your terrible rock band in peace. Just please, please, pretty please stop including this band in the same breath as Nirvana. That’s like saying Celine Dion and Gorguts are the same genre because they’re both from Quebec. Lunacy. Oh and Fuck Eddie Vedder times infinity. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Ground Zero for every stinky, instagram singer with yet to be uncovered allegations.

Fred Neil Fred Neil. Two first names repeated once. I suppose that makes 4 first names for one album. That’s pretty impressive. Ol Freddy boy scores big points already with that benchmark statistic. This looks to be psychedelic. I didn’t realize how fine a dozen quirked up white fellas have always been. Truly, we have become a monolithic people. Let’s take some questionable acid in a questionable field while listening to some questionable music with questionable people. Any questions? The Dolphins - Hey the friggin’ dolphins suck this year. I’ve always been skeptical of teams in “paradise” locations. Do real people even live in Miami? I feel like a city has to be verbally miserable to experience sporting glory. If it’s too jubilant, then what reprieve does the sport even provide? I’ve Got a Secret (Didn’t We Shake Sugaree) - I hate this song title. It’s not even good absurdist content. The vocals remain obnoxious. If Elvis was really drunk, you’d have Fred Neil. The song itself is interesting enough, but doesn’t really go anywhere. That’s The Bag I’m In - This one is pretty good. I wanted to make fun of the Prison Tycoon menu music instrumental and the white eguy blues, but it seems to be self-aware and has a great energy to it. Ba-Di-Da - After the last track, this album was at an impasse. Would it continue in the quirky, likeable direction, or would it plummet to its own death on the rocks of mediocrity? As I sit here peeling brain matter off of granite, I have my answer. Faretheewell (Fred’s Tune) - Ughhhhhh. This is the one you slap your name on? Everybody’s Talkin’- Talkin’ bout people. We dance just a little too close. Everything Happens - Everbody is talking and everything is happening. Why does it feel like I’m so bored then? Sweet Cocaine - This explains a lot. Green Rocky Road - VERY unpopular flavour at the ice cream shop. It’s just rocky road with raw spinach haphazardly added. It’s part of a new health edict from the ice cream governing body and it’s really ruined the rep of Rocky Road. Cynicrustpetefredjohn Raga - There it is. Pretending to be Indian. Classic 60’s white guy move. I wish I could be there the first time that synapses fired to form the thought “what if we combined sitar with harmonica?” I would’ve stopped it in its tracks. I’d use a Time Machine for that. This is one of the best songs though, so maybe I’d use the Time Machine to stop something else bad. Remember planking? Let’s nip that in the bud. I’m in a bag myself here and it is kind of cutting off oxygen to my brain, so I’ll keep this brief. Speaking of brief, this album was thankfully brief which at this point pretty much adds a star to the review. I didn’t really like this record. It was mostly obnoxious and mostly boring. There were a couple of bright spots, but besides that, I can’t in good conscience review this positively. And I won’t. Get outta here. I got nothing else. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: The Bag I’m In, Cynicrustpetefredjohn Raga

VA VA VESPERTINE ICELAND’s WEIRDEST SOMETHING QUEEN. That’s my interpolation of “Rasputin” by “Boney M.” Probably not my favourite Boney M track. I’m really into the deep cuts. When I’m not frantically writing bulletin updates in the Boney M fan club online forum (BonerPatrol420 - PM me), I am listening to albums recommended to me by this website. A widget on my phone that has inspired Pavlovian wincing upon each opening. Now I see the second Bjork album in two days, and I’m intrigued. We’ve crested Pearl Jam mountain and survived at least 4 David Bowie records. I feel unstoppable. Give me a soundtrack to that feeling ya artistic weirdo. Hidden Place - I live in a hidden place. It’s a cave loaded to the gills with uncooked meats and Xbox games. For those who say, “why would you bring perishable foods and how are you getting electricity?” When you ask those questions, I know that, like Bjork, I am AT LEAST 7 steps ahead of you. Pretty cool soundscapes here. Cocoon - Jesus. It’s so god damn LUSH. The sounds are making me feel like I don’t have bones. In a good way. Not in a pile of oozing flesh way. I don’t have to explain myself to the likes of you. Good day sir/madam/individual It’s Not Up to You - Who is it up to? Is there an all powerful deity, or are we in charge of our own path? Is the overwhelming knowledge that you alone are responsible for your direction through the concept known as life a completely overwhelming weight that renders you inert? The abdication of responsibility to a manufactured deity can ease that discomfort. You know what else helps? Copious amounts of food. Undo - We’re back in the insane Scandinavian gentle blender. It whirls you around slowly amongst lilacs and choral vocal passage until you firmly believe that you have died and while it’s not heaven you’ve ended up in, it’s some amalgamation of the afterlife descriptions you’ve heard from various theologians. I know you’re out here comparing afterlife notes of notable theologians. You intellectual rascal. Pagan Poetry - This sounds like a horrific nursery rhyme. That is a good thing in my books The passion is palpable, and this is somehow comforting and unsettling at the same time. Very impressive. Frosti - Hello Wendy’s, I would like one frosti. What you guys aren’t doing the Bigtime Bjork Blowout™️this year? What? I dreamed that??? I’ve been making an asshole out of myself at Wendy’s locations across the provinces. Man, I really shouldn’t have stood on the counter at the South Fredericton location and demanded the Bjorker with extra Sun sauce. At least I have some time to prepare for my court date. All just protests meet resistance. Aurora - You ever seen the northern lights? Before everything went nuts last year and you could see them in fucking Oklahoma or whatever, they were a special treat that I felt filled me with as close to a spiritual feeling as I can muster. I don’t believe in spirits, but my word are they powerful. This song has a lot of that vibe. An Echo a Stain - I love the little key stabs here. So dreamlike. If you don’t dream exclusively in terror like your dear author. Sun in My Mouth - Bjork, I thought I told you to stop eating celestial bodies. LOOK OUT RIGEL, BJORK IS HUNGRY. Heirloom - I don’t know how I feel about the recurring dream track. Wait your mother is turn of the century Edmonton Oilers forward Anson Carter? Yeah I know. That was a stretch. I’m running out of my 2025 attention span here. If you’re not careful, I might self-diagnose ADHD, and buy a vape with a screen. Harm of Will - More dreamy B-Jork tunes. Couldn’t hold a candle to the B-Boy stylings of B squared (late career Bull Buchanan). Unison - I too thrive “hermit style” with a beard and a pipe. Greatest lyrical moment so far. This is music by and for butterflies. There is a distinct insect vibe given off by Bjork and this album would go off HARD at the little sugar water dropper. Me and my butterfly bros and our Kate bloomer caterpillar friend would be consuming our daily calorie and just tweaking out bug style to the musical stylings of human adjacent Björk. This record is immense. Beautiful soundscapes, endless creativity and a truly unique experience. Am I going to listen to this regularly? No. But it was enlightening and has increased my appreciation for this enigmatic figure exponentially. It’s the creativity and dedication to experimentation that made this such an excellent experience. Not exactly my cup of tea, but when in Rome, you drink the uhh weird Icelandic tea. Or however that phrase goes. Great wjork, Bjork. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Cocoon, Pagan Poetry, An Echo a Stain, Unison

Cancelled. You heard it here first, folks. The band mentioned above is cancelled and instead, we will be listening to harmless death metal whe… what’s that? He said WHAT? Ugh. Well, that’s alright, today we will be listening to some benign classical music from the golden a… She was how old??? Surely jazz? Man that’s a lot of heroin. Oh my god uhhh nature sounds? Holy shit how many rabbits did that cougar kill? You know what. Let’s listen to Turbonegro. They can’t be any worse than that cougar. The Age of Pamparius - Oh no. The whoa whoa whoas have started earlier than I expected. Hey uhh guys? This sucks. Bad Scandinavian humour set to rock that is destined to be one of the less memorable tracks on a low budget skateboard video game. One of the games where the singer of this band is a playable character. The game comes with copies of the CD. Selfdestructo Bust - I like the guitar tone. Pretty heavy. I mean this is still 90’s skate rock a few years ahead of schedule but I actually like this one. Less dumb humour. Get it On - We’re staying with the good aspects for now. The upcoming song titles tell me we’re vacating the taste section very soon. Rock Against Ass - Funny if you find YouTuber rap battles funny. Don’t say Motherfucker, Motherfucker - Read above review. Rendezvous With Anus - The trifecta Zillion Dollar Sadist - This is a fine song. I guess? More dumb jokes with ok music. Woohoo. Prince of the Rodeo - More pseudo-punk. It’s so meh to me. A little cringeworthy as well. Back to Dungaree High - Are you Ready (For Some Darkness) - Gross. First riff is good, everything else sucks. Especially that honky tonk chorus. Monkey on Your Back - Repetitive, but some more energy in the right direction. Humiliation Street - The long and lonely road that I traverse every day that I open this webpage and begin my lazy, boneheaded musings. Hey, at least I didn’t write and record “Rendezvous with Anus.” Good Head - My eyes are rolling. Not in like a weird orgasmic way either. Fuck these lyrics. They’re so lame. Apparently it’s a cover, but it shows their taste level. With a language barrier, I’ve found that the last thing to translate is humour. Especially since so much of it is language focused. The jokes on this album are not for me. I found it to be immature without any semblance of tongue in cheek. The music was just ok. Decent punk rock in places, but mostly boring tripe. Now, considering the age of this record, they deserve some trailblazer status, but when that trail leads to Dropkick Murphys or Rise Against, maybe we should left that trail a secret. A boring review for a boring album. Thrilled to be able to have matched wits with the rodeo clown record. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Selfdestructo Bust

Big RIP to Water, the fourth element that just evaporated into fuckin steam upon getting too close to Fire. There was talk of a manslaughter charge but it was dropped due to the judge’s affinity for that September song. “Ah what they hey. These guys are funky as hell. Let’s call it even. Case dismissed.” One of the biggest miscarriages of justice in American history. Shining Star - This is pretty damn funky. Murder coverup aside. This is a pretty decent track. That’s the Way of the World - Now we’re into the extended boredom I expected upon seeing this pop up in my embattled browser. Happy Feelin’ - Hey everybody! Let’s love everybody and golly gee whiz it sure would be nice if we could all live in peace and harmony! *glockenspiel solo*. All About Love (First Impression) - Don’t laugh like that. Oh my sweet lord this sucks. When he asked me to stop whatever I’m doing (listening to this album), I wished I could’ve. Yearnin’ Learnin’ - True G’s don’t need to use g’s when they type. I’ve been an idiot all these years spellin’ correctly. Fuck sakes. Thankfully the phone has increased my typo percenta’e tenfold. I’m not sure we should’ve let this fella sing. Reasons - Hoo boy, these guys make romantic love sound like a death sentence. Besides that flute solo. Africano - Adding O’s to words will never not be funny. Italian using our language, one vowel at a time. Saxophone right out of a late show outro. Thank you for tuning in everybody, we have a great show for you next week, Taco Bell will be making a public apology for the Gordita Surprise mishap, and Chuckles Muldoon will be here doing a beanbag routine that will blow your socks off. Bring a change of wigs! See you next week. See the Light - Some of the funniest falsetto going. Well. We’ve made it through another one. Listen, these guys are mostly likeable and seem to be pretty excited about the music they’re making here. That can be charming if it’s not completely self-indulgent. The peace and love stuff is just noise at this point but the music had some variety here and there. Too many bad moments to call this a good record but enough intrigue to maybe commit to memory that these guys are NOT Kool & The Gang. One step at a time. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Shining Star, Africano

Pensive. Mournful. The facial expression of Aretha Franklin as she is surely examining her role in Wrestlemania III. Will the unstoppable force of Hulkamania topple Bobby Heenan’s Giant from the French Alps? Her wrestling based clairvoyance seems like a waste of an incredible power. Probably why she’s so mournful. Will her singing and songwriting be as impressive as her minor psychic ability? The only thing between me and that answer is a push if the play button. Respect - Damn. She can sing. Understatement of the century but this thing rips so far. Everybody obviously knows this song, but in the context of an album? Absolute monster of an opener. Drown in My Own Tears - The emotion is fuckin’ SICK here. I ended up turning it up in my headphones. A rare treat in an infinite churn of mediocrity. I Never Loved a Man (The Way I Love You) - Holy HELL. The blues and the vocals are hitting incredibly hard this fine morn. I feel like I’ve only ever heard American Idol style covers of this song before. The original is incredible. Soul Serenade - A minor lull. Vocal performance remains electric, but the general structure of the song was a little more boring. Can’t win em all. Don’t Let Me Lose This Dream - This song was dragging a little bit until that bass breakdown in the middle. I care less about this one as it seems to be elevator music featuring an uber talented vocalist, but I’m not hating it still. Baby, Baby, Baby - Why stop at 3? Why not 4? Aretha was handcuffed by the label. Fuck corporate music. I’m going to re-release this record with the correct amount of baby’s. Sixty five. Bewildered mentioned. Dr. Feelgood (Love is a Serious Business) - This is the same guy that Motley Crue wrote about, right? I’m disappointed in the good doctor for running around on Aretha with Vince Neil or whomever. God forbid it was the bassist or something. I shudder to think. Stay strong Aretha. Good Times - I mean what can I say? This stuff is good. Do Right Woman, Do Right Man - Hey pal, you better uhh do right. Save Me - Oh yeah. We’re groovin now. A Change is Gonna Come - A cover. And holy Jesus what a cover. This stripped back backing track with these lyrics and this vocalist? Stunning. Listen, good albums get bad reviews. I don’t make the rules. The microplastics flow where they will. The law of the diminishing brain power is absolute. Whatever neurons remain flickering in my once crowded grey matter loved this record. Primarily, the vocals on this thing. Unbelievable performance from the titular singer here. Can’t say much more than that. Passion, talent, and an ability to combine the two. What more could you ask for? 3.5-4 HIGHLIGHTS: Respect, Drown in My Own Tears, I Never Loved a Man (The Way I Love You), A Change is Gonna Come

1814. I write you from the western front. Or is the eastern front? Southern back? It has been six days since the raid on Rhythm Nation. What started as an innocent flash mob dance battle devolved into something slightly worse; a bloody conflict that has left my comrades strewn across the once pristine hills of our Rhythmic Nation. I fear I don’t have much time left, so I will close in saying please don’t listen to Janet’s description of the horrors that transpired here. The story shall die with this letter and the once proud Groovers of rhythm nation. Where there was once popping and locking with great frequency, our crunking is now muffled by the blood soaked soil beneath our moon boots. Remember us as a nation of heroes. Tearfully, your noble reviewer, Cornelius P. Smokestack IV. Rhythm Nation - uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh does the rhythm nation have mandatory conscription? If so, are there any pacifist neighbouring nations? State of the World - Tell it like it is, Janet. Things are scary out there and we need a takedown on it, set to a sweet synth funk groove. This is dumb pandering but that funk is undeniable. The Knowledge - I am ignoring the interludes. What do you want from me? A Janet Jackson themed civil war letter AND a review of tv channel flipping? PREJUDICE - NO. Bad music? YUP. Miss You Much - I don’t know if I got that. She misses something? Perhaps it’s the crack songwriting staff, because this shit ain’t working. Grooves remain funky, songs remain terrible. Love Will Never Do (Without You) - They said it wouldn’t last? This album has lasted 68 minutes and we’re like 4 songs in. Livin’ in a World (They Didn’t Make) - The second pandering “way of the world” track. Snoozer. Alright - I wish this album was alright, but instead I’m here listening to extended mediocre electro-funk cuts. Escapade - Hey google, what rhymes with escapade? Thanks. I’ve got the song now. Black Cat - AND I HATE MYSELF FOR LOVIN’ YOU. Joan Propeller plane on the beat Lonely - ughhhhh Come Back to Me - Come Back to Me? Ugh this is always death. Someday is Tonight - Is this sexy or creepy? I’m not sure of the vibe. Considering the family name, you never really know where those wires get crossed. Too much groaning in this one. NEXT! Hoo boy. I was but an innocent youngster when this thing started. Now? I die bleeding in the battle of 1814. Rhythm Nation versus the onrushing anti-bad taste society. I now realize I die in vain as any group that opposes this kind of music must truly be the protagonist. Wrong side of history. For the remaining few who limp away from this ghastly affair, we know that maybe forming a pop group with all of your children leads to some emotional damage somewhere. For both the artist and future listeners. May the echoes of the synths be a solemn reminder. Never again. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: The silencing of the gunfire (synth stabs)

Fuck 2009. Why does it occur to me as time of a great cultural famine. Sure, RuPaul began racing his way to the hearts and minds of mainstream TV audiences but besides that, what have we got? Even sports sucked. Vancouver and Chicago topping the NHL’s west. The boringest version of the Miami Heat and other dynasty building snoozers. My teen years are a blur and maybe the time is to blame. Will Fever Ray be an aberration or a symptom indicative of the illness known as early onset 2010’s. Load me up with the vaccine. I’m going in. If I Had a Heart - Honestly? Pretty cool. Way to go. Chilling and interesting for an intro track. When I Grow Up - Uh oh. Is that a fake patois? I had to look it up and I think it may just be a real Swedish person. Oh well. Dry and Dusty - I have fallen asleep. It is a fitful slumber as I am repeatedly wakened by the whispering man saying that we’re cups of energy or whatever. Hey, you gotta learn the rhetoric if you want to score almond moms at the outdoor yoga meetup group. Seven - Look at this shit they have me in. I don’t remember any more of that promo, it it feels like it fits here. Good work, Dustin. Moving on. Triangle Walks - Incredibly dull. Concrete Walls - A cooler song. Returning to some of that atmosphere I was enjoying early on. Now’s the Only Time I Know - Whoa. Really getting present for the yoga moms. I’m Not Done - I was going to make my usual dumb comment like “yeah Errm I sure wish you were done!1!” But this shit is pretty good. Nice song. Keep the Streets Empty For Me - One impossible task deserves another. Please write a wholly enjoyable electronic music record. Coconut - I’m cocoNUTS for coconuts. I have been ADMITTED to an INSANE asylum AGAINST my will due to my BEHAVIOUR around COCONUTS. Stranger Than Kindness - More beige canvas stretched out to infinity. So unbelievably bored at this point. Big sentence can’t make. Here Before - This may have finally killed the track review format. I don’t want to go track by track for most records, but when something is an endless soundscape like this, what can I really say? This record is boring but mostly inoffensive and went quicker than I thought given the fact that it cajoled the preceding description out of me. I’ve heard far worse albums and I’ve heard far better. Unfortunately for this particular weirdo, there are far more releases in the latter column. Not that they care, but it’s fun to imagine artists vying for the approval of one Canadian slob/snob who doesn’t really like anything. Fever Ray? You tried. Now let’s move on to the next disaster piece. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: If I Had a Heart, I’m Not Done

I too am a bird, but not in a way where I am fluttering around all carefree like. I’m a bird like a big ol ostrich. Runnin’ around. Gettin’ dust all over my feathers. Accosting people on safaris. That is the good life. Or! I am the noble puffin. Just chilling on the rocks of Newfoundland being all cool. See, this album is off to a good start because I am bird now. Hope There’s Someone - The question I will surely be asking myself throughout this, are these vocals the worst thing I’ve ever heard, or actually very interesting. It sounds like a modern radio song, but also completely bat shit insane. I am bewildered and perplexed. My Lady Story - I was looking into the artist during this track. Turns out they are trans and have been essentially open since this album came out. Hell yeah sister. I still can’t decide if this album is any good, but at least she seems cool. For Today I Am a Boy - I mean yeah this is pretty TRANSparent. Thank you everyone. Thank you. I’ll be here all week. Try the chip so hot that even god himself could not eat it. Man is the Baby - Another ballad and this puppy isn’t as insane as I thought. It’s just normal piano ballads with a harsh vibrato. Not the worst thing I’ve heard but meh. You Are My Sister - Ohhh this sounds like off-kilter Adele. Couldn’t put my finger on the modern reference but I think that’s it. What Can I Do? - I don’t know. Is this Thom Yorke? Way to go big guy. Fistful of Love - Hey darlin’. I know that whispering weird, intimate stuff is a trope from songs from the 50’s that ended up in 80’s prom movies, but we’re inexplicably going to include it here. The horns are most unwelcome. I just feel this record works a little better when it’s more understated. Spiralling - I mean I uhh well there’s and you have your uhhh then there’s that thing you know haha oooh boy who and there’s that uhh ho hoo ha Free at Last - What a powerful speech from our 1st prime mister Johnson Bigelow Pontoon. Bird Guhl - It’s ok, I read British. This says “Girl Girl.” Glad I could help. I am an international citizen. I uhh didn’t like this that much, but there is enough here to say that I believe it’s of value. The album seems deeply personal, even at a first glance, and while the ballads started to get same-y for me after a few tracks, there is a clear quality of song craftsmanship here. The vibrato was funny at times, haunting at others, and didn’t overstay its welcome the way I feared it would. I’m torn here. I’m not going to be bumping this one out of the speakers of my sensible compact car (gets great gas kilometrage!), but I can respect what it was trying to do. Go off, Anohni. I might uhh not really want to hear any more of said going off, but it’s clear she has an ear for the emotionally poignant. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: My Lady Story

A different kind of dread has befallen your dear reviewer. Thoroughly influential political figure who makes thoroughly terrible music appears on a Friday and my hopes of an unblemished long weekend fade into a puff of smoke. I shouldn’t have to say this, but just because I think Bob Marley sucks, doesn’t mean I deny his influence. If you are really passionate about this guy, then good for you. There are worse artists to enjoy, but when I say I’m “dreading” this, please know that I really am just a hater of the music, and with this endeavour, I don’t believe that will change. Revolutionize my mind, Bob. I need to understand what people see in your music. Lovely Up Yourself - Oh man. That was accidentally good for a second. The screaming and the lack of shitty reggae guitar was cool! It settles into the rut Ive come to expect from this squad. No Woman No Cry - No Marley No Cry. Yes Marley Yes Painful Sobbing. Them Belly Full (But We Hungry) - Another song that sounded very cool for the first 5-10 seconds. Now, this song has a cool message and isn’t as bad as the others. That praise the equivalent of me giving this record a 5. Rebel Music (3 O’Clock Roadblock) - when I was a kid, I got a multi-coloured harmonica at Old Navy. Maybe it was GAP. Anyway. I would pull out smoother runs on that thing as a borderline toddler. This is one of the worst songs I’ve ever heard. So Jah S’Eh - I could sleep if this werent so annoying! Because uhh I’m bored. Yeah you got it. Natty Dread - Repetition really is the recipe for reggae. A recipe that has caused me a great deal of physical distress. Bend Down Low - More of the s(h)ame Talkin’ Blues - Just stop saying the same thing over and over again. Please? Revolution - If Revolution had cooler music, maybe we’d have done it by now. Am-A-Do - AAAAAHHHHH. Do it with your bad self (x76). It’s so profound. I can’t do this kind of music. It doesn’t appeal to me in any way, shape or form. It is repetitive to the point of nausea and it seems to be more about feeling good than the protest it is purported to be. I don’t know. I’ve always preferred my revolutionary music to be wrapped in angry package. This seems placid. Listless. Like “who cares about the revolution. As long as we’re havin’ fun!!!” I’m not having fun. Have a great weekend everybody. The only time I could technically pursue what I want to, but I’m frozen in a perpetual anxious state due to the fact that the infinite resumes on Tuesday. Give thanks for the great corporate society we have built for ourselves! 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: the first 5 seconds of two songs.

More Radiohead. As the list progresses, we now get multiple repeat offenders per week. Radiohead has been ok for the most part but I’m certainly not “giving thanks” upon seeing Thommy Yorke and the lads nudge their electronic instruments into frame. Considering that I haven’t even heard OF this record, I’m not anticipating a classic. I’m sure that news has shaken the earth in a far-flung nation somewhere. Or maybe that was just a regular earthquake. Listen, we don’t have time to discuss. There are lives at stake. Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box - Zany song title that is accompanied by a track that is actually pretty fun. More shock. See? I too am a reasonable man. Please do not go near my case, it contains armadillo innards. Do NOT ask why. Pyramid Song - This song tried to get me to listen to two other songs and to get those songs to listen to two other songs. I tried to get Limp Bizkit’s Break Stuff to listen to Giant Steps by John Coltrane but now I’m just financially destitute. Damn you, Pyramid song. Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors - POV MFW I pull the pulk door TMI TBH FYP #respect #pulkhead This is actually another pretty cool song. You and Whose Army? - The imaginary army I invented as a toddler (just now) that is comprised of armoured walruses with swords for tusks. That’s my army. Who is in your army? Emaciated music nerds? The reanimated corpse of skrillex? Try me pal. I Might Be Wrong - You were on this one. Geez this is dull. Knives Out - Due to the ample girth of my fingers, I often use “O’s” and “I’s” interchangeably or add superfluous instances of either letter. This is, of course, not intentional, but alas, happens regularly. I say all this to say that adding an O to English words with an I already in them makes them sound like you have an English accent. Morning Bell/Amnesiac - This is one of the worst songs I’ve ever heard. Dollars and Cents - Pounds and pence didn’t test as well in the good ol’ USA. I say “good ol’” satirically. No “good ol’” place has the top Cause of Death for children as guns. It usually just has fresh baked goods and a friendly shopkeep. That’s a good ol’ place. I like the jazz underneath this track. Enjoyable. Hunting Bears - Twink anthem to the tune of the opening riff from MTV stunt show, Jackass. Like Spinning Plates - It’s pretty ‘ard, innit? Life in a Glasshouse - It gets real hot and the sun burns my vintage Haystack Calhoun 8x10’s. Fuck the glasshouse. Ruining my good shit. Priceless hoss heirlooms. Best song on the record though. I love avant-garde stuff, but this just feels a a little dull. Lifeless. Ultimately it feels safe as far as pushing the boundaries. We’ve heard plenty of albums from around this time that do the quiet synth atmospheres and this mostly just buzzes next to those droning slogs, occasionally raising its hand meekly with a stab of jazz instrumentation or a decent track, only to retreat back into the doldrums of mediocre indie electronica. I like some of this and I hate some of this, but the rest of it was like painting your walls blue. Unconventional? Sure. Groundbreaking? Not in the slightest. I don’t hate this record, but I wanted to be challenged a bit more, or at least provided the fascinating fusions of Life in a Glasshouse. I guess I can just go listen to Neutral Milk Hotel for that. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box, Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors, Life in a Glasshouse

Big John Studd was your Royal Rumble winner, Sushi had a vice grip on the Western World’s most insufferable people and Neneh Cherry inexplicably titled an album using the latter fact rather than the first. Westside Gunn wouldn’t fumble this. He would say something about “EATING SUSHI AT THE MAYBACH DEALER, PASS THE BRICK THROUGH THE TWO WAY MIRROR. GET THE BAG LIKE BIG JOHN STUDD IN THE BODYSLAM CHALLENGE.” Keen eyed observers amongst you will have ruled out that this review was written by Westside Gunn AND will note that it was Andre who took the bag of money and spilled some of it for the fans. You can’t blame a guy for trying. What fresh hell awaits behind the tough guy pose of Neneh? Buffalo Stance - At first glance I thought this said “Buffalo Sauce.” I am indeed too fat. I am also cringing from the very first word. This is ROUGH. There are so many good female rappers. This does not appear to be one of them. Chorus is insufferable. I have heard better songs made by insane people on instagram reels. At least those elicit mild amusement and end with a swipe. Manchild - I made the mistake of reading some reviews of this album. This is one of those days that I don’t feel like I’m a human. The singing? Dreadful. I wanted the lyrics to hit harder but they are incredibly middling including the random rhyming dictionary bridge. This is supposed to be a blistering one two punch to start the album according to the morons on the internet, but both punches whiffed here. Kisses on the Wind - We’ve got an English woman born in Sweden doing some Latin dance music about a neighborhood crush. Why is this here? I know why the song is here, because of the horrible taste of the artists and album staff, but why is this record in this list. Inna City Mamma - Ham-Fisted relatability always sells. This feels heartfelt, but it just doesn’t resonate with me. I don’t hate it as much the other songs, so we’re getting somewhere. The Next Generation - Are there weird anti-abortion undertones to this? If so, gross, if not, it’s still incredibly preachy. She’s like Queen Latifah if Queen Latifah had zero talent or gravitas. Love Ghetto - I know this was 36 years ago but can we please retire that dumb instrument that reminds me of Brazil. That’s the only reference point I’ve got. It’s bad. Heart - That “full of baloney” line had me ready to stop this whole thing. I feel like I would be embarrassed for her if I heard that in the second grade. The word “confident” seems to come up in reviews for this record. Maybe she need to dial that back a little bit. Phoney Ladies - Ladies who talk on the phone. Next. Ehh you know what. The weird little breakdown around 2:30 is actually pretty rad. Obscenely rare W. As the kids say. Outré Risqué Locomotive - Gross x2. Actually just keep that going. Oh man. The deep male background vocal “Coca-Cola Cool.” Trying to write hits 101. So Here I Come - What the sweet hell is she talking about? I was dressed in green and I wore a dress I must confess that I was the best dressed. I went to school and I wanted to learn. It goes on like this. This ain’t for me dawg. Terrible rap somehow worsens lame pop tunes with really laboured messaging. We act like people were dumb morons who were just discovering basic concepts just because this was like 35 years ago. Whoa! A confident female! What a revolutionary!! This sucks and I was in pain the whole time. Never again. 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: The sweet release of realizing that the standard version doesn’t include the last tracks.

Live albums should be outlawed. That is my freezing cold take of the day. Will I have more? Probably. After MC’s 1-4 exited the stage it was time for MC5. The crowd was dopesick and a little sleepy, but this MC aims to wake everybody up and administer some NARCAN. At least that’s what I’m hoping for. I’m expecting some sloppy rock and raucous yelling from rich kids who just don’t wanna listen to mom and dad no more and now own large swaths of property. Prove me wrong. Ramblin’ Rose - TAKE 5 SECONDS BROTHERS AND SISTERS TO REALIZE THAT I AM white. I’m very white. Nah that intro went pretty hard. Good tone and holy shit I did not expect Tiny Tim to be belting out insane falsetto rock over this wicked garage rock. Kick Out the Jams - Damn this has almost metallic elements. Some of the screeching I mean. The music itself doesn’t have the required darkness but the energy is there. Kind of leveled off though. Come on MC5. Start kickin’. Come Together - This isn’t the Beatles. How can I sit here and make such astute observations whilst my contribution to global musical discourse goes largely uncelebrated? That’s the true injustice in our society. Forget rampant greed. It’s the fact that I haven’t received a large contract from Pitchfork. Rocket Reducer No. 62 - Talk - I do love this energy. Yell cooler stuff though. Not sure what’s with all the “let’s love everybody” shit. Get angry. It’s the systems that divide us anyway. Whatever. Now I’m starting to sound like them. Borderline - Uh oh. This is starting to feel like a random jam session. Motor City is Burning - Alright! Now we’re gettin’ fired up. That guitar tone is pretty lethal. I Want You Right Now - Damn, we’re bringing the riffs now. I mean, it’s basically “Wild Thing” but I don’t know which came first and it rips hard enough that I don’t care. Starship - Well. We needed the extended ambient freakout song. It was just a matter of time and how quickly the acid was able to hit. About half an hour sound right to me, and now we’re in a starship piloted by a rhinoceros exploring planets that are made entirely of cotton candy. Finally. I thought I’d hate this and I don’t. I think I’ll hate most things and I’m usually right so it’s a true gut punch that this was good. This was an enjoyable listen albeit a little same-y in places. The overall tone of the band was great, the energy was thrilling and this felt urgent and fresh. The stage patter was meh but I suppose that’s part of the whole charm of live albums. I prefer studio records but this wasn’t a bad day at the office for your humble re-reviewer. Joyous tidings you crazy diamonds. I’m still waiting for MC6 though. and for the guy with the big tooth back to pay me back for that oregano I sold him. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Ramblin’ Rose, I Want You Right Now

They had to close that diner after the nighthawk infestation. There were eggs in the microwave and large, ominous nests on every table. Ol’ Tommy is back with an old album and I’m pretty excited. He seems to be a weirdo with a sense of irony. That’s a good start, but to make light of the nighthawk diner incident where we lost two fry cooks to talon related maulings, that may be a bridge too far. Win me over pal. Opening Intro - See, the bass is great. The weird, ironic club singer with his bow tie all loosened is funny. The word choice is fascinating and I’m hooked. Emotional Weather Report - We’re continuing in this vein? Hell yeah. He’s crooning a little bit but the poetry remains gripping and I’m all here for it. Intro to On a Foggy Night - is this really live? Is this really love? Monkey shit brown Buicks is crushing with that one guy. On a Foggy Night - All upon a fucky night. I’m pretty sure that’s what he says. This the cutting edge analysis you can expect if you subscribe to my reviews. I will no longer allow you to read them Eggs and Sausage (In a Cadillac With Susan Michelson) - I can’t keep doubling up the reviews. This isn’t shaping up to be a banner review anyway. My brain is truly failing. If it wasn’t, I would give everything to write like this guy. It’s hilarious and still somehow evocative of a deeply rich atmosphere. I’ve had some pretty dangerous veal cutlets myself. Better Off Without a Wife - uh oh. The old ball and chain anthem. Being married so many times that you’re covered in rice marks is fantastic. Listen, this is probably the worst song so far with the dumbest concept, but it fits the overall aesthetic of this whole thing. Keep it rolling. Nighthawk Postcards (From Easy Street) - Ah man, you’ve been to easy street?? Oh no, wait he’s across town from easy street drinking cleaning products. I have to admit. That’s a downgrade. Hope it has gotten better for Tom since then. Warm Beer and Cold Women - I think we’ve all reached the end of an emotional cul-de-sac at one point or another. How often is that emotional end at a convenience store/bar. This one is like a Randy Newman song for drunk adults. I don’t hate it. Putnam County - The poetry continues in a pleasing vein, but the piano is a little grating here. If this is a real live audience, he seems to have completely enraptured them. I count myself amongst the awestruck throng. Spare Parts I (A Nocturnal Emission) - YEAH! Fuck up that night before, Dawn. YEAH GET HIM. Or Them. FUCK. The car noises into the admission that he doesn’t own any Stan Getz records? Gold. We’re through the looking glass here folks. Nobody - We have a left field love ballad with what feels like an earnest attempt at singing from an inebriated performer who periodically remembers that he’s supposed to be doing Kermit the frog. I kid the man. Nothing is going to change the feeling I have about this album, and this song is actually pretty decent. Big Joe and Phantom 309 - Oh no. Are we going to get a TRUCKING SONG?? This is the ultimate muse for a true artiste. That bass is just RUMBLING. I love it. I love this. I am the Tom Waits kind of white guy, I’ve decided. Spare Parts II And Closing - Preausre and Plivelege to listen as well, gang. If this is a real concert and audience, this may have to go in the hypothetical Time Machine tour that we all inevitably imagine for ourselves. I have waxed non-poetically over this poetic piece of wax for its full duration, so I assume if you’ve made it here, you’ve either skipped my yapping or know that I loved this record. I’ve run into this a few times, where I’m struck with the possibility of a glimmering five stars upon the first time hearing an album. It seems disingenuous in a way, because albums need time, but I can’t fully describe to you the itch that this scratched. The self-aware goofiness, the brilliant, yet down to earth poetry, the virtuosic bass playing. I loved this and I’ll be damned if the fry cooks who were disembowelled by those nighthawks suffer any tribute beneath the rank of perfection. I’ll begin work on my Time Machine while you chew on this celestial display. 5 HIGHLIGHTS: On a Foggy Night, Eggs and Sausage (In a Cadillac With Susan Michelson), Spare Parts I (A Nocturnal Emission)

Another lost review. This thing was too long. The most boring person you know’s favourite album. Also, can we stop changing track orders on classic albums for expanded editions? I don’t even know if I got every song. Good music, but a bloated release keep this from classic territory in my mind.

Fat guy reviews: 25. Two can play at this game, Mr. Kearns. Me need money now, me sick. Is his name Burns or Byrne? Listen, this thing is off the rails anyway. All I know is that he looks like Dana Carvey in an oversized suit that would make the 2003 NBA draft blush AND I liked the last Talking Heads album. A lot. Psycho Killer tends to make the rounds near Halloween, so maybe we’re getting some early hallow’s eve prep. I don’t care. Spin up the evil corporation’s music service. The spookiest thing of all is that society rewards sociopathy and therefore the worst people in the world rise to the top and shape our very way of living! Uh-Oh, Love Comes to Town - uh oh. It’s that song “Brandy” with more steel drums. That uhh ain’t good. Step it up, lads. New Feeling - Alright! Here we god this is the quirked up, heavy shit I was hoping for. There is a rage with this that I just love. The energy is almost punk. Fantastic. Tentative Decisions - From punk to funk. This is another frantic, weird “banger.” As the kids, and now cringeworthy millennials say. The circle of life. Happy Day - Kind of listless. I still enjoy the tortured vocals. He’s just so expressive. Who Is It? - Oh hi, I didn’t see you there. I was just enjoying reviewing albums poorly at work and I thought, why am I not behind the wheel of a 2007 Kia Rio right now. It’s clear that I have made horrible decisions. Don’t be like me. Consult your nearest scrapyard today. No Compassion - Some? I like this song a lot. The Book I Read - Red you, wrote you. I got nothing else. Don’t Worry About the Government - They’re in good hands! Billionaires! People who certainly have our best interests at heart. This song is insane. I love it. Or do I hate it. It’s certainly impactful. First Week / Last Week… Carefree - Too many song titles. Just name a different song one of these names. Come on, fellas. Psycho Killer - I mean this song is ubiquitous with Halloween and movies and and and. It’s everywhere. It still rules. One of the more insane songs to reach the heights it has. Pulled Up - This is the unreleased gangsta rap track detailing a deal gone wrong, in which Mr. Byrne’s “opps” “pull up.” I ran out of gangsta terms. A bunch of Westside Gunn listening doesn’t make up for a life forged in the Canadian suburbs. Yeah these guys are great. I didn’t like this as much as “Remain in Light,” but it remains a fascinating listen nonetheless. Unhinged vocals, sharp rhythms, and an overall bizarre atmosphere kept me engaged, although I would’ve loved a bit more darkness. This one felt manic, but I was missing some of the depression. Ah well. I’ll have to somehow fill that void with uhh Bethlehem or something. Das ist gud. Or so they say. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: New Feeling, No Compassion, Psycho Killer

PJ Puf N’ Stuf. Back with the FOURTH PJ Harvey record and jr happens to be some early work. Long before the days of the big city dreamer, we had a rocker on our hands. I have already enjoyed some stuff from this album, so I’m looking forward to it. Out of the city, into the bathtub. Rid of Me - Got a good early 90’s rock song here with the classic insanity vocals. I don’t know if they’re classic, but they are HARROWING. And I don’t mean ploughing a field with a disc harrow. Missed - Hmmm. Yeah this one was a MISS. Everything is getting real boring. Legs - Sing it Kermit style. That riff rumbles pretty good, but yeah those vocals are silly. I like when she gets more unhinged. Fewer kermit affectations, more inconsolable caterwauling. Rub It ‘Til it Bleeds - Gross. Both in the title and the grimy, disgusting track that this turns out to be. Who thought that in 7 years, all this passion would be gone. Hook - The real pop fans rejoice for the hook! Oh, wait no. Avert your ears my fragile music haters! Man-Size Sextet - This one is uhh weird. I remember the first time I went to Scotland and saw “Man-Size” tissues. What the hell is that all about? Much like this song, I am left bewildered and amused and ensnared in the maw of an orchestral cacophony. Well maybe not that last part. Highway ‘61 Revisited - Can somebody do a whole album through a 90’s landline? I’m sure it’s been done. Never mind. 50ft Queenie - HELL yeah. This song rips. Yuri-G - Forgettable tune. Man-Size - Have I been punked by a remastered edition or something again? Whatever. I wrote a big opus about how much I hate changing the track order on subsequent releases of records. It’s like changing the ending to classic literature. Whatever. Decent song, preferred the inclusion of the sextet. Dry - Kermit hath returned. And I was wrong about the song order changing. She’s just quirky. Decent song. I probably need to dive into the lyrics more. Me-Jane - Me side character Big Ape Man. Me like banana. Snake - Man, she fucking gets the fast songs. They get me AMPED. Ecstasy - Nice close. This is so heavy for what it is. Think of the general perception of PJ Harvey and the rest of her output. I knew a few of the tracks going in, but it borders on sludge at points. There are blistering fast passages and just dismal lows that are so filled with hatred that I can’t help but love them. I think if you had to limit this list to one album per artist (I know - how would we survive without 16 Bowie albums?) this has to be the PJ Harvey one. But then, I simply don’t live in a walkable community, so I don’t get the New York one. This is a good record. Challenginng, but worth the obstacles it places in front of the listener. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Legs, Rub It ‘Til it Bleeds, Man-Size Sextet, 50ft Queenie, Snake

UGHHHHH. Why? 1989? Are we serious with this? What is this album cover? Why do I ask so many rhetorical questions? Yes, I’m glad we’ve omitted the death metal catalog in favour of a mid career Steven Tyler and the gang shambling their way through attempted radio hit after attempted radio hit. Presumably. I do love to judge a book by its cover. One of my favourite pastimes. Young Lust - Gross. Hubba bubba bah unnnnnnn. This is rancid. The musicianship isn’t horrible or anything, but this is just so generic and evocative of dive bars rife with the stench of F.I.N.E - That was almost a nu-metal riff. What the hell?? Right into a boogaloo riff where we talks about getting a “woody” over a woman with “hoochie coochie eyes.” This is the antithesis of art. Going Down/Love in an Elevator - I’ll take things that never happened for $200, Alex. I believe this is the second time on this release that we’re hearing about the really gross lead singer having relations in an elevator. Has somebody alerted the people at OTIS?? The riff is alright, but the god damned whoa oh’s, the friggin’ concept and the repetition? Just unlistenable. Monkey on my Back - OH MY GOD YOURE BEING TAILED BY A RABID CHIMP. Oh wait, nope, he’s running away. He can smell this album and he is revolted. Water Song/Janie’s Got a Gun - Where did this come from? I know it’s a huge radio hit for some odd reason, but it starts off so complex. The vocals and shitty piano kill it, but that opening is pretty chilling. Can’t you just hear Bryan Adams on this? Not a compliment to either party. Dulcimer Stomp/The Other Side - Dulcimer?? I want to hear a mournful Appalachian ballad. Not this. Anything but hearing a singer say “mama.” My Girl - This poor woman. Jeez I hope she’s a full-grown woman. Who knows with these boomerly types. Don’t Get Mad, Get Even - Digeridoo into more unwashed ass rock. Hoodoo/Voodoo Medicine Man - They needed more funny sounding words so they threw in geographic term “hoodoo.” What it Takes/Hidden Instrumental - Oh I was worried that we wouldn’t get a ham-fisted ballad. Have no fear, Steven Tyler is done saying things like “my hoodoo hugabaloo boogaloo mama turns my crank and is also is 16” and now he needs to express his heartbreak. The dumb accordion stabs, are pretty funny and quirky. The instrumental is the true dulcimer hour I was hoping for. I am so tired of this kind of music. I know that as a late-stage millennial, my generation is already feeling the ire of the generations that have come since, and as we enter into the “generation beta” years, I’m sure that ire will only grow. If the young folks feel half the boredom and disgust that I do towards the jukebox rockin’, leather jacket fetishizing, boogieing, motorcycles and young mamas aesthetic of this brand of stink rock, then may they find solace in knowing that apartments painted grey or whatever they hate about us, can’t even compare to this anti-art movement. Aerosmith in 1989 is like going to see an Aerosmith show now. We’re many years removed from the prime, and even that wasn’t that prime to begin with. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: Generational lament.

Graced with artwork that would appear in a hastily tagged mural or on a tapestry stuck in a window, I completely approve. Airbrush this on a windbreaker and then give me said windbreaker. Somebody needs to have the coolest jacket in Baie-Comeau. Pipe dreams. The band that gets frequently shouted out on A Tribe Called Quest releases makes an appearance of their own. Will the influence hold a candle to the influence-ee? Beyond This World - We’re getting some 1989 riggity rappin’ here. Rhyming about positivity and also forcing rhymes. Not my favourite, but the beat is very very fun. Feelin’ Alright - This is pretty weird. Are we doing vocal jazz?? Surprisingly, that’s actually kinda alright. Sunshine - We’ve got some lyrics about rain going away and some huffing and puffing. Hmm. Uhh well. Did I mention I think the album cover is fun?? What “U” Waitin’ “4” - The driving bass here is pretty good and I appreciate the direction of butt shaking with the reminder to not break one’s back. An oft forgotten step. This is a very fun track. I mean it’s not very good, from a technical perspective, but it’s clearly very fun. Aside from the extended moaning. We probably could’ve done without that looped in my ear. “U” Make Me Sweat - The letter “U” also makes me incredibly uncomfortable. Oh God I used it AAAHHH NOOO NOT AGAIN. Fortunately I can focus on this incredibly funky beat. Even if funky contains the letter U. Try not to use vowels challenge: Difficult. God this thing rules. It’s so infectious. Acknowledge Your Own History - That’s a left turn. “Hey guys, now that we’ve torn the house down with a Parliament style funk banger, let’s delve into the complexities of history and how the western recording of said history is often inaccurate or dismissive or reductive of other races.” I’m here for it. Belly Dancin’ Dina - This beat is fantastic, but the 19 bars about having an erection at a “Belly Dancin’” bar looking at “her jelly-like belly” isn’t a good look. Hey, I’m laughing. That’s something. Good Newz Comin’ - You’re watchin’ The 6 o’clock newz. Here is your anchor, Big Hoss Cherubio. Good evening, I’m Big Hoss Cherubio. In fat guy newz, the rare species of rhinoceros from which McRib is made has been found extinct. I would’ve ensured that all of you were sitting down as I read that newz, but I feel that’s a safe bet. That’s all the time I have, as I am late for my other job at the butterfly slaughterhouse. Good night and good newz. Done by the Forces of Nature - Hey, we’ve got a bass heavy beat WITH flute? That’s pretty sick. Mostly horrible lyrics (records spun, I like to have fun by the ton) interrupted by an almost terminally lucid takedown of the mega rich only to return to 80’s word association rhymes. Beeds on a String - Uh oh. We’re getting into the long winded territory. This puppy is clocking in at 60 minutes. I mean, how else would we experience an 80’s rap record unless we listen to rhymes like “fun in the sun and I’m eating a bun, that’s a hamburger, I’m ready for a merger” for an hour? Tribe Vibes - Called Quest? This is a good one. That scream in the middle? Very good. The obligatory shout out track. J. Beez Comin’ Through - Excuse me, are you Jimmy Beez? Can I have your autograph? Im a big fan of your work. Yeah somebody has to yell at pigeons in the Bowery. Ohhhh it’s not about legendary hobo Jimmy Beez. It’s a long form way of saying “JB’s.” Black Woman - Sweet like sugar, hot like wine. Guys. We need to be a little less horny on this thing. Of course, respecting women? Lovely. They need it. This track arguably disrespects women and music because this thing is CORNY. And like “her breasts provide nutrition for growth” which don’t rhyme with anything. What is this? Women - great. Song - Dreadful. In Dayz “2” Come - I enjoy the quotation marks. They really acknowledge the wacky, zany spelling of rap records. Doin’ Our Own Dang - What the hell does this mean? Don’t say “Fat funky fruit with a whole lotta tang.” I rag on these guys, but hey, this is a really fun track with some excellent features. Kool Accordin’ “2” a Jungle Brother - Kool Accordion. Rap from this time ranges from incredibly annoying, to quaint, all the way to revolutionary. This album takes in all of that territory and more. We could’ve used some editing here, but we weren’t so lucky, and we ended up with cuts like “Belly Dancin’ Dina” and “Sunshine.” The good moments were incredibly fun and thought provoking. I can see why these guys carved out a place amongst the New York Hip Hop pioneers in this era, and I appreciate the effort. Enjoyable record. Not perfect, but hey, is any of one of you or any of us really?? Now think on thinking on it that or what have you. I have to go. I believe I may have contracted some sort of brain amoeba. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: “U” Make Me Sweat, Acknowledge Your Own History, Tribe Vibes, Doin’ Our Own Dang

Didn’t we listen to this already? I don’t know. It’s all… a BLUR. I know I know. A lot of you came to this dog track to hear droning British “rock” and gamble on competitive animal abuse, but I just wanted to take this time to thank all my loyal readers for the approximately 6 “thumbs up” across 300 reviews. It’s thanks to the loyalty of those people that I can strive to continue to make “jokes” like the one that began this paragraph. It appears that another dog is going to have to be put down around the homestretch turn, so I’ll begin my exit by saying it’s in a man to dream *GUNSHOT* *LOUD YELPING* but you’ll find that *SECOND GUNSHOT* in dreams we find out the uhh how’s that go? *GRAINY PA ANNOUNCEMENT ADVERTISING PENNY BARK-A-RITA NIGHT* that we are all uhh the men in dreams or what have you. It looks like they’ve got the corpse off the track, so I bid you all a good evening and please, enjoy the rest of the races. Oh and Blur. *SCATTERED SOBS AMONGST WAILING SIRENS.* Girls & Boys - Both?? How are we going to afford this? Duran Duran called, they said they have urgent word from the Visa fraud department. Thankfully I gave them my credit number promptly and I should be on easy street. Tracy Jacks - Related to Terry Jacks? Songsmith extraordinaire who brought us “Seasons in the Sun.” End of a Century - BLUR PREDICTS Y2K. Parklife - Ahh this is actually pretty good. Love a bit of cockney screeching. PARKLIFE. Bank Holiday - The banality of working life distilled into a mid-90’s punk tinged rock song. This somehow captures the bleakness of the infinity of employment while also sounding like a run of the mill party song. Badhead - How’s your head? Nothing but complaints, really. I kinda lead with the teeth. The Debt Collector - Ah the classic boredom interlude. I love those. Far Out - Through the looking glass, I spy a dapper alligator surfing upon a sea of rubies. From his corncob pipe, a billow of phantoms form a megalophobic nightmare in the cream cheese skies lighting the scene. Now that would be far out. Whatever this was, was more like “close in.” To the End - Even ColderPlay London Loves - Fun little poppy tune. Feels refreshing compared to the last little bit. Also? Like a decade ahead of its time. This has 2004 written all over it. Trouble in the Message Center - Whoa, this guy IS the message center? I would like to commit arson at the message center. I kid the poor man. These la la la’s do have me obsessively fidgeting with my lighter. Clover Over Dover - Mozart Moshpit. Magic America - Magic if in stead of making a rabbit disappear, you were killed in an “unpreventable” mass shooting. God bless the US of A, where civilians spay the ultimate price for freedom. Jubilee - Man I am asleep here. If it weren’t for the dense swath of This is a New Low - Oh it’s just kind of bad, not THAT bad. Lot 105 - No, this is Lot 301. We’ve laughed, we’ve cried, we’ve peeled greyhound corpses off of a modern day coliseum for psychopaths. It’s now time to end the week on a low. A boring album, that I’m sure was the “soundtrack” to some bloke’s ‘94, but it was simply the drone in the background for me for about an hour. The fun ideas were there, but appeared like pennies in a pile of gruel during the world’s worst scavenger hunt. Not very fun, and in the end, kind of a waste of time. I have donned my corrective lenses and now the blur is gone. I think that’s best for everybody. Especially LensCrafters. Greedy fucks. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Parklife, London Loves, Clover Over Dover

Start your motorcycles gents and prepare your worn once leather jackets for a trip to your summer home. That’s right folks, we’re getting some boomer rock hooked right to our veins. Although this came out in 87??? Jesus some of the death metal I like is older than this. Damn. Maybe it is I who is the “old head.” The “unc” as the terminally online white kids have taken to saying. Whatever. This is an impactful album, but I can’t anticipate I’ll be all that happy about it. Welcome to the Jungle - Was this song ever an alarm for me?? Oh god I used to wake up to classic rock radio when I was a child (no I wasn’t popular, thanks for asking.) is there a rhythm section here? It sounds hollow. This song has always been the best Guns N’ Roses song, but it still contains insufferable vocals replete with obnoxious faux moaning and runs that nobody asked for. I will say, the whole “You’re gonna die” breakdown is pretty sick. A flawed song that I would never choose, but overall, a classic in its way. It’s So Easy - This sounds like the overly sexual rock that Nickelback tried to force in the early 2000’s and now “kink-positive” predators perform on instagram. The type of music that shows up in my irony laden reels. Nightrain - Isn’t this “Night Rain?” He keeps talking about rail transport but there is only one T. His snakeskin suitcase reminds me of that terrible undertaker promo where he says The Big Show went into the desert with a motorcycle and no gas and came back carrying the motorcycle and he also killed a snake and fashioned a new set of boots out of said snake. It was pretty funny. Out Ta Get Me - Alright, the riff here is pretty good. I don’t even think we’ve made any references to a “little mama.” Mr. Brownstone - I don my stocking cap and wearily carry my candle towards my chambers. Another day atop this lonely cape in this infernal lighthouse. The warmth of my bed envelopes me and is my vessel. A cure for the most insidious insomnia. Or was that this song? Whichever. Paradise City - Synths??? YOU SOLD OUT YOU SOLD OUT. This song was cool as hell when I was 11. By 12, I was a little embarrassed that I had enjoyed it. But here we are. Pushing 30 and sitting here listening to this. My Michelle - Oh no. I’m not looking forward to this. Hard riffs until the chorus which sounds like a song written for the end credits of a Christmas themed pornography. Think About You - UGHHHHHHHH. Nope. This ain’t good. Sweet Child O’ Mine - Oh goodness gracious child. ‘Tis another fine morn on the Emerald Isle. We here in the O’ Mine clan reject this song in its totality. You’re Crazy - Stop gaslighting me. See, I know what that means!! I’m not THAT old! Anything Goes - Nope. Oh Jesus this is disgusting. Why do people want to listen to this? I mean, if a see why it wasn’t a radio hit being introduced by Casey Kasem on the radio, but my lord this is embarrassing. You need to add (as long as my prescription comes in) for the target audience of this garbage. Rocket Queen - Really gross x2 I like to make fun of stuff, but it gets a little bit mean at some point. I feel like I’m punching down. If I imagine the worst peaked in the 80’s, grown up high school bully who thinks of women as accessories to his jet ski rock and roll fantasies, yeah this album makes me want to commit homicide. BUT, there is a cool riff here and there on this thing and I know decent people who like this kind of shit. Glam rock has definitely sounded WAY worse. Still. I don’t care for this. No amount of leather could make me feel otherwise. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Welcome to the Jungle, Out Ta Get Me

I don’t even get this pun, meaning we’re off to a bad start to this increasing rare chilly October morning. Get out of my house?Come into my house? This cover is something else and it has a distinct whiff of like 2007 quirky humour. Alas, it is from the early 1970’s, meaning two things. I know nothing about this album and I am very much not excited for this. Don’t make me stop my Parquet Courts. Say it ain’t so. This Town Ain’t Big Enough for Both of Us - Jesus, how big are you guys? Or how small is this town? Competitive obesity has reached new heights. I need to bulk up. Evil ABBA has entered the arena. They have been instantaneously slain by my verbal takedowns. Crowd murmurs. Amateur Hour - HEY! That’s not nice. I didn’t hate the first song. It was too weird to hate, but too theatrical to like. This is uhh insane. Not in an outsider artist sort of way, but in a “I’ll just change train cars” way. Falling in Love with Myself Again - Oh man they were like 50 years ahead of the “I love myself” movement. Most people that harp on about loving themselves have to do so as nobody else will. Nothing wrong with a little self-esteem but try to prove me wrong. Here in Heaven - ehhhh. Thank God It’s Not Christmas - This is literally the Strokes. To be fair, this sounds so far ahead of its time, it’s insane. Not that I like the time it’s referencing but still. Props for that. Hasta Mañana Monsieur - Whoa. Combining languages. In this economy? It is a globalized world after all. Thankfully, instead of vibrant, sustainable cultures across the globe, we have a dysfunctional monoculture where global commerce has driven the world to the point of complete climate collapse. But at least we can get Listerine in Ulaanbaatar. Talent is an Asset - This Christmas get her what she’s always wanted. A Kawasaki compatible jet ski repair kit! Get her out of the house and in to the pontoon shed to work on that dang Kawasaki you’ve been sitting in for years. She wants to you to spend time with the in-laws? You better fix up that water bike, woman. I’m going Jetting. Complaints - I have a few. In My Family - In my family, we hate bad music. We be hating this one. Equator - Ecuador. Quito. Uhhhh Galapagos. Tortoises. Alex Trebeck always went there for clues. I’ll take brain dissolution for 315.84 please. What is my brain. I won. All this money. All this blood. Drenched in sanguine ooze. I’m sorry, reviewer, that is incorrect. The answer, sorry, the QUESTION was “what is the moribund gaze through the gun smoke.” Do the words “rock opera” fill you with as much pain as they do to me? Well, despite the very real chill the phrase sends up my spine, truthfully, I’ve never really been fully sure what the words meant. I imagine it’s boisterous theatre rock that has some driving narrative. Take away the narrative and add a mom trying her first edible on lead vocals, and you have “Kimono My House.” I think some people find the androgyny of this record to be punk. I love a bit of androgyny, but the music has to also you know, be tolerable. Sadly, not the case here. Kimono my Komodo dragon who will eat this record and get a rare disease only transferable between big lizards. You monster. 0.5-1 HIGHLIGHTS: A night at the operrrrra

We LOVE Latin flavours. Typically, I really don’t enjoy Latin music, and while I’m sure today will be no exception, I feel like as a white guy I need to explicitly state that despite my lack of enjoyment, that in no way makes the expression invalid. See, internet? Was that so hard? Ugh let’s get this over with. Girl from Ipanema - What’s the over under for how many times this song will appear on this list. I’ll take the over. This song should be sung by a woman. I preferred that version anyway. Tall, tan, something and lovely. Just like me. Dindi - Sloggers, rise up. We love a good painful slog through the interminable here, don’t we? Change Partners - Pass. Gross cheater anthem. Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars (Corcovado) - I’d be very worried if the stars could be heard from earth. We might have some bigger issues, like the imminent collapse of our planet. God, at least that might wake me up for a second. Meditation - I thought it said “Mediation” for a minute. This music does conjure up divorce proceedings. If You Never Come to Me (Intutil Paisagen) - Oh my god has the song changed?? How Insensitive (Insensatez) - Are the phrases in parentheses Frank Sinatra’s guess at Spanish? Or is it just Portuguese? I just ask rhetorical questions to try to stimulate some level of thought. This is like mainlining melatonin. I Concentrate on You - Orange Juice commercial type song title. Minor life detected. Wait, the fortune nay-nayed? It was written in the ancient scrolls that a spirit would whip with the intensity that fortunes nay-nayed. Listen, this is all I have. I’m sorry for my words. Baubles, Bangles, and Beads - Baubles. Excellent word. Real consonant enjoyers are having a field day here. B is a superior letter to most. Don’t get me started on G’s. Also good in the right measure. In combination??? Buggles? Incredible. Thanks for the random sound effects Antonio. Once I Loved (O Amor Em Paz) - Holy hell. Do you think all the Antonio Carlos Jobim heads were fucking amped for this crossover? I would imagine most of the Frankie fans were pretty oblivious, but Jobim nation had to be ready for a beast of a record. I can’t even believe how boring this record is. It’s almost impressive. Frankie is like 12 Valium deep here and the instrumental literally sounds like it’s being recorded from outside the elevator it’s playing in. You take a near comatose former star and pair him with the sleepiest guitarist this side of São Paulo and you’ve got yourself an audible Ambien. This album was 28 minutes, which we know is an infinity in the dream world. Sleep-RUN don’t sleepwalk to a thrift store or evil streaming corp near you and listen to the shiftless shamblings of bedtime’s sleepiest duo. Nightcap and candle holder sold separately. 1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: A restful slumber

Everyday I open this tab and I say the same thing. It’s days like this, where I see a LIVE VAN MORRISON record, that it begins to feel like the sweet release of quitting would be just what the doctor ordered. This album cover is the amalgamation of every stupid music trope I hate, but we’ve come this far. Too late to stop now. Ain’t Nothin’ You Can Do - First song and we’ve already got a loosened bow tie and a lean against a piano. This stinks but the windows are sealed and I’m forced to marinate in the stench emitted by this song. There ISN’T anything that I can do. Warm Love - The stationary stones. Fronted by Dick Bagger. Into the Mystic - Hey, leave the mystic alone. They may be a shyster and a scam artist, but you can’t just go into them, magic school bus style. This is your RECENTLY divorced dad doing karaoke. Like this shit happened on Thursday, and this is Friday night at the local karaoke bar. If I wasn’t laughing, I’d be crying. These Dreams of You - The sitcom intro horns. The goofy ass piano. This is live music for people who are only alive by the biological definition. This SUCKS. I Believe to My Soul - Good voice, but horns? This is the best song so far, without a doubt, and it’s white guy blues. The end is nigh. I’ve Been Working - Alright, we’re getting somewhere. No, shut up, Van. More solos. Never mind, we’re just in a lame Starsky & Hutch funk jam. Help Me - A cry for help of the highest order. His vocal yelps are so funny, that I can’t even hate it. I can imagine people just sort of stifling laughter as he’s gunning it white boy style. Wild Children - Name dropped celebrities? ✅ Chilled out (boring) lounge guitar? ✅ Weird grumbling ✅✅✅. We’re back in our rut. Domino - OOOHHHHAAAHHHOOOO Domino’s pizza. Dominos feel much like diners in the way that old white fucks think they’re cool. Guess what fellas? None of this is cool. If I was at this concert, I would’ve assaulted an usher to be whisked away from this event. I Just Want to Make Love to You - Those ivories are being tickled. For better or worse, I am a heterosexual, so I can only imagine the show being in the other foot. If I was serenaded with this song, and called the ace of spades, the result would not be “making love.” It would probably be a restraining order or an organized hit on the singer carried out by a mafioso. I would then flee to Barbados to live out my days as an outlaw. The one who wouldn’t be loved. Bring it On Home to Me - The boringest white guy blues song going and it’s one again of the seductive variety. We’re also apparently on Disc 2. Each passing second ticks us closer to the end of this. Saint Dominic’s Preview - I am running out of adjectives. Have I used ‘abysmal?’ Unlistenable? Tacky? Embarrassing? Valueless? All apply. Take Your Hand Out of My Pocket - Anti-tax anthem. Actually it’s more sterile “blues.” Will calling it “whites” catch on? No this song is actually about - get this - women who just want your money. An earth shattering concept that is most definitely one of the many valid reasons this album appears on this list. Listen to the Lion - Did he honestly say “for da lion.” He’s doing reggae voice. Ladies, gentlemen and non-binary friends and well wishers. It’s over. This is top 10 worst ever. Jah feel? Here Comes the Night - Into the Night, Into the night. Gloria - Makes me believe in god even less. Caravan - Van on vans. They have a violin, viola and cello player? There are way too many instruments here. For some dumb white blues record? Fucking end this. Cyprus Avenue - One last time through the piano laden whites perpetuated by the van man. He’s not making it easy. This is a horrible song and they’re obviously completely out of steam. Who is amped for this? What is wrong with you? That guy has to be a plant. HEY GUYS, ISN’T VAN MORRISON GOOD?! I can play three chords on this old guitar. Sounds just like Van Morrison in here - Dan Reeder. I was waiting for a swat team to dispel tear gas amongst the crowd and interrupt this. If Van Morrison was a van, he’d be the poorly conceived Mazda MPV. Take me a million miles from this. I think I have to go listen to Stevie Ray Vaughan or something, to prove to myself that the white folks can create reasonable blues music. If you were at this concert, my heart weeps for you, but considering I had to listen to this in its entirety in a random Thursday in October, I feel I am almost as aggrieved. Cast this into the purifying fires of hell. Or at least burn a couple copies at a scrapyard littered with the non-functioning remnants of the Pontiac Montana. Let the motor oil consecrate and create anew. 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: When he got all worked up and yelled. Hilarious every time.

I am in jail. I am being held on a bogus charge of transporting virtual big game meat through modded Euro Truck Simulator maps. I argue that I didn’t know the hippo flank steaks were the product of poachers in the Savannah and I was just accepting a contract in Botswana for “meat transport.” I will beat this. Oh, it appears a young music artist has arrived. Let’s see what he has to say. “DO A SONG ABOUT OSTRICH MEAT!” This prison is LOADED with poachers. Folsom Prison Blues - The man who cheers about a man getting killed for no reason should probably have been checked on. Oh well. This is the best performance of this song ever, but how mad would you be if you’re serving 30 years for a having a joint on you (USA USA USA) and some celebrity comes in and sings about not being free? Yeesh. Dark as the Dungeon - We’ve got hellacious folk songs about working in mines. WOOOO. I Still Miss Someone - The calm before the storm Cocaine Blues - The aforementioned storm. Jesus Christ this thing RIPS. I think he may have actually taken a shot of the titular substance before belting out this rendition. I also love how quickly the person in the story confesses. “If you’ve got a warrant; read it to me, uhh I shot her down because she slowed me down.” Way to go Bobby. 25 Minutes to Go - This had to have hit pretty hard if you were, you know, on death row? This is another fantastic, personal performance with some fun yet devastating lyrics. Orange Blossom Special - This one just made me think of Terry’s Chocolate oranges. Mmmm that’s good orange. Yes, this is a sponsored review. Buy Terry’s Chocolate Oranges. They’re Terry-ble. The Long Black Veil - More execution ballads and I’m all here for it. Cheaters getting hanged rules too. Send a Picture of Mother - Damn. Prison romance into a weary request The Wall - Hey, this isn’t Pink Floyd. Dirty Old Egg-Suckin’ Dog - Animal abuse anthem that influenced Terry Funk’s legendary insult of Dusty Rhodes. What a fun little track. Flushed from the Bathroom of Your Heart - This is bordering on a comedy record at this point. It’s such a raw performance. Other than the devastating reality of being in literal prison, this was probably a once in a lifetime event to have been at. Jackson - They brought this poor woman into a prison, and it was Johnny Cash who objectifies her on record. Wonderful. This is a fantastic track though. The female singer’s voice is out of the 30’s. Crazy. Give my Love to Rose - seemingly the track requested by the label. No nonsense here. I Got Stripes - Then we are back to prison. Green, Green Grass of Home - A nice semi-main event. It’s not a wrestling card. It isn’t? Greystone Chapel - Man. I’ve heard band announcements near the end of concerts, but bringing out the wardens to be booed is fucking nuts. What a weird album. This album feels important and like it actually needed to be love. A lot of live albums are just sloppy studio records with applause and wooing from idiots. The wooing idiots are here in force, but there is a catharsis in it, as these are obviously people who never get to see anything but the grey walls of their prison. You might anrgue that these are bad people, but knowing how prison works in the states, there is no way that all of these people are bad or even guilty of the crime they’re paying for. Johnny Cash was free to make artistic choices here that we wouldn’t have been allowed to make if this was a straight studio release and this is one of the best live albums to ever be released. Can’t keep this one behind bars. Let it out. Justice for Johnny. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Folsom Prison Blues, Dark as the Dungeon, Cocaine Blues, Jackson

Much has been said about the “foo” that was to be fought by this band. Was it a colloquial shortening of the word “fool?” Was it a bastardizatipn of the martial art “kung fu?” Probably that one. It’s not a big mystery. Uhhh I don’t really like this kind of music. This is the end of grunge and the beginning of Nickelback. It’s somewhere in between those two entities and I look forward to seeing exactly “how this reminds me” of the great Alberta stink rock outfit that’s we’ve come to know and despise. Ok Foo’s, start fighting. This is a Call - Somebody likes the Beach Boys. No, that isn’t a playful playground tease towards a girl who has a crush on one of the guys who is constantly down on the beach spilling dune buggy motor oil into rare starfish habitats. This is a pretty decent song despite it reminding me of commuting to the my mail delivery job in my early 20’s. I’ll Stick Around - Whoa! Riffs?? Repetitive vocals and that distinctive Dave Grohl vocal that the years have been cruel to, but we’ve got some fire, and some god damned riffs. Incredibly easy folks. Big Me - uhhh what was that? Alone + Easy Target - + ratio. Ugh I hate speaking like the internet. Why do I do it? Learned verbal ticks from endless scrolling that I’m fully sure is as addictive as some drugs. Good Grief - The good kind of grief, or a heart wrenching tribute to one Charles Brown. Floaty - This is strating to “float (y)” by me. Weenie Beenie - We have dumb 90’s megaphone voice everybody. Why was this effect so popular? But hoooo boy that riff. I like the nods to metal in this. Could do without the megaphone, but keep this energy high. Oh, George - This is a nice little break. There are distinct moments here that remind you of the time. This feels more radio friendly, except for the rare guitar 90’s solo which you’d never hear back then. Well, some bands were moving away from it. Whatever. If you’re reading this, youre probably not looking for a music historian’s take on the record. You’re probably the most bored you’ve ever been because you’re like 16 reviews deep on the Foo Fighters debut “about” page in this website. For All the Cows - Finally, a song for our bovine friends. It’s pretty catchy too. X-Static - Isn’t this another band. No, that’s Static-X. Don’t they suck pond water? I don’t have time for that. One bad record a day please. All I can handle. This one isn’t even so bad! The song is kind of a snoozer, but you know. Wattershed - Uhhh. I kind of forgot to type anything. That happens a lot. Exhausted - Atmospheric black metal intro into a sad 90’s indie song??? YES! Great way to close this thing. This had more art to it than I expected. I’m still not in love with his vocals, but they were less obnoxious here than they would get on future releases. In many ways, this is a meat and potatoes rock record, but it has enough interjections of uniqueness and excitement to take it past that into the territory of intrigue. This was not an incredible album, but considering I expected a monster energy soaked ozzfest ticket in audio form, I was pleasantly surprised. Now, hand me alien blaster, I need to experience a psychotic episode during laser tag. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: This is a Call, I’ll Stick Around, Weenie Beenie, Exhausted

Late addition album and it looks all quirked up. They’ve got the BK crown and the double vision album cover? Give this artist the BAFTA. Listen I’m being careful with pronouns here because lord knows what’s goin’ on with this fella. I move to make “fella” gender neutral. It’s my favourite word. TC & Honeybear - Holy SHIT, they got Honeybear lore on here?? I’m not gleaning anything new. This is entry level Honeybear info. R/bigfatbearcreatures is well versed in all of this. I need new shit. Marz - Jason Mraz. Remember how bad that guy sucked? Kind of like this David Bowie track over the piano overture from an elementary school Christmas play. Turns into an ok track. Where The Dreams Go to Die - Man Adele. Male presenting at least. Gotta keep up my non gendered language. Fuck I’m dumb. Uhh anyway, this is kind of a nice song. Lilting slow dance melody. The vocals still hit me as pretty generic, but the songwriting is there. Sigourney Weaver - Hooo boy, I’m gettin’ a skosh snoozy. Chicken Bones - Mongoose mentioned. Swears mentioned. This is kind of a funny one. I’ll take that in lieu of great intrigue or uhh musical enjoyment. Silver Platter Club - I’m starting to get quirky millennial from this, and I’m not thrilled about that. On the other hand, it’s kind of endearing in its way. Ugh. Yeah this track is actually very good. Relatable feelings of dread surrounding your own mental and physical traits, with that same tone deaf superiority complex so many of us stampede through life with. The highs and lows of being self-aware, boiled into a weird polka adjacent song. It’s Easier - Yeah, when the songs are GOOD, it’s easier. I actually have no metric for what is good or bad anymore. Did I ever? Ken eyed observers will see that I never did. Outer Space - Nobody ever talks about Inner Space. Think about that. What is big solar system hiding? Maybe it’s these vocals actually getting good. Weird stuff, fun melody. JC Hates Faggots - Uhhhh can we say this? Are we on the air?? Yeah I like statements that make people uncomfortable like this. A gay man singing about himself ironically, the way that people speak about this group of people in REAL LIFE has more power if he doesn’t mince words. If anybody’s gender or sexual orientation bothers you, you have no brain and are the reason the world gets more easy to control by the day. Caramel - Powerful vocal performance. More space noises as well, which don’t go unenjoyed. I don’t care if that’s not a word. Fuck you, English. Leopard and Lamb - Leopards are fucking terrifying. Don’t they frequently eat people on places where they’re common? And they like break into houses. Why are we not sorting this out? Earth confuses me. Queen of Denmark - Pissing in coffee is a time honoured tradition, pioneered by Chris Jericho. Well, I guess that was tea, and probably not the first time it happened. Alright. Part 2010’s millennial parody album, part deeply emotional autobiographical with excellent songwriting. I suppose that leaves “Queen of Denmark” somewhere near the middle of my rating scale. I enjoyed its off the wall turns of phrase and diary-esque nature. There were even some points of relatability here!!! Wow. Thanks for this. A rare non-stinky 2010 album and a nice way to spend a shitty Tuesday in this interminable cycle of wake-work-dread work-sleep. Fanks Johnny. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Where The Dreams Go to Die, Chicken Bones, Silver Platter Club, Outer Space

Our first foray into the serene singer/songwriter world of Crosby, Stills, and Nash. Of course, you can add “Young” to that, but we’ve created that mountain more times than I would’ve liked. These guys are famed for their smooth daddified rock canon, and I’ll be darned (or de barned) if I’m not curious about the guy with the stuffed giraffe on the album cover. Take it away middle man. Love the One You’re With - Not only are we paddlin’ down the Mississip’ we’re also on board with a Christian youth group. Cast me overboard. Do for the Others - This is an improvement, but we’re still at bible camp. Despite the fact that I’m sure bible camp is a real hoot, surprisingly, I’d rather be anywhere else. Church (Pt. of Someone) - Little girl mentioned. You owe me 50 bucks. This is more horrific church music desperately hoping to be considered soulful. I suppose if it is church music, it would be apropos that he mentioned an underage girl. Old Times Good Times - White boy (house of) blues. The type of music blaring from the speakers in the Ford F250 owned by a married guy who comments “sexy body” on AI instagram model pages. Just listen to blues. It’s way better. Like the basics. Muddy Waters. Lightnin’ Hopkins. Anybody but Whitey McColonizer here. Go Back Home - Can I? Please? I’ve been thoroughly angered by the first few tracks but this is whatever. It’s a fun little jam despite its desperate attempt to be its influences. Sit Yourself Down - Yamaha on the metronome everybody. This is back to stink village. Fire the choir. To a Flame - Just like the moth is drawn to the flame, I too will buzz closer and closer to a great light source in order to die. Black Queen - BOOOOOOOO. I would be hurling rotten produce at this guy as would the other 6 patrons at open mic night. College “poet” learns a barre chord and stood sort of near a protest once. I hate this. Cherokee - This week on Columbo, a white boy incorporates Sitar elements and reggae into a terrible blues song where he fetishizes an indigenous woman. I can’t stress enough how much this sucks. We are Not Helpless - You’re right, I CAN turn this off. I won’t, but I CAN. I have the power. I am in a prison of my own creation. Blow your trumpet, Gabriel. Cleanse my ears in the purifying fires of hell. For they have suffered enough. You know when I start with my medieval hell prose that I’m not ok. I was so excited for this. Well, this group of artists anyway. I expected beautiful folk balladry with impeccable harmonies. What I got was loud, WHITE, “blues” and “gospel” that misses all the emotion of the genres it’s blatantly bastardizing. This is music for idiots. People who wish they were somebody different and who never will be. Keep learning your blues guitar licks. You may get the “how,” but you’ll never ever ever be able to grasp the “why.” Now I’ve got the blues. 0.5-1 HIGHLIGHTS: Go Back Home (Don’t Mind if I Do!)

Ahh Nick Cave. An early pariah in this endeavour as he produced what I believe was my first 1-star review. I will NOT check. His bombastic Elvis impersonation stretched over 90 minutes did not make for a pleasant experience sometime last year. There was the more forgettable murder ballads record as well. Looking back, I stand by my disdain for the records, but I will say, I love “Fable of the Brown Ape.” That shit rips and it’s probably worth the full 1 star I gave Abbatoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus. Alas, I’m hoping this is a more mellow Nick Cave with a nod to songwriting and lyricism rather than Vegas stage shows with hack poetic tendencies. I hold no place in my life for performative male Elvis impersonators from the USA of Oceania. With that horrible, biased opener out of the way, it’s time to blast the foghorn in anticipation of the boatman’s call. Or the Coatman’s Ball. Why are you gagging so, he brings you your coat every time you hand him the coat check ticket. Into My Arms - Holy man. This is pretty fucking stinky. Nick Cave, the irredeemable “artiste” composes a boring piano riff to deliver substandard poetry over and I’m in store for about 48 (minutes) to life. Lime Tree Arbour - Slight interest piqued. Nah, this is Leonard Cohen with a brain injury. People Ain’t No Good - I think this was in The Simpsons. Or something like that. This is a fine enough song. Like I would probably tune this out effectively if I were at a bar or something. At least for the first few minutes. Too long! Boooo! Brampton Oratory - Two twos crodie fam. My word fam. Oh I thought this said “Brampton Oratory.” There is a Kingdom - The gardens of Mesopotamia dance with the life of a thousand planted seeds. Not a one planted by the king, yet all turn to the sunlight of his rule. Nourishing to those who can synthesize it, scorching death for those who fall under its radiant scrutiny. Speaking of scrutiny! This song sucks the big brown ape’s weird fuzzy nuts. (Are You) the One I’ve Been Waiting for - Imagine the guy who imagines his love life to this kind of music. The type of guy who criticizes his girlfriend for reading a copy of People magazine in a waiting room. Or maybe the kind of guy that criticizes his girlfriend for getting McDonalds when there are no other options available. A real winner. The keeper type of guy. Where Do We Go But Nowhere - There are people who are attracted this man in a carnal fashion. There’s hope for anybody. Although there is a demographic who are easily swayed by bad poetry. Alright, I audibly heaved when he said that him and his victim uhh I mean partner “fucked up the sun and fucked it down again.” That’s not even a cogent metaphor. West Country Girl - I don’t wanna go to school today. No I won’t get up. Black Hair - Wow, cool song about some poor woman’s hair. What terrible decisions she makes. Idiot Prayer - Please, whichever deity is on the clock, strike down this music. I’m hoping it’s one of the vengeful evil deities people worship for some reason. Good chance it will be as I’m pretty sure that’s all of them. Far From Me - What is where I want this album? No im sorry, it is where is a Nick Cave legally allowed to be from the perspective of his most recent partner. Green Eyes - The background vocals sound like that Bo Daddy Harris guy from instagram. Whoa he said a swear!!! Get this guy a record deal. Oh wait, they did already. Best song on the record and it’s because it’s the only attempt to do something that is in any way interesting and different. Too bad the execution reminds me of a botched execution. I am squirming against the straps of the execution floor’s gurney. Please end this. Nick is the most insufferable front man in music history. No! It’s Bono, but we’re in the same rarified air. This depresses me in a way I didn’t think was possible. I don’t think making depressing music is the artistic benchmark it’s seen as, considering people with real mental health issues don’t actually want to have them (crazy right??). It’s not an aesthetic. It’s not artistic. It usually just means sleeping for 48 hours and eating saltines right out of the sleeve. Not even Prozac could touch this record. It’s earnestly recorded as an artistic statement and fails in every possible way. Music for guys who are writing screenplays in which they are irresistible to several women. Coming to a gentrified café near you. Cover your 7 dollar coffees, ladies. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: *BIG FOGHORN NOISE*

I’m breeding a range of super dogs that are trained to sniff out cantaloupe rinds and this is how it gets exposed to the world. They’re not ready for prime time. Honeydew is up next, but Jesus Christ, I’m only one man. Do you know how many border collies I have fed cantaloupe to? Good, and you won’t know. I suppose after you find that breeding a range of super melon dogs, infinite depression is the result. I hate it here. Humble reviewer, smiling politely and anticipating an artistic romp through the dog tracks of the cosmos. Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness - YES! That weird instrument is here. All I know is that it features heavily in the weirder old jazz stuff. This be a fine intro, yarrrr. Tonight, Tonight - I know this song. Not in the biblical sense of course. I uhh don’t care for it. Sorry. I want more angst. Jellybelly - Oh my word I thought there was an accidental shuffle towards some of my harder stuff. No no, not my harder drugs, but my harder music. We settled back into Regular ol 90’s alt-rock, but I’m enjoying it. Zero - This is genuinely one of my favourite riffs ever. It is like if a wrestling theme song became artistically viable. It captures all the angst and coolness that my 14 year old self would appreciate and distills that energy into a song that can appeal to people who are capable of thinking about more than pro wrestling and their awkward pubescent stage. Here is No Why - This is going to be a long record. Not because it’s bad, but because I’m forcing myself to talk about a bunch of songs that will conceivably be like this. Good little rock tunes, with not much in the way of negativity to espouse. I yearn for the hatred. Bullet With Butterfly Wings - The world is a vampire. A cool one with the big pointy cape. Not the teen style. Old Transylvania style. Deserves every play it’s ever received. How the hell did this crack the mainstream. The 90’s were wild. To Forgive - Is human, to build a series of homemade bombs and make several anonymous threatening phone calls to government facilities, that’s divine. An Ode to No One - the loud tracks remain the best. This starts more meat and/or potatoes than some of the previous scorching tracks, but it gets weird enough. Love - Uhhh speaking of wrestling. This is probably what ECW ripped off for their theme. Then we’ve got 90’s megaphone voice in full force. This is alright. Cupid de Locke - Spacey. Not Kevin Spacey, Jesus come on. Galapagos - Hmm. This song kind of sucks. I was hoping for more tortoise based content. Muzzle - This feels very radio friendly for the time. Sometimes I use that as an insult, but I get more of a nostalgic comfort with this song rather than a corporate vibe. Porcelina Of the Vast Oceans - Porcelain based god who patrols oceans. Good topic. Mid song. Take Me Down - Different vocals?? I want my money back. This is kind of sweet, but guys? We’re an hour into this and we have more than an hour left. Ugh. Where Boys Fear to Tread - The cool riff store? I’m not mad about this record being this long if we keep up this kind of devastating (emotionally) riff style. Bodies - LET THE BODIES HIT THE floor. Oh. It’s not that song. Thirty-Three - The Jesus allegory for the evening. Or it’s not about that at all. Man this is a long album! I feel like we could’ve left this one in a notebook. In the Arms of Sleep - Me too. Being rocked gently into the sweet hereafter. Temporarily. 1979 - A classic for all the times. I’m more partial to the harder hits like “Zero” but this is a quintessential 90’s track. Also! If this song were made today it would be called “2009.” Prepare my mashed food, I’ve got one foot in the grave here. Tales of a Scorched Earth - Basically a Crowbar song title. Nice burst of energy, despite the megaphone cliché. Thru The Eyes of Ruby - Alright. Wrap it up. Time to go. Is that the time? Stumbleine - These guys like weird girl names. Keeping these in the baby name book. Stumbleine and Porcelina. The twins. X.Y.U - YEAH. I yearn for these tracks. Cut a bunch of the fat from this thing and you’ve got a hell of a record. Sludge and aggression is something that these guys really excel at. We Only Come Out at Night - C.H.U.D ANTHEM. Beautiful - GRISELDA. B-B-B-B BOOM. Oh it’s not a Westside Gunn beat. It should be. This turns into a motivational Christmas song. A true low. Lily (My One and Only) - Animal Crossing type beat. By Starlight - American Radiohead. Farewell and Goodnight - As you can tell, I have nothing left to say. If you’re still here, please help me get out of this format. I’ll never be a writer, why do I put myself through this? Got to keep the brain treading the water of short-form content and microplastics for a bit anyway. The feds are at my door. It turns out my collie breeding was not “ethical.” Whatever that means. I’m a “threat to the safety of animals.” Eat shit. You ever see a Collie that eats nothing but primo melon scraps? I have never seen a shinier coat. This thing GLOWS. As I lean my gargantuan frame against the door and await my impending arrest, I look back upon the past two years, err sorry hours of my life. No album should be this long and I’m irritated by the very notion that it was. There is so much filler here. Just put half of these tracks on a super-duper expando deluxe 23 year anniversary triple colour vinyl edition with recordings of the band members’ flatulence on Side F. One for the true freaks. Cut the extra out for normal listeners and we’ve got an excellent record. There are highs on this record that are rarely reached in modern rock music. Zero is one of the greatest mainstream songs of all time, but when you play Citizen Kane in amongst six other movies that are just Jean Claude Van Damme action flicks with audio sync issues, the whole experience loses some of its lustre. I was hoping for more Mellon collie and less infinite sadness. *OPEN UP YOU’RE SURROUNDED* it looks like I’m going to have to shoot my way out, so I leave you with this. Please do not make two hour albums. No matter how good some of your ideas may be. 2.5-3 HIGHLIGHTS: Jellybelly, Zero, Bullet With Butterfly Wings, 1979, Tales of a Scorched Earth, X.Y.U

All of em? There’s five guys though. I thought that each one might represent a direction. What the hell is the fifth guy doing? Dorth? BEast. I like that we’re inventing new directions already. Before you say “errrm southeast is a direction.” Shut up. Do you hear yourself? Make a friend. Engage with life in a more whimsical fashion. What fresh hell awaits me today? Funky Music Sho Nuff Turns Me On - Oh sweet Jesus this isn’t a live album as well, is it? Omission of all but a few founding metal records in favour of a bunch of bloated live albums. I am NOT in a good mood here, and if I were in this audience, I’d be hurling rotted produce posthaste. Run Charlie Run - Ok, it’s not live. I did not anticipate racial slurs. Uhhh I expected a squeaky clean, and ultimately palatable romp. I still don’t really care about this, but it’s surprising me. Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone - Oh no, he wasn’t Charlie Watts was he? God forbid he was the uhh bassist uhh Ronnie Wood. God. I mixed up the last names there initially. Love Woke Me Up This Morning - Fuck You I Ain’t Got Nothin’ - Correct. Actually, what you have here is a pretty morose little doo woo track. Kind of good. The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face - Oh my god. I can just see sitting around with your band, being completely ripped and being like “we should get the bass player to sing the world’s schmlatziest love song.” You know what, I think if I did hear this while stoned, tears of rapturous laughter would be squirting out of my eyes at the “captive bird” line and “the first time ever I laid with you.”This is a gem, for all the wrong reasons. Mother Nature - I stand naked in the sun in order to increase my chances of a malignant melanoma in order to have an excuse to recuse myself from listening to more shitty music. Do Your Thing - Unless of course, it’s make good music, then please do NOT do that. You will be despised by nerds from here to Timbuktu. I am rather sour today. I put this off so I didn’t have to write about it on my day off, and now being back at work for what feels like forever and listening to music I don’t care about has produced a mood so foul, I was probably harder on this than I should’ve been. It’s FINE. Not in a “fine quality” sort of way, but more just meh. Thankfully, it was short. Only slightly shorter than my patience for overrated 70’s music. 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: I Ain’t Got Nothin’

Boobs?! I am too tired for this. Three naked women covered in mud don this album cover, and it makes me think we’re in for a raucous record. Are these three the band? Or am I to be swindled again by some boring 80’s post-punk? My guess is that it could be both! Optimism is always punished here, but maybe this time it’ll be different. Pathetic. Instant Hit - It’s sounding like it could be a girl band. Hell yeah. This is not boring so far either! Minutemen with pan flutes and mud covered girls. I mean, it’s weird, but it’s still pretty cool. So Tough - I’m getting slight reggae influence which is sending me into a tailspin. White people, please stop aping black music so blatantly. It’s embarrassing and also extremely painful. I like that this is all over the place and odd, but the reggae is killing me. Spend, Spend, Spend - Consumption anthem. More bizarre, jerky, punky erratic music tinged with reggae. Mostly a pass. Shoplifting - Oh wait, we were buying, now we’re… stealing??? These girls are crazy! Yeah this is much better despite her saying “Babylon.” Give it a rest. FM - Have I said “off the wall” in this review? Well this is more “on the wall.” Like throwing all the shit at the proverbial wall and seeing what sticks. Newtown - Something about this is too happy. The dropped fork sample is cool. I don’t know. This is fine. Ping Pong Affair - Oh man. They covered it. The forbidden yet fascinating love affair between rival ping pong players 文吴 and 富张. Truly beautiful, yet tragic as they were removed form the Chinese Olympic team. They moved to the more tolerant Jamaica, and learned to play the steel drums with ping pong balls. They inspired this horrible reggae fusion song. Love und Romance - UGH. You are a white lady from Germany. Stop saying “Babylon” in that accent. Excellent discordant piano though. Typical Girls - Yeah these are anything but. We’ve still got bad music going on here. If somebody assassinated this guitarist, we might have a killer record on our hands. Asking the questions of our time. Who invented the typical girl. Adventures Close to Home - More of the same! I believe this record sounds how mania feels. There are vocal inflections and ideas here that have me loving this record, but overall the reggae is its death knell. I like this more than your garden variety record we get access to daily, but there isn’t much here for me. That’s ok, records don’t have to be for me. If you go and do your little white girl reggae album and you gain acceptance from the progenitors of the genre, cool. I still think it’s insulting. Even if I think all reggae sucks, cultural vampirism sucks worse. The punk energy of this was great, some of the samples and ideas were fantastic, the vocals were dynamic and vibrant, I just don’t like reggae. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Shoplifting, Love und Romance

Blue (Man Group) Cheer has dropped into my beleaguered web browser and I’m kind of excited actually. Of course, these guys get thrown around in the “metal pioneer”conversations that are always held by complete and utter morons. I’m not expecting metal of any sort, but a nice guitar fuzz? That’ll go down nicely. Fire up the tube amps fellas and do that thing with the production where it’s not very good. My ears are baying for blood. Summertime Blues - Rumbling guitar? Summer hating? Count me in. I don’t know what the congressman has to do with this, but I suppose I’m not very swift on the ol’ uptake. Rock Me Baby - Sometimes you gotta switch up the rocking dynamics on infants. For too long, we’ve rocked babies to sleep when a role reversal would be most welcome. Just imagine a gentle rocking to sleep. Would go down a treat. Perhaps I yearn for the seas. More introspection to be done. Doctor Please - I don’t think there are any appeals to medical professionals during this extended guitar solo. I believe the doctor would be very uncomfortable as the band unloaded all their gear in that tiny office and set up. Wait a second! This is about intravenous drug use. I can’t abide by that. Get out of my practice. Out of Focus - This is the song about how I got kicked out of focus because I thought we should stop playing “Hocus Pocus.” What?? Why are you booing me? Parchment Farm - Sweet riff. Lyrics about spousal murder. Old school justice (?). Second Time Around - Inna Gadda da Vida honey. Oh it’s not that song. Close enough. Welcome back Iron Butterfly. This was fun. It feels very jam band in its buzzy chaos. I usually don’t really care for records of jam band material, but this was just short enough that it scratched certain itch. Nothing blew me away here and Lo and behold, metal was still to be discovered but this was a good time filled with distorted guitars, loose bass and thunderous drums. I could even listen to this again sometime! Crazy. Lay back, hand roll a left-handed cigarette and turn off the moon landing as it is a publicity stunt for a fascist regime and you are but a crusader for freedom and love. It’s the 60’s baby. That’s kind of all we’ve got. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Summertime Blues, Parchment Farm

WHO? I mean I obviously know the household name of “G. Sauce” but Special Sauce? Oh wait it’s “G. Love.” Literally looking right at it. Whatever. 57 minute duration and a recommendation for a “funk rock” playlist looming like a horror movie jump scare, I pray for the end times. The end of this album that is. The other end times are almost assuredly here. Technology has finally caught up to human hubris and we can really do it this time!! The Things That I Used to Do - Prominent double bass is good. Uh oh. This is feeling Sublime. Please notice the capitalization there. The concept of something being sublime versus the band of the same moniker are two very different things. Blues Music - This is a minor improvement, even if it is just an interpolation of that Buffalo Springfield song. The vocals remain cold, grisly death and they are contributing to the further degradation of my already dying brain. Garbage Man - Hit the vocalist with a dart gun. We were in a nice little groove until we have this white guy sass rapping. Eyes Have Miles - The thousand yard stare. Makes sense. That’s where I’m at. I’ve directed a lot of deserved hate at the singer, but the guitarist is also a hack. Baby’s Got Sauce - Gross. Oh my GOD this sucks. Stop doing this accent. Confidence is overrated. Bring back shame. Rhyme for the Summertime - man it’s continuing like this hey? I wish this had more of a parody tone but I can’t even laugh at it. Cold Beverage - Yeah could I get a splash of arsenic in there? Thanks barkeep. Fatman - Nobody in this band is fat. I can tell from how nothing is funky or cool. This Ain’t Living - Apparently this is the “official audio.” I would hate to hear the unlicensed bootleg audio of this track. Actually, in order to harm this band, I think I might want to get a pirated copy of this song. Even better if it contains a Limewire-esque ad midway, then even better. Walk to Slide - The open mic night is starting to clear out. Friends of the band (Honorary Special Saucers) are the only remaining patrons. Well, and me. I am strapped to a chair screaming against the duct tape that was placed over my panicked maw around track 2. Shooting Hoops - Were playin’ Bas-Ket-Ball. I can’t even believe this isn’t a parody. Hey guys I know about basketball players! Please accept me. Some Peoples Like That - More shitty white pseudo-blues. Town to Town - Like the reaper goes door to door. I Love You - Oh no. Oh heavens no. Does he have a horrible speech impediment? I can’t wait for this to end. CEO’s son’s Ivy League Jam Band featuring white guy Caribbean tinged raps. I’ll let you decide if that’s something you’d be into. Wait, no I won’t, this is my review. I would rather listen to a dentist drill than music that even approximately fits the first sentence of this paragraph. G Sauce and the Special Bros or whatever fit it to a tee. This is Sublime for people who listen to NPR. This is music for the type of guy who will randomly freestyle rap while out with his friends. It’s for the guy who gets really angry at board game nights. One more, it’s for guys whose favourite rapper is Lin Manuel Miranda. This was gross. I need a shower. 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Rapturous Booing

So what I was a little lazy? So what I avoided listening to this in order to extend the carefree nature of my weekend? So what that extended to Monday? Who cares? I do. Deeply. That’s why I’m writing about this. This is my sincere apology to the vast, vast legions of readers that tune in daily for half-baked musical takes littered with typos and ill-informed rhetoric. It eases the pain to know that I haven’t disappeared and I will continue to lazily churn out slop for my hogs (that’s what I call my fans) who need to hear what I spew forth while avoiding emails at work. Document THAT. Finest Worksong - The finest? I’ll be the judge of that. Upon further review, it’s really not the finest one I’ve ever heard. Working Man by Rush rips pretty hard. Anyway. This song is fine. Welcome to the Occupation - Hell yeah. We’re getting all minor keyed here. I am now fully occupied by the spirit of Michael Stipe. I don’t believe he is dead, but here we are. Exhuming McCarthy - Oh no! The members of R.E.M have been arrested on suspicion of grave robbing. They exhumed the wrong McCarthy. Sad. The widow was devastated. Disturbance at the Heron House - Man is Tragically Hip really just the Canadian R.E.M? Trouble at the Hen House? Disturbance at the Heron House? So much turmoil in the fowl lodging communities. An issue that can unite the two vastly different nations. Other than their usual bonding over orally servicing billionaires at the expense of their populations. Strange - Good! It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine) - You won’t believe it! Quirked up white boys invent rap. Read as if it’s a click bait article. Memo: remove all instructions to readers from “finished” review. Oh yeah. It’s “finished” alright. Where was I? Fun song. The One I Love - This song has always been cool. The swinging jangle of it all. A classic and for good reason. Fireplace - Somebody had the audacity to call me in the year 2025 and I lost my train of thought. I know I’m kind of liking this record though. Big ups to the R.E.M. Lightnin’ Hopkins - This has nothing to do with that guy, but man this was a fun one too. Erratic twangy, and ultimately, enjoyable. King of Birds - A shabby husk of a man. Aerodynamically thin, covered head to toe in discarded feathers, held on with smeared bird excrement. Scarred with the clawing of his subjects. The king of birds presides over his kingdom. Terrified squawks from the harried rabble meet the verdict of death cast down for their crow brethren. Another feather to the tyrant king, whose thirst for baubles is only exceeded by his lust for power. A naturally loyal species, betrayed by an outsider. Long live the king. Dismayed are the fowl that cross the Avian despot. Oddfellows Local 151 - This song is about Peewee Herman. The word of the day is “jangle.”This is a weird little B-52’s-esque romp to close us off. Short and actually pretty sweet. What a time to be alive. Older R.E.M not only made me type that band name into my fucking phone keyboard like six times (switching tabs for punctuation is a bitch) but it made me enjoy the band. This thing isn’t going to change my world (as I know it) but I certainly feel that it’s fine. And that is how you end a terrible review. Begone. I grow tired of this. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Welcome to the Occupation, It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine), The One I Love, Lightnin’ Hopkins

Is this really just a vehicle for “Sledgehammer” to make this list? I have seen enough movies and been to enough grocery stores to know what awaits me under that ten pounds of lead, but what worries me is the rest of this. We have to pad out an entire record with songs that are conceivably even worse than Sledgehammer? Not my day. Oh well, start smashing away at my cranium Big Pete. I’m ready to hate again. Red Rain - Brian Adams for pseudo-intellectuals. You see peasant I don’t listen to your mainstream “Summer of ‘69.” I listen to a guy who does the same shitty thing but he is British and has a synth player. I am simply on an elevated plane. Sledgehammer - Hammer Smashed Face was actually about the hammer in this song. Amazing how nepotism tinges the music industry. Did he say “open up your fruit cage?” Jesus Christ. Well. This is zero stars. Not even flute can save you. Don’t Give Up - That’s right, don’t give your IP address to anybody. They could discover that you listened to Peter Gabriel. That backing vkcal is HORRIBLE. So cheesy. I have never seen a better advertisement for suicide in my life. That Voice Again - oof this friggin’ BLOWS. In Your Eyes - Big garbaggio’s theme song. From the Dump Barge festooned off the coast of StinkTown USA, Weighing in at 682 pounds, the disgusting one, BIG GARBAGGIO. He is pelted with garbage (it is a beautiful compliment) Mercy Street - Please pay me some of the mercy that may be found in this street. Big Time - Can you use the word in a sentence? Yes. Peter Gabriel’s 1986 album “So” sucks Big Time. Ahh yes. B-I-G T-I-M-E. We Do What We’re Told (Milgram’s 37) - History doesn’t smile upon the “we were just following orders” defence. This really is bad to me. I’m sorry. I just don’t like pop for the most part, and when I see the internet ordain certain pop albums as somehow elevated, I just get irritated. Im sure it’s because of my stunted intellect but I just dint care for most of the sounds pop has to offer. Yes, this is obviously an artistic cut above an LMFAO release from 2009 or Ke$ha’s greatest hits but I still think it’s a weak, watery grave that I was ensnared in for the interminable length that this record went. I’m no David Blaine, so unfortunately I just drowned. That’s the real Mindfreak. Magic heads, don’t get mad that I mixed up the two most famous magicians. Blow your trumpet, Gabriel. Get me outta here. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: Noooo. Nah. Uhh. Nooo. I’m sorry. Yeah uh huh. No, yeah I’m sorry no. Yup, nope. Yeah uh huh. Yep, nope I’m afraid. Yeah. Alright. Oook. buh bye now.

Ol’ Jaylon Wennings is on the case, ready to surely deliver a mediocre romp featuring the phrase “Honky Tonk” several times. There are some all time stinker words and phrases in our language but Honky Tonk glows red with the hatred of a thousand demonic entities. It only takes two words to keep me out of a place. “Keep Out” for example. “High Voltage” comes to mind. “Disemboweling Fog.” Yikes! Honky Tonk has that same effect. Yet here I enter, as if I am to have my intestines removed by a mysterious malevolent fog, I stare into the cold abyss. Tune that steel guitar and cast me into the red light emanating from it. Honky Tonk Heroes - The prophecy is fulfilled. Clean 70’s country is pretty boring. Colour me uhh pretty bored. Old Five and Dimers (Like Me) - So you’re a Honky Tonk hero, you’re an Old five and dimer. Make up your mind, pal. I swore he said fast fucks in this heartfelt ballad. I was flabbergasted. Alas, he just said “fast bucks.” There is something so deeply depressing about this. Not even in a good way. Just music to numbly stare at the wallpaper to. Willy the Wandering Gypsy and Me - Whoa. A mysterious lil nomad man!? I can’t stress enough how much we need songs about freaks. Unless this is just about Willie Nelson. Low Down Freedom - I’m not sure I like the frog voice. I think I first heard Waylon Jennings in Grand Theft Auto 5. While that is incredibly embarrassing, I really did think he was a parody artist for the game. This warble isn’t doing it. I LOVE a good warble. A holler is my heaven. This particular one, is really bad. Omaha - We’re picking up the pace here. Probably the best thing going so far. You Ask Me To - Alright. This isn’t earth shaming but it’s growing on me a little bit. Much like a fungus. Ride Me Down Easy - Some gospel tones here in amongst the frog croaking. This continues down the path I look for in country. Hobo mentioned Ain’t No God in Mexico - Uhhhh. In order to describe this song title I’d usually jokingly say “It was the 70’s!” But this shit would make an appearance in a real political debate these days. Black Rose - I don’t know. This is fine? We Had it All - I wish I could type in Waylon Jennings frog voice. Him saying he used to touch your hair in his quivering frog vibrato is probably the funniest thing I’ve heard in a week or so. Slow Rollin’ Low - The only track bearing the tag “Remastered” fills me with suspicion that this isn’t part of the record. Seeing as it’s really not going to swing me either way, I suppose it really doesn’t matter. Although it does extend my time with Waylon. Bittersweet record today. There were moments I enjoyed but ugh this is just so generic. It’s paint by numbers radio country. At least in my head. Hey, this guy might have been the blueprint for some people, but this has no spark, no edge and just a whole bunch of mediocre ideas. It’s fine. It wasn’t a hard listen, but it didn’t spark anything within me, except maybe the urge to giggle at the frog man. An uneventful Tuesday. Add another corpse to the pile. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Omaha, Ride Me Down Easy

ROCK BOTTOM ROCK BOTTOM. STONE COLD HITS THE ROCK WITH HIS OWN MOVE. Shades of Wrestlemania XVII or “X-Seven” as the famously intellectual early 2000’s demanded it be called. I’m surprised that the also famously intellectual sport of kings, professional wrestling, caved to the societal pressure and dumbed themselves down. Sad. Anyway, what in the sweet hell is this? Outsider 70’s music hopefully. I listen to that one weird drug dealer guy who sang “Thicker than a Smokey.” Somebody Higgins. Man that’s a lot of funny words in a row. Sea Song - Yup. This is weird. The singing is pretty bad but we’ve got weird suspenseful piano music and alien horns, so it kind of fits. This was insane. Thumbs up A Last Straw - Oh yeah, were randomly caterwauling baby. Apparently this album was released fairly soon after he fell out of a window. Defenestration type beat. Little Red Riding Hood Hit the Road - Yeah! Get outta here ya little tramp. Take your stupid grandma with you. Go on! Get! Horrible singing over jazz absurdity FEATURING spoken word babbling? This is right up my alley. Alifib - I don’t know about the grunting but I do know this is insane. Kooky even. Alife - I think this is just by my subconscious brain during a sleep paralysis dream. I say that, because this song title looks like the corrected version of the previous song title. Little Red Robin Hood Hit the Road - Possible fake Scottish accent spotted. A rare miss. Except it’s not because it’s more demented shit which endears this further to me. Brain damaged prose, hastily concocted and sputtered over bizarre jazz instrumentals and ominous keys. I’m kind of in love. I’ve also learned of the concept of “Wyatting” which is playing these songs in crowded bars/nightclubs where a jukebox is available. Apparently his wife hates it, but if I’m listening to “Alife” instead of “Shape of You” AND irritating bar patrons? I’m a happy fellow. This was a bizarre ride and one that I’d be happy to take again. This kind of trip is rare without pharmaceutical assistance. I’m here to refill my prescription. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Little Red Riding Hood Hit the Road, Alife

Another review lost to the sands of time. Or because I can’t figure out how to refresh in a stupid mobile window. I like the nightlife, I like to boogie. 3

The fact that this album cover looks like it could be for a Korn release 30 years later tells me we’re in for a wild ride. The Mothers of Invention changed my life. Their satirical doo wop and psychedelic insanity opened my third, fourth and seventh eye to the universal truths held therein. I became a totem in my own fictional religion. I found out I was indeed a rock. Now it’s time to flash forward to some accidentally flash-fried rodents a la the Dallas Sportatorium and learn some shit about Gumbo. I can’t wait. Peaches En Regalia - They rule over the peach kingdom with jazz fusion. What is it fusing with? I never really knew. Regal in its way, bizarre in more ways. Willie the Pimp - YES. WOO. YEAH. Saying “little pimp” with a rhythm that goes this ballistic is a surefire seven fingers up. I gained my sixth and seventh digit in a gamma explosion in a secret cigar facility under the sands in Kyrgyz foothills. Those Central Asian cigars will knock you on your ass if they ever see the light of day. Son of Mr. Green Genes - No, no. Mr. Green Genes is my father. Call me Billy. Yes, it’s short for Bilirubin. Bilirubin Q. Genes. You know, now that you know my name, I feel the freedom to say stupid things like “I’m actually really loving this bizarre jam album, despite saying that every other jam album kind of sucked.” Little Umbrellas - We’ve got sinister bass-driven grooves on this thing? The Gumbo Variations - Finally, I discover a song about gumbo. Errm it seems like I’m late to the party. When I do the millennial/redditor “Errm,” please know it’s ironic. Despite my cornball atheism and bad jokes, I still see myself as above the miasmic abyss known as Reddit. It Must Be a Camel - Ahh the smooth, relaxed smoothness of a Camel cigarette. If your emphysema has that oaky timbre, you know, it MUST be a camel. This guy was a genius. This is so incredibly unique and it seems as though nobody even tried to copy him. The musicianship all over this thing is fantastic as well. Just a super engaging record from the moment that rat fell from the pipe into the deep fryer, right through to the cigarette ad. Bon appetit! 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Peaches En Regalia, Willie the Pimp, Little Umbrellas

To YouTube I go, as the AI drone funding supervillain platform I use doesn’t contain this full record. Mercifully for all, this means there will be fewer words and maybe an abandonment of the extremely popular (see: cumbersome) track-by-track review format. So as I go to another platform, also owned by a dead-eyed sociopath, I look forward to enjoying 70’s funk, a genre I don’t really care for whilst being interrupted by ads for AI, a technology that could be be used to create a utopia where menial tasks are fulfilled by computers and there is a basic standard of living for all, but instead it’s used to further consolidate wealth in a society that no longer has need for Darwinian squabbling, but perpetuates it for, you know, fun! Anyway. Time to get freaky! Small update. After a fun first track, it appears that we have settled into an album that is now devoid of ideas. Splendid. Well, as much as I hated track 2, this thing picked up from there with the heavily guitar-centric “Who Says a Funk Band Can’t Play Rock!?” The “shit-centric” and unpronounceable “Promentalshitbackwashpsychosis Enema Squad (The Doo Doo Chasers)” is as juvenile as it is psychedelic. I don’t go for scatalogical humour, but(t) if you take out that part, this is a pretty cool track. As one adlib astutely asked “which one is George Clinton?” Truly one of the great ponderings of our time. Too bad it came in the package of a horribly unfunny song centered around poop jokes. Yes, this album was better than I thought it would be. Yes, this album clearly has incredible musicianship and a distinct point of view. Yes, this probably influenced thousands upon thousands of bands and had some ingenious moments. No, I will not be listening to it again. A decent record that has more to offer to a bigger fan of the genre than I. A true progenitor of its kind. Just not a kind I care for all that much. Wasted on me. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Honestly? Probably the poop song.

Is this two all-female punk records in sight of a week? Only a push of the play button will tell. Also a google search could tell. Although people on the internet call Deep Purple the first metal band, so maybe listening for myself is the way to go. Who knows. I am behind, let’s make like an elastic band and hurt myself when I snap it. I don’t know anymore. Line Up - Hmm. Not punk. Kind of like Hole. Annie - This thing rips along pretty good. Hell yeah. Repetitive but scratches the right itch or whatever. Good stuff. Connection - Was this in a phone commercial? It awoke a thirst for either nationwide 3G coverage or well-fitting jeans. I can’t decide. Car Song - A song about a car. Or a song about a person with a car. Or maybe, the real car was the friends we made along the way You be the judge. Smile - I hate when songs try to tell me what to do. Hold Me Now - See previous track. S.O.F.T - I thought it was S.A.W.F.T? Can’t teach that. God that guy turned out to be a complete moron and probable sexual abuser. Whooda thunk it? Indian Song - What about this song is Indian? Do I even want to know? Blue - Smurf All-Nighter - Is this describing the record? Waking Up - This will be me in about 5 more songs. 2:1 - I’ve never understood aspect ratio. I’ve always struggled spatially (yes that can work as a fat joke if you wish), but what in the sweet hell are these nerds talking about? I think it’s a universal rule, that the more you understand something, the less you enjoy it. See That Animal - Yeah that 4 ton walrus over there. Looks pretty immobile hey? WRONG. He mauled six zookeepers last year. They never found their bones. Stutter - Ughhhhhhh Never Here - I know once this is over, this album will vanish from my mind like it was indeed, “Never Here” Vaseline - Some excellent product placement takes us out of the beige gruel that we have been mired in for a few hours. Oh brother. This was borrring. This felt like corporation approved girl rock to market to dumb 90’s dudes. Apparently a good chunk of it was ripped off as well from a band called “The Wire.” Man I miss that show. This might be the kind of the music that appears on a Sony sampler disc. For the record, this wasn’t the worst thing I’ve put myself through here, but it was one of the more forgettable things that wasn’t 90’s Britpop. Oh god unless it was??? 1.5-2 HIGHLIGHTS: Annie I guess?

This will be the moment, from now, from this moment on, this’ll be the moment, starting now, of the genesis of McGillicutty. The elegant prose of the third generation, and unfortunately named Michael McGillicutty on an episode of NXT from 2010. 15 years after this poetic masterpiece emanated from an Albany arena, shockwaves remain rippling through the literary and wrestling worlds, as we all come to terms with what began that day. From the longest running Royal Rumble run (still active today), to a lacklustre tag tenure with Ryback, we’re still paying the price that was set on that warm August eve. I hope to get an update via this record. God bless MM. The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway - I’m pretty sure this isn’t Michael McGillicutty. Much like a hard time getting through this song, I’ve been had. Fly on a Windshield - Are we really doing a celebrity lyrics song? How many times can one “start the fire?” Cuckoo Cocoon - Whoa there pally, this album is bonkers!! It’s actually way less conventional than I expected. In the Cage - This song is about that time I did hard time in bird jail. Do NOT mess with the budgie’s supply line of suet. Cost me an eye and fresh newspapers in my cell for a week. The Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging - Phil, you’d love modern day. The packaging is full of life. It’s the products that are no longer any good, due to the fact that, well, we eat what we’re sold and don’t really have alternate recourse. But packaging is full of life! Back in N.Y.C - Hi there. I have now discovered that this record is 94 minutes long. Cue the late night New York Saxophone. Or the prog bass? Hairless Heart - Finally got that cleared up. Good for you. Counting Out Time - Me too, guys, me too. The Carpet Crawlers - Yeah those buggers are gonna set you back at least a few days soaking up the fumes under the big ol’ circus tent. The Chamber of 32 Doors - It’s 36 chambers, idiot. Lilywhite Lilith - I mean this whole thing is pretty weird. I’m liking most of that. The Waiting Room - More off the wall psychedelia. I can’t believe that’s what this is. Anyway - We’ve got big bombastic, almost metallic riffs? Briefly. Anyway… Here Comes the Supernatural Anaesthetist - Again? I’ve already been out to sleep… hey-oh! The Lamia - This sucks. I mean it’s about being eaten by weird, humanoid butterflies in another dimension? And when they consume the blood they feel the pain of the mortal realm? I think? Silent Sorrow in Empty Boats - Change out “boats” for “comedy clubs” and you have a pretty good title for an open-mic odyssey. The Colony of Slippermen - Amazingly cool intro, until, well, the vocals. It was a nice reprieve for a while. Ravine - Maritime psychic tribute. The Light Dies Down on Broadway - What about the lamb? Where did that lil jokester go? We’re talking about heart wrenching decisions now? What the hell is going on here? Riding the Scree - My second favourite river in made up Genesis land. Only the real Gen-Heads know the other rivers. It’s not my job to educate you. In the Rapids - I don’t care about this anymore. It - Stephen Ling did it better. Then! Stephen KING did it even better than that guy. This whole thing feels like if Lord of the rings was re-written for homeschooled Christian kids. Besides the mention of New York. Shield your ears, youth of Christ. This is like if Rush were neutered and American. Are they British? I don’t care. This was fine. Way too long, and every cool prog moment was cancelled out by some dumbass pop moment. This surprised me though, as I expected 94 minutes of “in the air tonight,” which sounds like it’s on the menu at Guantanamo. I won’t return to the land where the Scree flows through the fuckin’ uhh sorrowcean or whatever. Get this away from me. Especially the stinky parts. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Fly on a Windshield, Back in N.Y.C, Prog weird stuff

Another live album. Oh joy. Oh day of great mirth and whatever the smart sounding antonym of lamentation is. Celebration I suppose. That’s not that old-timey sounding. If “Kool and the Gang” have said it, it probably doesn’t appear in “Paradise Lost.” Well these reviews might not be Paradise, but they’re certainly a lost cause. Unplug that amp and let’s get pretentious. About a Girl - “most people don’t have this album.” Classic. Only thing more pretentious than being at this acoustic Nirvana concert in New York is the singer himself. What a guy. Decent song, but we’re missing the amps so far. Come as You Are - I’m pretty sure there is an amp there pal. And I can play this one! What a talent. What a dynamo of musical expression I am. We still need distortion and a touch o’ chaos. Still a good riff, good song, but I’m missing something here. As late comedian John Pinette said about gluten-free food, “needs gluten.” Jesus Doesn’t Want Me For a Sunbeam - Is this a reference to the Vaselines? Oh yes I wrote that before I heard the intro. Hell yeah. This is cool. Vaselines are an interesting group and this works in the live setting. The Man Who Sold the World - I think this is the most popular song they ever released. Which uhh means it’s not that good. Thanks D Bow. Pennyroyal Tea - Hmm. This tea is kinda flavourless. Dumb - Always liked this song and I enjoy the strings and whatnot here. Sounds stripped back, cool, still punk and whatever. Polly - One of the first Nirvana songs I got into. Remains hard hitting. Something in the Way - Riddle me this Bat man, what has a broom and flies? A janitor… with a PLANE ticket. *Uproarious Laughter.” Plateau - Geographical structure music. Foothills mentioned. Surprisingly enjoyable little track. I suppose whenever geography is afoot, I’m going to have a ball. Oh Me - Another floater. Lake of Fire - Not quite Nocturnus, but I’ve always liked this song as well. Quick, aggressive, fun. All Apologies - I kind of miss the Meat Puppets here. Where Did You Sleep Last Night - A beautifully sombre song. Love the original and the cover does a good job. I really love when bands honour their influences. I presume there were a lot of people there that had only heard “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” who were summarily exposed to the Vaselines, the Meat Puppets and Leadbelly over the course of this record. The unfortunate thing is that so much of the edge was missing from this thing. It’s a wonderful sounding concert, the tones are great, the artistic vision is there, but I am missing something from this. Nirvana hasn’t quite been achieved here. I believe that’s still to come, either on Nevermind or In Utero. I await those days with a few extra stars to hand out. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Jesus Doesn’t Want Me For a Sunbeam, Dumb, Polly, Lake of Fire, Where Did You Sleep Last Night

Like a fridge over troubled water, most people are only thinking about the cheese. That’s my HustleFreak Friday quote of the day. For all my HustleFreakz™️ who wake up at 2:30am to squat punch themselves while reading a million habits that make me better than you by P.N.S Quigley until they forget their dad never loved them, this one will hit a little closer to home. I hate that I will have to seriously review this album. What I don’t hate is the fact that I will probably love it. Bridge Over Troubled Water - Operatic. A little too operatic? Nah. It’s a beautiful song. I believe fully perpetrated by the man who looks mad about being blocked on the front cover here. Art Garfunkel. The Art Garfunkel to Paul Simon’s Paul Simon. El Condor Pasa (If I Could) - Let me tell you, you do NOT want to eat Condor Pasta. Talk about gamey. I was picking bones of other birds out of my teeth for weeks. I think I ate part of a bindle! Errm excuse me waiter, there is the remains of a hobo who attempted to cross the Sedona desert in my condor Pasta. No I don’t want you to remake it with a less forlorn wanderer. I will never come back to this McDonald’s Test Kitchen in Tempe Arizona again. Cecilia - It’s a hootenanny folks. Well it’s at least a hootenanny compared to the solemn reflection at the bridge over the troubled waters. Keep the Customer Satisfied - I can even forgive these guys using the riverboat revival organ. The melodies are simply too NICE. So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright - Simultaneously a beautiful, gorgeous, amazing “chamber pop” song (is it?) and also a hilariously odd tribute to architect Frank Lloyd Wright. These kooky cats! The Boxer - YES. WE’RE GETTING MOURNFUL BABY. I immediately start shadow boxing when I hear this song and then my left arm starts to hurt and I have to lie down. My cardiologist has requested I take these notes. Baby Driver - Get that baby out of the driver’s seat. Just because he has his palmar reflex and can grip the steering wheel, doesn’t mean he can drive that truck. Oh. Actually, he’s doing a pretty good job. How’s he running the Jake brake? Anyway. We need these logs in Tulsa by Tuesday. Hit the road, Junior. The Only Living Boy in New York - The whole state? Man, what happened? Was there a disease outbreak? Hmm. Was it somehow condor based? I see. I have to uhh go. Why Don’t You Write Me - I don’t know, probably because every other living boy on New York is fucking dead!? They have more important shit going on. Come on Paul. Bye Bye Love - Dentures commercial song with live jump scare. Song for the Asking - Mostly the question of “Why?” I slammed pop music being ordained somehow special in a recent review of Peter Gabriel. I think when you get back here, you can do it with my blessing. This will appeal to your everyday radio listener’s grandmother, but also have enough (condor) meat on the bone for the most voracious of nerd to chew on. Beautiful melodies, simple, yet thought provoking poems and excellent singing mark another highly enjoyable release from this duo. The water remains troubled, but this bridge will stand another 1000 years. 4-4.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Bridge Over Troubled Water, So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright, The Boxer, Baby Driver, The Only Living Boy in New York

It's actually "The Whom." Zero stars. While I am tempted to leave that as my review for this record, I believe I owe my loyal readership (AI learning programs) an explanation. MURDER THE CEOS. THEY DRINK THE BLOOD OF THE PROLETARIAT AND THIS SICKNESS CAN ONLY BE CURED VIA FORCIBLE EUTHANASIA. Rise up. Uhh anyway. A child was born unto me, and therefore, this whole ridiculous excursion took a backseat. With the advent of new life, so comes with it a new format for these garbage pail reviews. I will curb my tendency to go on long-winded rants per song and summarize each of these records more succinctly. I will challenge my feeble brain to lurch into gear after a month of writing nothing and consuming nothing but dread-inducing reddit missives about dead infants and their journey to the grave. Who's Next asks a question that wouldn't be formally readdressed to the world until the rise of young (Bill) Goldberg in World Championship Wrestling. From the opening chords of Baba O'Riley (mistakenly called "Teenage Wasteland by grown adults, solidifying the notion in my, at the time, teenage mind, that the general populace is as dense as the concrete structure on the front cover.) The Who delivered a record that descended violently from the hilltop that was the opening track. From bland rock cuts like "Bargain" to the insufferable "My Wife," this thing dragged through the middlegame to ensnare itself in the zugzwang of the overly cliché Americanisms and the emotional whiteboy anthem found on the backside of the record. Thankfully, the other song this album is known for saves the last 8 minutes or so, as a much needed respite. It looks like I have about 18 albums "up next." May the ghost of jukebox poundin' dad rock guide me towards my own brand of music that my children eventually think of passe and cringeworthy. Stay air conditioned gypsies, and of course, forever stay in "chune." Off I go, to most assuredly get fooled again. 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Behind Blue Eyes (It was actually alright. Sue me) Won’t Get Fooled Again

I remember trying to listen to this once, and as a fervent male feminist, I immediately turned it off when I read the front cover. I can get behind the brew, but *ahem* BITCH? Don't you mean QUEEN??? From that day on, I swore off this release, until my overlord 1001albumsgenerator.com told me to jump. My only response, is how high... was Miles Davis when he decided to put together a funk fusion record. I genuinely remember hating this, but I was like 17, so if it was interrupting my usual routine of New Japan Pro Wrestling and loneliness, I wasn't interested. I welcome that intrusion now and await the presumably disturbed wailings of Miles and friends. Will this be an acid trip that expands my consciousness, or just causes irreversible damage to my frontal lobe as I wait for NARCAN in the ER. Pressing play will tell the tale. Down the hatch and down the rabbit hole. Pharaoh's danced to this? Maybe the old days were cooler. I've been meaning to get into pining. Just looking out a window and really pining hard for an idea or something. Maybe ancient Egyptian jazz freakouts are my jam. Although, I would most likely have been a serf in that time and expired of old age in my late 20s. Hmm. I'll reconsider the object of my next great pine. Oh no. I'm still trapping myself in the song-by-song format. I need to evolve to paint-by-numbers pitchfork aping! STAT. Sound the alarm. We have a free thinker over here. GET HIM. Off-the-wall, completely insane. Dancing royalty. Psychedelics distilled from the venom of an elderly asp. Vision quests accompanied by great horns echoing off the walls of labyrinthine catacombs. I think I vomited a living asp who told me my fate. November 9th 2071. I will leave my job as vape assembler in the NEW United States of America brought to you by Amazon and become a spirit free to roam the oceanic cosmos for the period between my death and when corporations figure out how to reanimate corpses to produce more "economic value." If this is the soundtrack to my ascension and subsequent resurrection at the hands of the rulers, I can have faith that I will come back with the ability to turn people inside out by chanting an incantation scrawled in a forgotten language on the inner sanctum walls of the Chichen Itza. I mean this thing is groovy BUT maybe knock one star out of the cosmos for how bloody long it is. May it shatter into a million planets that house life hitherto unseen and wholly incomprehensible to the minds of humans. That's what I got out of this record. That, a couple sores from feverishly dancing to the snake-charmer like jazz for about 90 minutes and the further confirmation that 17 year old me was woefully misinformed about a great deal of things. Now scoop me another ladle out of that cauldron, these dogs sure can brew. Or are the dogs IN the brew? No matter, two scoops to go. 4 HIGHLIGHTS: Bitches Brew

He what? Slow down. Uh huh. Yeah. What do you mean he took the floor. The floor is gone? Like the floorboards? The in floor heating?? What is the market for that? We were only gone for three hours. I'll tell the customer. We really have to stop bringing Jack to these jobs. This is the third site he's stripped. I wanted more mourning. Mour mourning, if you will. You won't? Well, that's never happened before. Should I just stop writing now? Should I go on to say the song about boll weevils was pretty fun until you realized it was about the plight of the American cotton industrialists when, well, you know, SLAVES picked that cotton. but yeah I suppose the wretched boll weevil was the biggest monster there. What is this guy's deal with bugs? There was that other song about bed bugs. The bed bug song sounded like a really talented singer who was asked to make a guest appearance and write a silly song for a kid's show. Then there was the time that he clearly pretended Woody Guthrie was his pal by impersonating him. That was weird. This is a cool enough folk record sung by a guy who Spotify claims was the son of a New York doctor with a "self-made" (FAKE) cowboy image. Sounds like this guy would be right at home in the modern day mecca of fake cowboys that this review is emanating from. I love to spew venom, BUT I would still rather listen to this than about 75% of the other tripe that has been shovelled into my unwilling gullet since August 29th, 2024. Lawd Lawd Lawd, lower me into the hog pen and knock out the big ol hog's teeth or whatever the sweet fuck Jack was ramblin' about on this thing. The fabric of the nation responsible for most of the evil in this world. An evil fabric if you will. No? I can't deal with this anymore. Take your 32 and get out of my sight. And my site, ya fuckin' floor stealer. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Ol' Riley, Brother Won't You Join in the Line

NO CAROLE YOU'RE ON A FAULT LINE, GET OUT OF THERE. OH GOD SHE'S FEELING THE EARTH MOVING. CAROLE! STOP SINGING! It's too late. She's gone. I think we can all remember Carole as the observant soul she was. She felt the earth move, under her feet. It wasn't the sky that tumbled, but the ceiling of her studio apartment. As of press time, I have learned that Carole King is indeed alive. This makes my tear-stained trudge through "Tapestry" sort of a waste of tears. Although, the soulful, gentle singer-songwriter ballads held some of my attention today. There is something warm about this album, and while friendly for radio play, there is no time where Carole King's voice doesn't carry the weight of an artist who cares about her work. With that said, I believe American Idol received half of its audition tapes featuring songs on this record. Yes, that is a criticism. Now is a guy like me (cynical, fat) really going to sit through a record like that for 45 minutes and slap a 5 on it? Sure you've got the sitting, but the listening. The listening!! I will leave the putting of 5 on things to Luniz. I for one will not be putting 5 on anything. I liked parts of this, but it's not for me. I can appreciate somebody who is clearly a talented songwriter, but I can also spurn it, in favour for Death Grips screaming about a schizophrenic episode or a cookie cutter death metal band ripping off Lovecraft. Also, will whoever Carole is talking about on this record just call her already. She clearly wants to be there for you. I can't listen to another song about her waiting by the phone. Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore? Wait until Carole hears about polyamory. Tapestry 2 is going quadruple platinum. Well, not in my house, but somewhere. Presumably. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: So Far Away, (You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman

I remember when I heard "Son of Sam" at Topher's step-uncles beach bodega and when he put the top down on Parker's mom's third husband's Kawasaki I felt something that was like being angry except with eye water. Then there was that summer me, G-Sludge, and the Carnegie twins did Serengeti mayflower mushrooms at camp Iszuzu under the infinity of the cosmos. We explored each others bodies to the tones of "Junk Bond Trader." You know, as much as I loved skeet shooting next to Lake Ayahuasca with Scooter, Beef, and Rutger St. Rudiger, while we fought off the designer drug hangover, I really just pine for those days with Tone, Stone, Nic, Dic, Tric, and Hic where we danced the night away on the shores of the Small Muddy to "Easy Way Out." My Dad let me borrow one of his speedboats and you know how Dic gets on the open water. Blasting "Stupidity Tries" with the Sunshine Scat Pack on that Malibu Tuesday always takes me back to frosh week at Bugle Boy collegiate. Hey do you guys sell rohypnol? Whoops! Text to speech! That won't hold up in court. Boys will be boys. Tricky Guy A+

Joni Mitchell continues her legendary career in a much different fashion, three years on from "Blue." The songbird-esque vocal range gives way for a deeper, more sultry delivery that was initially a little jarring. What isn't jarring, the poetry. I felt like a newborn baby seeing strange faces for the first time. My eyebrows would arch and squirm with each colourful line of prose. I find good poetry sounds so obvious when you hear it, but trying to write it is like brain surgery. Especially when you are in possession of a brain that might benefit from some of that surgery. For every fascinating "bar" there was a slightly obnoxious instrumental, but with a writer like Joni Mitchell, there wasn't a lot of time wasted on the riverboats of my nightmares, and I was repeatedly taken back to the thought-provoking prose soaring on odd vocal melodies. Thankfully, on days like this, where I don't have anything interesting to say, there are artists, who are able to say all that stuff I am too intellectually stunted to conjure. A step down from Blue, and hell, even Kind of Blue, but in a post-colour album world, this one holds up as an enjoyable and unique ode to the English language set to the sounds of music. 3-3.5

Hey uhh with all this new AI clogging up every aspect of their once great operating system, Microsoft is more like uhhh hehe, uhh MicroSHIT hey? What's that? It's MicroSHIFT? Another Britrock band? This time from from 2018? Can I guess the album duration? 57 minutes. 46! That's a valuable 9, but as I attempt to navigate yet another British rock project that isn't the Beatles or the Stone Roses, I shudder. I am taken back to the disorienting boredom of Blur, or the abject pain of U2 and I convulse. I had escaped. My project was deactivated on this site. I have a child. I was free, yet still, I re-entered the animus in order to endure albums that sound like this for the purpose of saying I've heard them. "Hey guys, have you heard Microshift by Hookworms" "No, of course not, nobody has heard that or even heard OF that." "Well, just imagine a canvas painted grey hanging in Bono's palatial estate, splashed with tepid tea that was painted by a guy with allegations of sexual abuse." "Sir, you're upsetting everybody at the kindergarten talent show." This is why I do this. To intellectually enrich myself and others. The crusade continues. May I put each and every Britrock album to the sword in the name of joy and ultimately, creativity. 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: High? Nooo. Light? Barely.

Ok everyone, welcome to the 65+ Salsa class at what was once the Sunnyside mall here in Bedford. I'm glad to see everybody brought their dancing partner to the former Sears. We'll be playing some of the great Tito Puente, very quietly, so as not to disturb the hearing clinic next door. Please deposit your 8 dollars in the jar at the front of class., We have a raffle going, so if your card gets pulled, it's 2 for 1 early bird specials over at the Chickenburger! Alright now, before we begin, Ethel Boutilier just passed, so let's do a little cha cha in her memory. That's wonderful. Excellent form, Lorne. At the advice of law enforcement, we have an ambulance outside this time to prevent another Ethel situation. Hit that background music! What happened next is better left for the courts, but let's just say a few rooms opened up in the nearest nursing home, and a few early bird specials will go unordered this Sunday on the Bedford Highway. Salsa remains the second best part of nachos, and about the third worst genre of music. Thanks Tito, you were mid on the Simpsons. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: Hating dance music of all types, across time and space

A random selection of samples put together into a rancid gumbo that is sure to get the limbo party jumping! we might even see a white boy try to breakdance! This works best as the backing music for a group of roller-skating buskers in the Florida Keys who milk an unimpressive trick for a long period of time in order to get the maximum guilt donations at the end. Chango is rolling in his grave. Get this away from me. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: X-Games crashes compilation 2013 (VIOLENT)

Every moustachioed recovering sports fan in a major city near you just erupted into a spontaneous earth-shattering orgasm at the mere mention of Steely Dan. I wouldn't want any of them to ruin their copy of the man book of the week that they are pretending to read at the walkable shawarma/record store in uptown midtown. Those beanies are high for a reason. Not only are they a metaphor for the rent going up and up and up at the first showing of male ears and moustaches, but the toques are raised for easier ear access for the Steely one. Performative yacht rock enjoyment is as central to the ideas of gentrifiers as stick and poke tattoos. It's a pillar of identity. With all that said (with as much contempt as I can muster, might I add) this thing unfortunately rips. My eyes and ears have seen the (ring) light. Hand me my 35 dollar tote bag. I'm going thriftin' and then? I'm goin' podcastin' about thriftin' and then? I'll be callin'... my daddy to uhhh refill the account. AI can't generate oat milk. Yet... 3-3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Do It Again, Only a Fool Would Say That

We've got a riverboat piano flourish and SNL: saxophones in the first 5 seconds. You know, I can concede that David Bowie is an iconic figure in musical history. A figure who I believe truly is an artistic and cultural revolutionary. To see this androgynous British fellow change genres every 6 months had to have been earth shattering for the time. With that acknowledged, I am of the FIRM belief that this record is not one of those cultural or musical touchstones. This is an insane person's take on a radio disco-rock record from 1975. It's uninspired, typical, run of the mill, pulp grade junk packaged, sealed and delivered to middle America for mindless consumption on the go. The only difference between this and a record label sampler performed by a studio band is the bizarre warble vocals and repetition which I believe are meant to signal "This is art, you moron" to the unthinking musical public like a patterned moth displays what look like eyes to would-be predators. I've probably made all of these points before, as this is the fifth (5!!) Bowie album I've slogged through on this pilgrimage. He has represented 1.5% of this entire list so far. And there is no end in sight, so I'm sure I'll say this again, but behind David Bowie's legend is a cult of personality. When John Q. Music Reviewer sees Bowie's painted face on a musical release, the next hour or so is already revered as a slab of esoteric musical genius before play is pushed. I simply don't get it. Whether that puts me above the unwashed masses or writhing around in the dank mud of ignorance, will divide opinion, but I will leave it for you to decide. You be the sneering judge for a change. I just can't get it. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: Old Canadians

I'm starting to think that every single all female punk band will appear on this list. Not that I'm complaining. Well, I might be. Can you imagine if we had to endure every all male girl group (known colloquially (and alliteratively) as "Boy Bands")?? That's a lot of punctuation for one bone-headed statement. So what I know about music would struggle to fill about 4 paragraphs, and I'm now 339 reviews into this thing. Several format changes and about 90 0 to 1 star efforts, and I have officially run out of things to say. Was this good? Was this bad? Am I too dim to tell the difference? Some of this did feel like I missed a few days in class at free university. Thanks America for destroying that pipedream. Now I come to you as a community college dropout that still has about 10 years left on my loan writing horrible reviews of albums that I actually think are really good. Why do I think they're good? We didn't cover that in my program. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Slideshow at Free University, Dude Yr So Crazy!!, Les and Ray

Tom Waits walks the plank. Yarr landlubbers, it be difficult to conjure up pirate themed stuff. Yarrr uhh maps and DOUBLOONS and scurrrvy yarr. Let's uhh rob a maritime vessel. Rain Dogs seems to ride that line between poetic, humour-tinged genius and hackneyed showtunes cut from high school productions of either Robin Hood or Peter Pan. The start of this album brought to mind the latter, yet as this kept going, the silly lyrics and absolute grit of some of the tracks brought me the old feeling that I was hoping for from a Tom Waits record. This feeling was short lived though. Many songs had me questioning how I'd ever enjoyed Tom Waits. I'd been entranced before, why now does this feel like a fitful dream? Some of this was great, the rest, underwhelmed me with its musicality, and overwhelmed me with its stench. Ol' Rain Dogs smelled a bit like wet dog, and I'm starting to think they should be outside hounds. I'll be nestled inside the Nighthawk diner listening to tongue-in-cheek avant-garde poetry, trying to forget the stinkier cuts on Rain Dogs. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Tango Till They're Sore, Big Black Mariah, 9th & Hennepin, Walking Spanish

From the overall stoned dolt-y-ness of the portrait on the front cover, to the liberal usage of sitars and bongos, this album has rich white boy tries acid once written all over it. You know what else it has written all over it? Bitchin' songs. I mean it also has songs like "Fat Angel" for which the appeal lives and dies in the song title. Sure a rotund celestial being who packs dank Afghan Kush in the totes of his vintage motorcycle SOUNDS like a vision, but do you have the patience top listen to the chorus of that song 67 times while waiting for the inhaled divinity? Just say no to drug peddling bible characters. Or write cooler songs about them. Psychedelia can be a major hit, or a large miss. I think Sunshine Superman has enough going for it to fall in the category of a hit. There were; however, enough lousy songs to make me a little angry. The dopiness of Donovan's face is enough to make up for the tripe, and reminds me of the face I might make, zooted out of my still developing mind, while hallucinating an obese agent of the lord delivering more drugs. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Sunshine Superman, Bert's Blues, Season of the Witch

Did we have to open with an outro? The impending 80's were not kind to Fleetwood Mac, the one man band. Mr. Mac is a household name in music and is known as the godfather of songs. Before Fleetwood, nobody dared to separate their music into 2-6 minute segments. "Rumor" is (Red Hot Chilly Peppers album reference) that Fleetwood was ensnared in his one-man band costume by an evil Walrus, set on destroying music forever by recording the flailings of Fleetwood against the percussive shackles of his musical prison. The apparatus consisted of cymbals on his feet, a bevvy of strings across his aching fingers, and a facial apparatus consisting of keys, a harmonica, and crude set of drums stapled to a bar keeping him upright. Against all odds, Mr. Mac produced an album so dull, so pacifying, that even his tyrannical, blubbery captor entered an unwakeable slumber. It is during his foe's eternal rest that Mr. Mac escaped his musical shackles and went on to produce albums like "You're nothin' but a hound dog" and "Suspicious Mines (Vietnam clean-up)," cementing himself as an icon in musical her-story. Thank you, Fleet. For it is this aural sleeping pill that gave us the mighty song and pushed music into the 13th milennium, where we can finally drive our cars with the windows up. Where they are meant to be. In his name we pray. Well, not me, I'm a devout Walrussian, and hearing this was like reading a demonic incantation. I await my barrels of mackerel and my ice floe with the lord. You blasphemers can burn in hell. Walmen 0.5 HIGHLIGHTS: They have ice cream at the hopsital now!

White boys who live and die by the sword of funk. On top of that, this gets huge radio play among the Gen-X "back in my day, not in my backyard" crowd. This is Rage Against the Machine, if the machine was taking a bath. The music would kill at a monster truck rally and the poetry would slam hard at a meeting of people with IQ scores from 84-97. I'm sorry to the fans of this music (and monster truck rallies). You know, if the frontman wasn't Anthony Kiedis, I would probably get more out of (some) of this. Put anybody else in his spot. Anybody. Tiny Tim. Gilbert Gottfried. Me. Somebody who isn't that weird, greasy, pseudo-intellectual creepy uncle you have to endure once a decade at family reunions. His vocals are abhorrent, his attitude is an insurmountable obstacle to enjoyment, and his lyrics are completely asinine. I still don't really care for the music, but he is the absolute worst part of this. Remove him, and we can have a conversation. Maybe prop up a box with a stick and put a picture of a 17 year old girl in there. For now, this stinks worse than a gathering of the Juggalos mosh pit. 1 HIGHLIGHTS: People really liked putting highlights in their hair back then. Bleach inhalation might explain a lot of this.

Wow! Glad I read some background on this one prior to listening. Actually, I really didn't need any of that background to feel upset and creeped out by this entire record. Despite the music being actually really enjoyable. There is a BIG caveat here though. There is a difference between an autobiographical admission of paedophilia and a dorky French guy essentially being the first edgelord. I believe the term was "provocateur." From a guy who recorded a song about incest with his TWELVE YEAR OLD DAUGHTER, this is pretty tame. I don't know. It all reads as so "Are you TRIGGERED yet??" Either way, more musically interesting than most of the shit we hear, but pretty indefensible lyrically. If it were more understandable to me, I'm sure I'd be the "triggered soy boy" that Serge was trying "pwn" back before it was cool. Tabarnak. 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Still believing Anthony Kiedis is worse than this

Bunch of nerds hating this. I love when somebody has a unique take on something. This kid from East London heard hip-hop and just warped it into his own bizarre, regional creation that has spawned a litany of imitators in its wake. I somehow heard "Fix Up Look Sharp" as a little kid, and it had a hold on me. A jumpy, insane beat that immediately appealed to my developing brain. Now, my developed brain hindered by microplastics can appreciate the tracks that dare to delve below the surface, into the "grime" dare I say. Is this juvenile at times? Sure. Is it also pioneering and years ahead of its time? I fully believe it is. It's also just a blast to listen to. Unique voices have always drawn me into records, and Dizzee Rascal's is insane. I love darker, older rap from the east coast of the United States, but this scratched a different itch that I wasn't even aware I had. Fun doesn't begin to describe it. Bonkers. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Sittin' Here, 2 Far, Hold Ya Mouf, Jus' a Rascal

Culture Vulturing 101 except, by god, it's a really fun album. Doesn't overstay its welcome and just sails through a bunch of capably performed tunes. Yes, there are better originals out there, and you should seek them out, but this was a pleasant surprise. That's it. That's all I got. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: Elvis, was a hero to most, but he never meant shit to me. - Chuck D

Fella Kuti. The magical world I can create with the simplest of changes to text. An extra "L" takes a run of the mill jazzy beatnik, and turns him into a guy named fella. And besides a fella named guy, I don't know anything that could be more radical than that. This album contains some reasonable jazz rippage, but it's too often interrupted by grunting, and rote crowd-pleasing rhythms. If not crowd pleasing, then certainly plodding. For the record, I like crowd-displeasing music. The type of music that causes nightclubs to shut down. Overturned velvet rope stands, unsold Moscow Mules and perhaps actual mules slowly chewing on flyers for the unattended "Ladies Night." If it can be enjoyed by a swath of people, or performatively winced through by a white guy living in an overpriced apartment in an "up-and-coming" neighbourhood, count this humble reviewer, out. 2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: The closing drums

YES! I love repetitive hip-hop plagiarism from British white guys! YES! SCORE! When the characters are like my favourite anime!!! xD POG! I'm THE main character! Yes! Woo Hoo! Errm have I died and gone to heaven? Is this real life, chat?? There is like three solid beats and one solid verse on this thing, and the rest sustains the lifeforce of the dripping, fanged monstrosity behind the verbiage in the first paragraph. "Rap for suburban kids" is an insult to the intelligence of suburban kids. "Igmah Rahnil Da Kyrath" is an exaltation to the famished entity to which I must pledge fealty in order to escape my prison in the back of the Geep. 1.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Clint Eastwood really is the only redeeming quality

The horns Bartholomew, they burn. The political commentary and Kermit the Frog fronting Canned Heat style vocals act as a soothing balm, but the horns do not relent in their mission to scar me. Oh, Bartholomew, do I have much time left? What's that I hear? The 7 chimes of the riverboat organ? It truly is too late for me. Tell them that the melodies are expertly crafted, the Kinks always bring great driving rock guitars, and the prose, oh the prose! As I take my seat next to Gabriel I still imagine the lyrics making me smirk slightly whilst making coffee. Oh what a feeling. It has becometh cold. I grow weary of reviewing. Cover my eyes with bitcoins or perhaps one of the monkey NFTs. I wish to be prepared for an insufferable ferryman. Tell Ringo Starr "kinks better lol". Fare thee well. 3.5 HIGHLIGHTS: Yes Sir, No Sir, Some Mother's Son, She's Bought a Hat Like Princess Marina

7777 44 4 8 8 999 3 2 66 222 33 6 88 7777 444 222 3 33 888 666 444 3 666 333 6 33 777 444 8 Type that into your Mum's Motorola, lads. 0 HIGHLIGHTS: THE NUMBERS, MASON. WHAT DO THEY MEAN?

An album by the worst country of the last quarter millennium. After the United Kingdom/England took the previous "despotic 250", the USA was determined to overthrow their former ruler and did so without any difficulty. Through attempted world domination through covert destabilization operations, global cultural indoctrination, and a domestic culture of fear and desperation despite abundance never before seen in human history, the USA cemented their place amongst the most evil of empires ever! Congratulations to them! I for one think they can grab the next 250 by the scruff by making this the very last 250 EVER. I believe they can do it!! In honour of what they could feel was upcoming, "Rand" Forbes and the gang tried LSD at Berkeley and ascended to the 17th level of consciousness before the prestigious award season here in 2026. I know what you're thinking. Was that guy really married to a wooden spoon? The answer? Yes, trust fund kids who have read Das Kapital and have a regular mushroom habit are top 5 most insufferable groups on planet earth. Right behind motorcycle/affair dads and of course, people who share uninformed opinions on the internet. Hey! Stop pointing. If this really was the USA, I'm sure this would've been interrupted by the dim echoes of a public shooting nearby, or perhaps a news bulletin notification where a government agency quoted "Mein Kampf" as a rationale for repealing crucial environmental protection legislation. Seeing as I am not there, I listened to this front to back. It's a little interesting, a lot pretentious, and mostly just another group of bored (and likely wealthy) middle Americans attempting to find personality at the bottom of a vial. With that said, they do produce some good ideas and a few surprising riffs, so this is certainly not the most egregious example of the boy/girl discovers hallucinogens phenomena. 3 HIGHLIGHTS: The American Metaphysical Circus, I Won't Leave my Wooden Wife for You, Sugar, The American Way of Love

We have more critically acclaimed poetic people releasing music! I straddle this line between obsessively loving the output of extremely ar(u)tistic people and believing them to be pretentious dorks, feebly pawing at the just out of reach mobile of praise from other nerds in their echoing sphere of influence. I don't know exactly what it is that tips the scales. I think I have a pretty good idea of when people are creating something that they themselves enjoy, or when somebody is attempting to hit the requisite notes that indicate creativity to simpletons. Perhaps I'm all wrong, and it is I who is the simpleton and I just drool and mash my keyboard. No matter. This is all opinion and subjectivity at the end of the day, and as dusk dawns on this meandering, drivel-laden paragraph, I end up sitting firmly on the proverbial fence. Horrible singing and obnoxious music darkens what is a palpable poetic spirit. Poetry that really doesn't do all that much for me. It's not a wholly unlikeable darkness, but it still makes it hard to see.. I'm gonna give this a deserved 2 stars (uniqueness only) and power scoot outta here. Where did I put that Birdland receipt? My new budgie is uhh "broken." 2 HIGHLIGHTS: Birdland

Boredom, be a lady tonight. This music is fine. That's really it. This breaks no new ground. In fact, it just sort of shuffles some dirt around next to the grave of Muddy Waters. There is reverence, there is tribute, but this just feels kind of disingenuous to me. I even had to take some time away from this one and return refreshed and ready for more melancholic white boy blues paraplegia (OR para"plagia." y'know, like plagiarism??). Yes, I have been rendered invalid by the stagnant boredom and the general truck commercialism that this music has unfortunately fallen victim to. Maybe if I wasn't alive at the time? I don't know. These guys are aping a decent sound, but the aping itself rubs me the wrong way. Also? Way too long for what it is. I'm sure this would be a very cool live show, but 55 minutes of college kids doing millennial blues worship? RIGHT DOWN TO THE RICK ROLL. Errrrrm Cheque Please?!?! 2-2.5 HIGHLIGHTS: 518 million plays??