Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Is It Me or Does Everything Suck Balls?

Is it me? Is it? Or has the stuff released so far this year just been awful? There are a few bright spots here and there but for the most part, things are just flat-out unimpressive. I know I need to start getting out reviews in a more timely and relevant fashion, but I don't want to even give these pieces o' feces full reviews, they don't even deserve that. 

Submitted for your dis-a-fucking-proval:

1) Animal Collective, 'Merriweather Post Pavilion': Like poorly made mashed potatoes, there are undercooked lumps interrupted by a vast mushy over-salted nothing. None of this means anything, it's just a bunch of noise and crap and the sounds of noisy people taking aural craps all over the place. I hate it. It reminds me of modern art: everyone pretends to like it, but see how fast they sign up for a trip to MoMA. Not very fucking fast, I'd say. What shit.

2) Andrew Bird, 'Noble Beast': Beastly. Boring. Pretentious. I liked his last album, but this is too much. You can tell this guy just has Wikipedia open the entire time he's writing songs. Come on, guy. Not since the Decemberists has someone waddled into this kind of absolute and total self-important mullarkey. That's right, youngsters, MULLARKEY. You're full of shit, guy. 

3) Glasvegas: Had to say it again. You're now on the list with Grizzly Bear. You owe me $9.99 for buying this shitshow. I should sooner have smeared shit on my ears and punched myself in the face than listen to this. 

4) Mostly Bears, 'The Ed Mitchell Clinic': Mostly bears? Mostly shit. 

5) Beirut, 'March of the Zapotec': It's Beirut, alright. Beirut in the '80s. 

6) Bruce Springsteen, 'Working On A Dream': So I don't like it that much. Bruce gets a pass if he puts out an album of polka classics set to the tune of bears eating their young. Bruce rules. See the Super Bowl, his life, and everyone else's lack of balls compared to him. Ask me how many times I will link to him sliding his bawwwwls into that camera. Many times. 

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