Best Coast - Crazy For You

So this is Best Coast's first album I guess. I'm assuming they're from California (meaning that if I'm right, they are extremely predictable and if I'm wrong they are terrible for trying to sound like they're from California. I guess my point is that California fucking sucks).

My first thought is: Woman Beach Boys. There are many things wrong with that. I'm not going to say that women shouldn't be making music- some of them are okay at it. That's not my problem. My problem is that they're trying to sound like some Beach Boys shit. Would that make them The Beach Girls? Because that would be fucking STUPID.

My second thought: Woman Beach Boys in a cave. This is the most retarded reverb I have ever heard in my entire life. I feel like I'm in one of those big bathrooms at a beach, shitting, with this band playing a hundred yards away, and it's echoing all over the place in the bathroom to the point where it's this giant clusterfuck of sound. Shoegaze surf rock? Fuck this.

It's also worth noting that the entire album concluded in the time it took me to write those 3 paragraphs. This album is like 15 minutes long goddamn. I barely even remember anything about it other than it opening with a real echoey cover of that Avril Lavigne song that came out a couple years ago. Also, 2 songs rhyme "crazy" with "lazy." Whether this is intentional or not I have yet to determine.

Bottom line is: for a similar (if slightly better) experience, try listening to a Beach Boys album with the pitch shifted up, using one of those soundcard control fuckers that lets you make everything sound like it's being played inside a drippy cave.

Final score:
5.1/10

Buncen Bern Interview

I'm gonna say what nobody else has the guts to say: Aspie Lispen was talentless. "How could you?" is the sort of response I expect from this. But really, think about it. Aspie never pushed himself in any direction other than twee, was horrible at singing, wasn't especially talented at any instrument, and was just overall a terrible musician. Why Cameron Clarke is so obsessed with this mans work is beyond me, but I'll tell you something else: Buncen Bern and Ricky Martini were the real brains behind Tall Building. Sure, the songs Aspie wrote for the albums are catchy, but which ones will we REALLY remember in ten, twenty years? CD Players, Escape, Scurvy, Alien Abduction, Bunny Rabbits. Can you even remember the melody to My Cat Ran Away? I'm serious, try to hum it. I'll bet you can't. That's because there was nothing original or interesting about it.

Cameron Clarke recently posted an article about his trip to the Lispen household. He mentioned trying to get ahold of Ricky Martini and Buncen Bern, but he never did. Do you think there's a possibility that he didn't want to hear what these men had to say about the whole matter? I do. Cameron Clarke is completely obsessed. It's not even about the music anymore, he's built a false image of how Lispen was inside his mind and he will ignore anybody who points this out. Gertrude Lispen was obviously a lonely old woman, willing to take advantage of Clarkes' obsession for a nice fucking. Yes, Clarke only told half of the story. Actually you couldn't even say that, it was too fucked up. He made no attempt to interview the other living members of Tall Building, so you know what?

I will.

Included with the physical copies of For the Love of God Please Listen to This Album (handmade by Bern himself) is a booklet containing images of Buncen Bern in a Chester Cheetah costume, some paintings made by his college girlfriend, a lock of his hair, and some contact information. I sent him an email, asking him to meet up with me for an interview. He liked the idea. We met at the bluebird cafe on one cloudy day to discuss matters Tall Building and post-Tall Building.

CMFCG: First, I'd like to thank you for taking the time to do this interview.

BB: It's my fantasy.

CMFCG: Let's talk about For the Love of God. After faking your own death, did you immediately start work on this one?

BB: No, I was too depressed to create for a while there. Feeling my musical career was over right then and there, I actually considered real death a few times. I got so down I visited old Gertrude
Lispen one night, knowing she would fuck anybody.

CMFCG: Did you fuck?

BB: Yes. Anyways, about a month or so after I faked my death I got myself together and began making trips to the studio. I was still really hooked on drugs though, so I didn't get much done at first. I sobered up a little and began writing my best songs to date. Oh the Memories Pt. 2 is sort of about the pain I went through while overcoming my drug addiction.

CMFCG: Really?

BB: Well it was written while I was getting off them.

CMFCG: I see. Are all the songs on the album autobiographical?

BB: Yes, my great grand-pappy Ronald D. Bern marched out of the hospital he was staying in to promote gay awareness. A giant crowd formed and people marched with him and for that whole year, you could do whatever you wanted sexually. Then everybody returned to normal life and became homophobes again.

CMFCG: How come I've never read about this anywhere?

BB: I don't know.

CMFCG: What do you have to say about the death of Aspie Lispen?

BB: I was only friends with him so I could be around his hot, hot mother.

And that's all we have for now. You needed to hear the truth behind it all, and I'm glad you did. Check out Buncen Berns new album here: http://buncenbern.bandcamp.com/album/for-the-love-of-god-listen-to-this-album

TALL BUILDING SCANDAL REVEALED! + LOST ASPIE ALBUM

Hello! I know I haven't posted anything here in a while, and there's a good ass reason- you see, recently I made the trip to WA to track down Ricky Martini and ask him what he thought of Aspie Lispen's final album, Goodbye, My Friends!, and its new-found status as classic album and masterpiece of modern indie folk. But instead of an interview, what I got was a look at the darkest side of the indie universe (or "indieverse") there is.

I arrived at the airport and was immediately greeted by Aspie's mother, Gertrude Lispen. She knew I was a dedicated fan of her son's and offered to let me stay in the now-empty room that was once occupied by my hero, Aspie. I graciously accepted, and went with her to her car.

On the drive to the Lispen house we talked about many things; how she felt about Buncen Bern and Ricky Martini, the two ex-friend and bandmates who left Aspie to die in that graveyard, what life has been like since her son's death, and the events leading up to his mental breakdown and eventual suicide.
According to Gertrude, after a Tall Building show at a local coffee shop, a couple musicians- Twee-Pain, Lenn909n and Adam Green, introduced themselves to the band. They offered to "expand (their) minds" with various drugs to help their music. Buncen and Ricky, bored of simple indie folk, accepted, leaving Aspie and Birdie (who were very strictly anti-drug) alone and angry.
The three strange musicians had wormed their way into the band by the time they went into the studio to record Bermuda Adventure, angering Aspie and Birdie. Their songwriting was being slowly squeezed out and creative input ignored. The band would frequently sneak out of the studio to smoke drugs while Aspie would stay in alone, writing songs he hoped would impress his friends, but they would just laugh and tell him that his indie folk was too 2010- that he should be looking towards the future instead. He grew depressed. The depression only deepened with the sudden death of his best friend and bandmate, Birdie McSun. He quit the sessions and spent the rest of the time leading up to Birdy's funeral hiding in his room. After the funeral he starting living in the graveyard, and the rest is, well, indie history.

There was a long pause after she finished telling me all this. Fighting back tears, she turned on the radio to a news station. "Hearing about other people's sons dying in the war makes me feel a little better about it" she told me, as we listened to just that. After that, a shocking news report came in that Buncen Bern was not dead, and that he had, in fact, faked his own death in an attempt at gaining publicity for his album, Wrapped Up In Himself. And as if this weren't despicable enough, he announced that he was releasing ANOTHER new album, called For the Love of God Listen to This Album. Shameless publicity stunts aside, I wondered why Ricky Martini was in jail then, if he hadn't really killed Buncen. But that was a question for another day. I was tired and needed rest.

We arrived at the Lispen house late at night. I spent a considerable amount of time exploring Aspie's room and the treasures that were found all around it. I was getting ready to sleep when Gertrude entered the room, completely nude, and got into the bed with me. We made sweet love right there and then. I'm sure she was drawn to me because I am a charming big-shot music blogger/musician, but I have to admit, I only did it to feel closer to Aspie- and lying there, in his bed, inside the very vagina he came out of, I had never felt closer to a person.

Buncen was nowhere to be found for an interview, but the next day (after cooking me a terrible breakfast that was nothing more than a clusterfuck of burnt bacon and undercooked eggs) Gertrude took me to the prison where Ricky Martini was being held. I wanted to get to the bottom of this whole thing even more than I wanted to rub Aspie's posthumous success in their faces. I was taken to Ricky's cell, but it was mysteriously empty. The guard shrugged and escorted me back, but on our way, one of the inmates yelled to me "YO DAT RICKY DUDE WASN'T EVEN ACTUALLY BEIN HELD, DAWG. HE WAS PAYIN THE WARDEN TO LET HIM STAY HERE OR SOME SHIT, YA KNOW WHAT I'M SAYIN?" The guards quickly ushered me out without letting me interview the man, but I know what I heard.

Back at the Lispen house I started going through Aspie's things some more. Under his bed I found a laptop. It was password protected. I asked Gertrude about it and she told me I could have it if I wanted- she had tried cracking the password many times before, but to no avail. Using my knowledge of Aspie, I cracked the code on my first try. I typed in "iluvbikes" and watched as I was logged in. What I found on that hard drive made me happier than I had ever been in my entire life (and I'm not talking about the 10 gigs of furry + Asian porn). I found a folder called "new," which contained an entire album's worth of never-before-heard Aspie Lispen songs! The songs were bare- just guitar/piano and vocals, but they were there. I had found my new purpose. I immediately booked a flight back home.

I don't know or like what's going on with Ricky and Buncen, and I do intend to get to the bottom of it, but until then, I have taken it upon myself to overdub these songs and finish this masterpiece of an album! When I am done I will put it up on the internet, for all to hear for free!

Here is the "demo" of one of the songs, as I found it. I'm going to start the overdub process as soon as possible! Wish me luck!

Zakk Zielke - Super Srs

So I was just sent this album. Or I guess it's an EP. I've never heard of this band "Zakk Zickey" before but it was very highly recommended so I figured I'd give it a shot. Was I wrong in doing so? Maybe.

"Do I Even Have Eyes This Morning" is the first song, and in case you can't tell from the overly long title, it is some druggy shit. Sounds like that of Montreal band I had the displeasure of listening to around a week ago and reviewing. Drum machine, synthesizers and singing FUCKING EVERYWHRE. Any guitar? Of course not, this band is completely talentless.

"Laura Creepyhands Magic (Rainbow x2)" is some kinda Beatles shit, only with a guitar solo. I'm guessing the band brought in a session musician to play it for them since it's pretty complex and contains more than 3 notes.

"Kawaii Prince" is a simple disco song about having three colons or some gross shit. Yeah okay members of Zach Zilkey, I get it. You do drugs and listen to shitty old rock music from the '80s or whenever the Beatles last had a decent hit. Big whoop.

"(Whoa Whoa) Woe Is Me" is the fourth and final track, and it sports the shittiest lyrics on the whole album. This band wants the world to feel bad for them. I would if they hadn't just raped my ears. There's a nice little orchestral outro (which takes up like half the fucking song because it's like a minute long or some dum shit), but I'm sure it was all played on synthesizers since I'm sure no one in Sack Silkey has the talent required to play a violin or a sophisticated instrument like the cello.

Recommended for fans of shitty old music and shitty new music.

Final score:

4.3/10

You can listen to the whole thing here if for some fucked up reason you would ever want to do that.

Arcade Fire - The Suburbs

Alright, so anyone who reads this blog knows how I feel about Arcade Fire. Terrible band, but of course I'm woken up today by the UPS guy banging on my door. He hands me this package with this cd in it and I'm like "fuck this, no" but there is a note attached saying they need the promotion and will pay me a large amount of money to review it, so here we go.

From the first song you already know you have a winner of an album. I mean, it has all the ingredients- whiny vocals, whiny lyrics and a whole fucking lot of reverb. Speaking of lyrics, here is a gem I managed to pick up while trying to tune the whole thing out

"I want to have a daughter while I'm still young

I want to hold her hand" - Gerard Butler

It's great that the world is so accepting of pedophiles these days, what with this band's mainstream success, the worldwide weepfest over Michael Jackson's death and Playboy's latest interview with Peewee Herman. That was actually sarcasm, by the way. These are some sick fucks and the world has truly gone to shit if they're allowed to actually live let alone get rich. I could maybe understand if Arcade Fire made good music, but I'm listening to this album right now, and that is most definitely not the case.

Oh shit. I'm like halfway through the album now. I felt like I was just listening to longest, least interesting song ever written. Like someone did some science and figured out how to push the limits of boring into XTREME new territory and this was the result.

So every song is pretty much the exact same fucking thing. It goes on for ever and ever and ever and ever and goddammit, go away now, Arcade Fire. Just go away and never come back. Yeah dude, I know you can make BIG EPIC SONGS, but you've been sitting here showing me the same trick over and over again. I was kind of impressed the first time, but now it kind of seems like you're just desperate for attention. I'm serious here man, do something else or I'm leaving.

And they do something else. It only takes 3 hours of album for them to do it, but dammit, it happens. "Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)" sounds like some '80s Cyndi Lauper synthpop shit (in addition to their BIG EPIC ROFL sound that they don't want to give up ever), which is nice.

Actually, I think the problem is this dude's voice. He needs to just stop singing. You hear that, Gerard Butler? Stop singing. Let that one chick sing from now on. You're not worth hearing for a straight hour. Sorry bro, no hard feelings.

Final Score

Turd/10

Concert Review - Barenaked Ladies @ Bank of America Pavilion 8/7/10

First, some back story:

The year was 2006, It was my first BNL concert and I was so excited. Halfway through the show I had to use the bathroom and couldn't put it off for another second. After the typical 20 minute wait, I was in the bathroom stall when I heard the band start playing "Call and Answer" with the audience going nuts after the first opening bars. I was wiping when they got the the "I'M WAAAARNIN YOU DON'T EVER DO THOSE CRAZY MESSED UP THINGS THAT YOU DO" part. Suddenly, the audience's screams of joy turned into screams of horror and pain. I finished up, washed my hands as quick as possible, and ran out to see what was the matter. What I saw was both the most horrible and glorious sight I have ever witnessed.

The band had finished playing the song and the entire venue was dead silent. I looked at across the room at the seats, and saw nothing but bloody, charred corpses. Everyone was dead, my parents included. I crawled to their seats on my hands and knees, sobbing uncontrollably. "HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN" I whimpered into the pant leg of my dead mother's jeans. "WHY GOD, WHY???" But this was not the work of God.

I looked up and saw a golden hammer, loosing itself from my father's cracked, broken-in skull. It flew into the air toward the stage. I looked up into the sky and saw thousands of the things, all seemingly being pulled to the same spot. I stood up.

Steven Page was standing center stage while the rest of the band packed up their equipment. His unnaturally large mouth seemed to be stuck open as the hammers flew towards him, shrinking as they got nearer and eventually disappearing down his throat. Stunned, I fell back, landing on my mother's body. I heard a snap and her head rolled down into my lap. I screamed and dropped it onto the floor. When it hit the ground, it crumbled into an ashy white dust. I stood up, tears streaming down my face, and stared at Page. Apparently my scream had gotten his attention, because he was staring at me as well. We stood there, looking into each other's mind's for what seemed like an eternity (though realistically was more like 30 seconds). Suddenly, he broke the gaze, turned around and went backstage, maybe to have a glass of water before getting back onto the tour bus.

When he was gone from view I fainted, hitting my head hard on the concrete floor.

I woke up a couple days later in a hospital. It took me months to recover mentally and deal with the trauma of seeing my mother's burnt, severed head grinning up at me from my lap, but I'm fine now.

My therapist always used to ask me if I hated Mr. Page now, after all he's done to me and my family, but my answer is always the same: He may have killed my parents and an entire building full of other people's parents, but hatred is one thing I do not feel for him.

Here is a list of what I feel for Mr. Page:

1. Fear
2. Respect

So 4 years, 153 therapy sessions and 2 foster families after my last experience with Barenaked Ladies in a live environment, I decided that it was time again to face the band that killed my parents. Why now? Well, Steven Page was finally gone and there was no real threat of bodily harm or death to be found in the new four piece. Plus I liked their new album and figured it would be worth the risk regardless.

My foster mother and I were on our way to the venue an hour and a half early when we saw, standing outside a restaurant a couple blocks down from the Pavilion, Ed Robertson in his civilian clothes. I notified my foster mother that we were in the presence of a Music King and she didn't believe me until some other chick told her "YEAH THAT IS HIM TEE HEE" or something along those lines.
Anyway, he was with a friend or something, and when I got closer he looked at me and I could see the hate in his eyes. He leaned down to his friend and whispered "Oh shit, it's that guy who said Steve's single is better than most of All In Good Time. Let's get outta here." I know this because I am a master of lipreading from all the charity work I've done with the deaf. Anyway, I considered approaching him, but thought it best to just leave him alone while he's in such an agitated state. He walked towards the venue with everyone else following. Not in a stalker way, but more in a everyone's-going-to-the-same-place kind of way.

My foster mother did manage to get a picture of his back though. That WAS done in a stalker sort of way. The picture came out alright though. They could probably use it for cover art for a new album or single



He went around to the back of the venue to do drugs or have sex with multiple women or whatever they do to warm up before shows. I thought about following him and when we were all alone demanding either $20 of the ridiculous ticket price back or a haircut. My hair is pretty long and if he didn't have any money on him it would work because a decent haircut is usually somewhere in around $20 anyway. I didn't do any of that though. I entered the Bank of America Pavilion. From the front. Like a Real American Hero.

The first chick who played was alright. Until she did the Radiohead cover anyway. She did a great job and she has a great voice, but goddamn I hate Radiohead. I actually just now found out that she is black. A black person opening for Barenaked Ladies? This must be a first. Progress!

The dude who played next was pretty bad. What's he goin for, some kind of Bob Dylan/Neil Young/Lynyrd Skynyrd thing? Boring as shit. And he just kept going. And going. And going. I felt like running the mile from my shitass seat to the stage, jumping on, and setting his long hippie hair on fire.

After he was done douchin it up all was quiet and peaceful once more in the land of the Bank of America Pavilion. There was a projector on the walls with messages from people attending the show. I texted "herp derp" to it, and, unsurprisingly, it never showed up, making room for more important messages such as "I ate an entire raccoon once" and "Hiiiiii =D".

8 hours of Tetris later, Barenaked Ladies took the stage. They opened with "Who Needs Sleep" which is a weird opener, but I'm glad I got to finally hear it. I'm not gonna do some kind of track by track review, but highlights were:

- Easy
- How Long
- Another Heartbreak
- Sound of Your Voice
- Let There Be Light
- Four Seconds (sounds badass live)
- Alcohol

Last song they did was Brian Wilson, and while they do still sound like a BNL cover band on that one, it was pretty good. Not a trainwreck like some other live videos I've seen.

It was a pretty great show overall. Worth the $60? Maybe. But are the BNL sweatshirts they were selling at the merch booth worth $50? Fuck no. And AIGT is $25 on vinyl? I could buy the album 2 1/2 times on compact disc for that much. And what else do I get out of it? Bigger cover art? The cover art is just kind of them standing around looking serious. I don't need that that big for $25.

of Montreal - False Priest

Alright so today I got this thing in the mail. It's an album called False Priest by a band called of Montreal. What is of Montreal other than French-Canadians and their filthy gravy-soaked french fries anyway? Anyway, I opened the box and the first thing I noticed was the album cover. I could tell just by looking at it that this band was gonna be one of those "hey let's just make a giant clusterfuck of noise and call it psychadelic" bands. I wasn't wrong.

The album opens with "I Feel Ya Strutta" which I guess is some kind of wigger slang for something sexual. Not sure, but the song is like some kind of Bee Gees disco shit. There's a reason why disco died, of Montreal, and that reason is BECAUSE IT'S SHIT. I can't stand all these hipster bands trying to revive these demons that their rock n' rolling ancestors managed to finally destroy. Pisses me off.

"Our Riotous Defects" (oooh, wacky song titles! So psychadelic!) is a giant disco clusterfuck with an annoying falsetto chorus of "SHE'S JUST A CRAAAAZY GIRL" with verses that consist of lead singer Kevin Barnum talking like one of those bitches from that Clueless movie (it was on TV one night and I was drunk and couldn't find the remote, OK?). I think it's supposed to be funny, but it's really not. Not at all.

One thing I noticed on my first listen of this album was that Kevin Barnum does not know how to write songs. He lays down obnoxious, funky instrumentals and then talks over them. I'd say it's close to rapping, but that would imply that there is some kind of rhythm in there, which there is not. A good example of this is "Godly Intersex" which has to be one of the most dull things I have ever heard. OH MAN, LISTEN TO THOSE ECHOEY VOCALS. 10/10. Just kidding, you suck.

The highlight of the first half of the album is "Coquette Coquette," a song that, while pretty bad, is better than the rest of the songs because it actually has some guitar in it. Unfortunately, the break from shitty white boy faux-disco doesn't last very long, and you're treated to another delightful forty-something minutes of samey falsettos and synthesizers.

Actually, the whole rest of the album has 0 standout tracks (other than Sex Karma, which only gets a mention because it features the sister of Beyonce, an actually good singer and songwriter on it, doing most of the work).

The worst part of the album is the very last part. The "epic closer" as I'm sure most hipsters will call it, "You Do Mutilate?", ends with about a minute of Kevin Barnum preaching about God and Jesus and how bad religion is like this is some big, shocking news. Like God-fearing Christians and Muslim extremists are going to be listening to incredibly gay indie disco albums. Thanks Kevin Barnum, you really showed them and changed the world with your words and melodies. Shit, did I say melodies? What I meant was BULLSHIT.

Final Score:

4.3/10

(Extra 2 points added for Solange being on it).

MGMT - Congratulations

Holy fuck is that a cat surfing?

Anyway, this is an album by MGMT. What does that even stand for? MOstly Gay Manloving Tfaggots?

I'm listening to this album right now, and it's like, shitty surfgarage rock or something. Because we didn't get enough of that shit in the 60s, right? Give me a fuckin break."Brian Eno" is like this giant clusterfuck of reverb, organ and screeching. I actually had an organ once. I sold it. Because life is hard and you have to make sacrifices. These fuckholes in this shit ass band obviously don't know anything about hard work and sacrifice. They sound like a bunch of spoiled little shits who just learned how to make music. HEY LETS PLAY THE SAME LITTLE BASSLINE OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND WAIL OVER IT."

Did I mention that the singer sounds like the Arcade Fires? FUck that.

Another standout, "Kids" is some kind of techno shit. I bet they thought they were being so diverse, putting these different genres together, but it's just fucking BAD. Doesn't fit with the other songs at all.

By the way, fuck synthesizers. All these fuckin hipsters thinking they're gonna be so clever and ironic, bringing back cheesy synths to play in their shitty indie rock. There's a reason no one likes '80s music now, and that reason is synthesizers. Stick to guitars like real men you whiny little shits.

Final score:

1.7/10

Baby Giraffes - Fucking Sucks

So I was just emailed a link to this album called Fucking Sucks by a band called Baby Giraffes. This is a good title for this album, and I am going to tell you why: this fucking sucks.

My first thought upon listening to this was "why are Blink-182 selling out and using synthesizers like fuckin Britney Spears? Don't they have any self-respect left?" but then I remembered everything Blink did after that album about getting Enemas, and decided that no, they didn't have any self-respect. But then I heard these dudes rapping and noticed that "holy shit, this band isn't Blink at all."

I dunno what the lyrics are about (not that this ebonics trash is even real English), but this song I'm listening to right now is called "Pine Boys" which sounds like the title of a VHS tape passed around in the mail by shady pedophiles through PO boxes and shit.

These songs are catchy though. At least they have that going for them. "Giraffe Party" being a good example of that, with the brilliant chorus of "DO A LITTLE DANCE AND HAVE LOTS OF FUN, BABY GIRAFFES ARE NUMBER ONE/MAKE A LITTLE NOISE AND HAVE LOTS OF SEX, BABY GIRAFFES ARE THE FUCKING BEST!" What exactly they are the best at is unknown, but they seem pretty confident of this. Maybe they are the best at thinking they're the best? Ha ha ha.

There are some other songs about Yu-Gi-Oh cards or something, I dunno. I asked my friend (aka some random faggot I ran into on the internet) what he/she (I'm unsure of this person's gender) thought of this band, and s/he said "it sounds like Mindless Self Indulgence mixed with Hollywood Undead" and while I'm not too into it, I don't hate it enough to compare it to fucking MSI.

And holy shit, I just got to the song "Magical Sea Donkey" and good God, I'm actually glad for once that I blanked out typing this and started paying attention to the lyrics. This is probably the best educational song I've heard since the Magic School Bus and Reading Rainbow bullshit. I was immersed in the historical storyline of the song, and I'm betting you will too.

I was kind of iffy on this whole thing, but "Magical Sea Donkey" bumps this shit up by a couple points.

Final Score:
7.7/10

You can listen to the whole thing here for free. You can pay to download the mp3s but, like, who actually does that anyway? NOT ME. I'M A BLOG WRITER, MOTHERFUCKER. I GET THIS SHIT FOR FREE. I'm sure this band would use the money for meth and handjobs from 15 year old girls anyway.

Tall Building Box Set

A couple weeks ago, Tall Building dropped an A-Bomb on the indie world: an announcement that the band would be breaking up. Fans worldwide expressed shock and horror, even going so far as organizing protests and rioting. I personally made a trip across the country, from Bethlehem, New Hampshire to Olympia, Washington, the home town of most of the members of Tall Building.

I tried several times to track down the former members of Tall Building to ask them why they would do this to the world. To ask them if what was broken could be fixed, but I got mostly voicemails and some long, confusing directions from family members that took me on a wild goose chase to nowhere in particular. I finally gave up on my quest, but before I left, decided to pay a visit to Birdie McSun's grave to pay my respects and thank him for all the beautiful music he had given us (and for apparently holding the band together for so long).

When I got there, Aspie Lispen was lying on Birdie's grave, drinking something out of a bottle inside of a paper bag. His face was covered in beard and dirt. He told me that he'd been staying here, in this very spot, for weeks now. Apparently he took Birdie's death harder than the other members. He explained that occasionally Twee-Pain, one of the only neutral members of the band (as well as the last of Aspie's remaining friends) would stop by and bring him some veggie burgers so he didn't die of starvation. He wouldn't tell me where he used the restroom. He responded to most of my questions about the band with incoherent ramblings. I eventually decided that I'd had enough of this. I didn't want to see my musical hero at rock bottom, so I decided to leave. Before I could go, he grabbed me by my shirt collar and whispered into my ear. The smell of alcohol was heavy and it was making me sick, but when I heard what he was telling me, I ceased to notice.

I thanked him for this information and ran as fast as I could.

Soon enough, I was where it all started; Exploring the woods behind Kimya Dawson's house. I found the markings the band members left on their nature walks those fateful 2 months ago. Within a few hours I came to the clearing where the band recorded their first two releases, Branches and Sailboats in the Forest. Only it wasn't a clearing anymore. There was a tent pitched there. I approached the campsite slowly, but on one step, I felt a rope tighten around my foot as I was flung upside-down into the air.

A couple minutes later, an old man exited the tent, dressed in silky golden robes. He asked what I was doing here, and I told him what Aspie had told me: that I was here to find the Lost Treasure of Tall Building, and that his tent was right on top of its supposed location. But he didn't seem surprised when I told him this. He smiled. "I know" he said, "that is why I'm here. You see, I am the biggest Tall Building fan alive, and I have been here since the release of Sailboats in the Forest, looking for any scraps the band have left behind to add to my collection. I had zero luck until today. While digging, I hit something solid. I carefully uncovered it and found a box full of tapes. You actually got here as soon as I was playing them back. Would you care to listen with me?" I said yes and entered the old man's tent.

There he played for me the most wondrous musical creations I had ever heard. Some songs were beautiful. Some songs were honest. Some were beautiful AND honest. I was amazed and asked if I could buy them, but he outright refused, saying that these were his and his alone. I could beg and offer money as much as I pleased, but he would not budge. That was when I decided that drastic measures had to be taken.

I removed the cassette tape from my jean pocket. The old man looked at me confused until I showed him the label. It read Neutral Milk Hotel - Runaway Slave written in red crayon by Jeff Mangum himself. This was the lost Neutral Milk Hotel album, recorded before On Avery Island, only heard by Jeff Mangum, a man named Alfred Hybrid (who was viciously beaten and killed when his house was raided for the lost NMH tapes in early 2008), and myself. It was hard parting with this tape, but in the end it was worth it. In fact, I actually feel kind of bad for the old man, because was clearly ripped off.

So now I'm back at home, uploading these songs for you, the deserving public. Tall Building may be gone (for now), but maybe they can live on a little longer in our hearts with help from these recordings.

SO NOW READERS AND LISTENERS, I PRESENT TO YOU, THE TALL BUILDING BOX SET!

Tall Building breaks up

This is probably the worst news I've heard in the past couple years.

From their post on the Elephant Six Townhall:

We are very sad to inform you guys that Tall Building has broken up.

To be honest, it had been coming for a while now. Fights within the band during the recording of our last album were bad, but the VERY disappointing sales for Bermuda Adventure are just too much.

The rest of the members might go on to do other things. I don't even care anymore. I didn't even WANT to make Bermuda Adventure, so if these guys want to continue making their SELLOUT MAINSTREAM NICKELBACK SHIT fine by me. I'm out either way. Birdie would be appalled by what Buncen and Ricky have done to the band.

Thanks for listening,
Aspie Lispen and Tall Building

I've been trying to get some comments from the ex-members, but so far they're not answering. What the hell happened? I think I'm gonna be sick.

KFC - Double Down

To-day I will be doing something in-o-vative and in-spire-ing the likes of which you faygs haven't seen since Apple released the iPad. (There's my relevant, unoriginal joke for the day.) Instead of reviewing cool music for cool guys or unhetero music for unhetero guys, I am going to be reviewing something different entirely. A sandwich.

There has been a lot of controversy over this particular sandwich (called the "Double Down) probably because it sounds like a gay sex move involving three men. In one camp, you have the fucking PETA retards who hate anything good and spread propaganda about fast food saying shit like "It's bad for you" and "Don't eat cats and dogs." Let me ask you this you fucking PETA retards, if I spend a large chunk of my precious fucking time waiting on a WHITE WOMAN to fix my fucking dinner, aren't I retro-actively killing myself the same as if I just ate fast food, only in a different fashion? (Think hipster vs. goth.)

On the other side of this coin are black people, who FUCKING LOVE anything and everything fried chicken. While I wholeheartedly reccommend this sandwich (despite gay sex move name) to white people, black people need to stay way from it at all costs. It tastes pretty good if you're white, so if you're black this sandwich will probably react like fucking crack in your system and you won't be able to stop eating them.

Anyway on to the sandwich.

Basically it's two fucking pieces of fried chicken and some OTHER SHIT I don't care about because I love Fried Chicken. Eating this is like having sex with a woman who is all tits and ass, WHILE WATCHING THE SUPER BOWL. In fact, I would reccommend buying two of these bad boys, stacking them on top of each other and chowing down, just so you'll know what it's like to fuck two women and watch Superbowl 30 and 32 at the same motherfucking time holy shit I just creamed my Rocawear's.

Now if you're worried about negative health effects from eating this then DON'T BE. I found out that this sandwich actually has this cool thing where the more you eat the more weight you lose.

Just try eating seven of these bad boys and you'll puke more than you did the first time you performed a keg stand (probably lose about 20 pounds, see bulimia) I mean shit I'm selling this sandwich so hard KFC should put me in a commercial.

The only real downside is it gives me a headache, but fuck I get hammered every weekend and never bitch about a hang over, so who fuckin' cares?!

FINAL SCORE:

Evelyn Evelyn - Evelyn Evelyn

Evelyn Evelyn is the debut album from a band called Evelyn Evelyn. What an original fucking title, right? Not only do they name their band after their names, but they named their album after their band named after their name.

I'm not gonna lie here folks, this is pretty much the soundtrack to a shitty new Tim Burton movie (not Nightmare Before Christmas shit, think the Corpse Bride).

You know what the gayest thing about this album is though? Not the spoken word interludes, even though those are gay as fuck. No, it's the fact that the clearly male singers are both named Evelyn. I bet that shit's not even their real names. They were probably John and Steve or some shit, and had their names changed to Evelyn to live out their tranny mallgoth fantasies. Sick shit.

"Have You Seen My Sister Evelyn" is supposed to be one of those tin pan alley vaudeville fuckin songs like what Tiny Tim did or some shit. Just unlike Tiny Tim, these shemales seem like they're trying to attract the Hot Topic-shopping, Sweeney Todd-loving crowd by attempting to make this shit dark and edgy.

"Chicken Man" is probably the only good song on the album. That's really just because the lyrics are real good. Here are the lyrics

Chicken man, chicken man
lalalalal
chicken man, chicken man
lalalala

There's a bunch of spoken word bullshit. I'm assuming that's because it's supposed to have a plot, making this a concept album. And what are concept albums? That's right, GAY. Not only is it gay, but it's fucking boring. If I wanted to listen to a book on tape I'd listen to a goddamn book on tape.

Looking at Windows Media Player, I see that this particular spoken word track, "The Tragic Events Pt. II" is 11 minutes long. No thank you, that is quite enough of this nonsense.

Final score:
2/10

EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH TALL BUILDING

It's a cold and rainy Sunday night when I walk into the Bluebird Cafe'. The members of indie band Tall Building are seated on the floor, legs crossed Indian style in a circle. One of the many singers and multi-instrumentalists in the band, Ricky Martini, is banging melodically on a set of bongos while Aspie Lispen, another of the many talented songwriters and vocalists, sings about kittens and existentialism. Birdie McSun, the man behind many of Tall Building's more melcancholy songs, is mysteriously absent. When I enter the room, they all stop what they are doing and stare at me. "Hello, I'm Cameron Clarke," I nervously explain to them, "I'm here to interview you."

Cool Music For Cool Guys: Hello Tall Building. This is my first interview with a band as popular and influential as you guys, so please excuse me if I get nervous and fuck something up.

Aspie Lispen: Don't worry. We know all about getting nervous and embarrassed.

CMFCG: Thank you.

So how are you all today? I know you were just playing a show here. How did that go?

Buncen Bern: Oh man, the dudes who run that place are real nice guys. They gave us free coffee! I'm telling you, that place has a fantastic atmosphere.

Ricky Martini: I don't drink coffee cause it is addictive. I would rather draw pictures and examine life.

CMFCG: So how did you guys end up meeting and forming a band?

AL: Well, Ricky and I met in Kindergarten. We met Birdie and Buncen in the fourth grade. We decided to form a band last year when we were out on a camping trip in the woods behind Kimya Dawson's house in Olympia, WA. We brought a 4 track and our ukuleles and recorded our debut EP, Branches, there, around the campfire.

CMFCG: And now you have a full-length out called Sailboats in the Forest. Could you tell us more about that? For example, where did the inspiration for the title come from?

RM: The name Sailboats in the Forest represents our struggle through life. It's like we have to sail through trees and shit, and it's near impossible.

CMFCG: That is pretty deep:

BB: It's also sort of about the day I was born. There was a terrible flood, and we had to evacuate the hospital almost immediately after I was birthed. We got on a life raft and ending up floating in a forest for about six days until help arrived. I don't remember it at all but the experience still had a profound effect on me.

CMFCG: I've listened to the album several times now, and I've gotta say, it's amazing.

AL: Thanks, it means a lot to us.

RM: I put a lot of my heart and soul into that record, in fact, it took quite a while to ge the creativity flowing to create such songs as Bunny Rabbits and Flannel Shirt.

CMFCG: I'd imagine!

Now, if you don't mind me asking, where is Birdie McSun?

RM: He is visiting some Tibetan monks to master martial arts and get in touch with his spirituality.

CMFCG: So that means he won't be joining us tonight?

AL: He might. The monastary is only a couple blocks down the street.

CMFCG: What was the inspiration behind the song Milk?

BB: Well one time me and my old friends were walking around a farm with cows at night. One guy started milking a cow out of nowhere. I was really grossed out at first, but slowly I began to realize how beautiful it was. It's really crazy. This stuff, it gives life! Nursing. Beautiful, really.
CMFCG: The song "Vegetables" off of Sailboats In The Forest is particulary interesting. Do you guys have any thoughts on fast food?

BB: It Birdie were here he would write you a fucking novel on the subject! Personally, I try to stay away from it. I love Thai!

CMFCG: Are you guys working on any new music? What do you have planned for the future?

BB: We are actually going for a different style for our next full-length. I'm not really supposed to say anything, but there may be a cameo or two from other collective artists. Let's just pray this shit does not get leaked before release date, it could really hurt our sales.

RM: Anyone who leaks this stuff is facing the wrath of Ricky Martini yo.

AL: We definitely intend to push our sound into a whole new dimension.

CMFCG: Any final remarks?

RM: Fuck the leaf village.

AL: Stay fresh guys. Remember, you are your own people. Never let anyone tell you what you can or can not do!

BB: No. Nothing is final. Everything is eternal, man.

CMFCG: Thank you for your time.

You can stream and/or download Tall Building's new album, Sailboats in the Forest here.

Tall Building - Branches EP

Okay so according to this band's website, Tall Buildings are a band from some part of the world who write songs about shit in the woods with ukuleles. That sounds fucking gay, but stick with me here.

The first song, "Little Bird" recalls the smooth and mighty vocal stylings of Jeff Mangum on songs like Neutral Milk Hotel's "Communist Daughter." "Spirit In The Sky" is a dark rumination on life and mortality and just why we're all here.

Despite the diverse subject matter and musical styles on this album, there seems to be a constant theme: mixtapes. "Mixtape On Your Bed" finds the narrator in the bedroom of a girl he likes, whom he is unable to admit his true feelings. He leaves a mixtape on her bed (and huffs some of her perfume and maybe smells some of her socks), hoping that she'll find it and listen to it. It has a strong sense of optimism and is one of the most beautiful songs I've heard all year.

"The Sun" is almost as bright as the actual song, with a strong melody sung with with ecstatic glee into the heavens. "Calculator, See Ya Later" is a very melancholy song, with lyrics, again, bringing back strong memories of Jeff Mangum at his Aeroplane Best.

Up to this point, it is already a great album (strongest of 2010 so far, I'd say), but the end is where the best song lies; "Dee Dee Dee" is an energetic and joyful celebration of music and life and nature and dees. Kazoos and 8 part vocal harmonies build into a giant, swelling vortex of beauty.

It is recommended that you listen to this album. Immediately.

Final Score:
10/10

Link to where you can listen to the whole thing for free.

K-os - Yes!

To-day I am reviewing an album unlike any album before it like seriously in the history of all the shitty music we've reviewed here at CMCG (not CBCG ahaha) this album is different. For one thing, it's ACTUALLY GOOD. Now the single off this album or at least what I'm going to call the single because I like it the best and I obviously decide what songs are successful singles and whats arent cuz hey, i know music!!

So yeah the single is called "I Wish I Knew Natalie Portman" and while that bitch has no titties and liking her is kinda ghey I have to give K-Os some credit for this track. Not only did he steal all the music from a shitty fayglo jam by the band Phallus Planut, but he actually made it sound good! It's also a plus that the video features black cowboys on a road trip with a bag with space inside it or something. I don't know man, I just love black people.

The Natalie Portman Jam is actually so good I don't even have to listen to the rest of the CD to tell you it's easily the best thing I've heard all year, maybe in the history of this review site. (In secret I'm afraid that if I give this CD a negative review, K-os will shoot me because black people are suspicious, but please keep that on the dee elle!)

The following is a short list of ten reasons I love this CD:

1. Black people are cool.

2. Stealing is cool.

3. Black people stealing things is cool.

4. The color red is cool, and the CD cover uses a lot of it.

5. Not getting shot is cool.

6. Connecting with the roots of African American culture(stealing shit) is cool.

7 - 10. At least it isn't fallout boy.

So with those accounted for I will rate this CD:

Fi-... TEN/10

Rouge Wave - PETALIGHT

O-kay so the music CD I will be reviewing today is pretty interesting. And by interesting I mean thoroughly gaysexual and probably not worth your time unless you like phallic imagery and bitches falling off waterfalls or something.

Back in like 2004 I reviewed the band Owl Shitty befoer any body knew who they were so people knew they sucked. Well this band Rogue Light is a lot like Octagon Pussy because they take an ALREADY SHITTY BAND and make it gayer. The band I am refererering to is Death Crabs For Cutie. The vocalist from this band Rogue Wick (that's a dick joke) is probably the same vocalist from Death Panels just ripping himself off like a money grubbing asshole.

Now this is far from the worst or even most gayest CD I've reviewed for this website (you guys have put me through a lot of shit) but let me just say it's pretty bad. I mean any time a CD has a song on it named after the album or the album is named after the song or some bullshit like that the CD is automatically bad for several reasons. Number one it is just confusing to refer to this CD PERMALIT and also the song PERMALIT without people being like "Hey dude did you mean PERMALIT the CD or Permalit the song" to which the best response would be "FUCK IT LET'S PLAY SOME FOOTBALL" so maybe they could have called the CD something else like Unhetero Jams Vol. 2 or just GAY SHIT. The second reason is it's probably intentionally confusing because unheteros are generally confused themselves by the way sexuality works (you can't make a baby with two dicks fellas) so they want to confuse you too with their shitty music.

Luckily, there is one way you could easily counteract the clever trickery of these unsavory homosexuals.

DON'T BUY THEIR ALBUM.

Now you might say to yourself "But as a straight male, if I and a bunch of other straight males buy their music, maybe the band will SELL OUT and become STRAIGHT to appeal to us even more." But no dude you're fucking wrong. If you buy this CD in hopes of turning the band straight, they will use their nine volume catalog of dick in male ass tricks to cause you to go gay for them and eveyr other fucking dipshit with a fo hawk so just don't fucking do it. I almost feel like an unhetero for even reviewing this CD but luckily I put my HUGE COCK in so many TIGHT PUSSIES that I couldn't go gay even if I wanted to.

Which I don't.

Ever.

In my life.

So moving right along I guess since I've accuritly and unbyeassedly reflected on the positives (nothing) and negatives (gay ass shit) of this CD I can give it a final score.

/10

Owen Pallett - Heartland

Okay so Heartland is the first album by Owen Pallett. I guess before this he made music for shitty Final Fantasy games. This is the first I've heard of him, but I guess that's because I'm not a nerd who plays RPGs and touches his penis to tentacle monsters and Japan like this guy.

I guess this is a concept album. I read that somewhere, but I forget where. It sounds like a concept album anyway. Or a fucking opera. OOH STRINGS SO DRAMATIC. LOOK IT'S PETER PAN ON A TIGHTROPE.

Gay.

"Mount Alpentine" is a pretty cool track. There are these really loud strings and the dude is yelling really loud so you can hear him over it. Too bad it's only like 40 seconds long, and when he finally gets through the giant cloud of strings and other bullshit he goes back to meandering along, mumbling over more orchestra shit. Wait, no, THERE SEEMS TO BE SOME SORT OF SYNTHESIZER. SO SPECIAL.

"Lewis Takes Action" is actually pretty alright. There's actually drums in it, and Pallett actually sings (kind of) on it. It actually sounds kind of like a song and not just a giant mass of Cats and Les Miserabadkfsfv garbage.

"The Great Elsewhere" consists of a bunch of beeping and booping. Fucking bori-HOLY SHIT THESE DRUMS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Okay nevermind this song is kind of awesome. I feel kind of dirty enjoying it though.

Okay the next song is kind of boring and not good. Thank God.

"Lewis Takes Off His Shirt" (while being a super gay song title) is an alright song. There are drums and, uh, wait a fucking minute. How far am I lowering my standards if I'm saying that every song I hear with drums is good just because there are drums? No, fuck you, I'm on to you, Owen Pallett, and you will not get away with this bullshit with me. I'm not even going to listen to the rest of this album. I'm so mad I think I will go outside and beat the shit out of the first small child I run into. And it's all your fault, Owen Pallett. FUCK YOU.

Final Score:
4/10

Vampire Weekend - Contra

Hello! This is Cameron Clarke, posting his first cool guy review in like 3 months. "Why haven't you posted anything in so long?" Well, you see, I've been living in the woods like Bon Iver, eating only what I kill and wiping the shit off my ass with tree bark. I am back now though, so don't worry.

Vampire Weekend is an indie rock band or some shit I guess. This is their new album and for some reason they have Britney Spears on their album cover. This album doesn't sound anything like Britney Spears. Unfortunately (I say that because this shit is even gayer than Britney Spears).

The first song, "Horchata" is a song about drinking some shit called horchata. If that's anything like chai tea, these people are even gayer than I thought, but I'ma give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that horchata is really just a really obscure brand of rum or tequila or something, and the song is about doing shots of it with lots of cocaine.

"California English" is a pretty sweet song, but only because there's assloads of autotune. I bet if this dude sang without autotune it would sound like wet dicks.

Also, what's with this band and their "ooooooh"ing in the background? Who the fuck do they think they are? The Arcade Fire? Does Vampire Weekend think they're in Where the fucking Wild Things Are?

Another thing I do not like about this album is how some of the tracks start off mid-verse and end mid-chorus. Like "oh look at me I'm so avante garde" well fuck you, asshole, it's just shitty. Of course the rip I got off soulseek could just be fucked, but I'ma give soulseek the benefit of the doubt and assume that everything I get from it is perfect and any faults in the album can be blamed on the band.

Anyway, overall, this album is kind of shitty. I mean, yeah, cool, beepy boopy, shitty drums, blah, blah, I get it. I got it on the first album, which wasn't very good either. But hey, what do you expect from a band named after a Twilight book?

Final score:
4.3/10

My Review Of Isaac Asse.

Recently it has come to my attenshin that referreeing to black people as black people has suddenly become RACSIST.

I would like to personally think Isaac Asse for letting me know the grave misstep I made in my re-view of that new shitty Godzillas album in refefrering to the black people that appear on that album as black people and not just people.

Since we heer at Cool Music For Cool Guys are fair and balanced reviewers of soshil media in audiologikal form I thought it would be fitting that I reeward mister Asse with a review of his review blog as repayment for him letting me know what a racsit fucktard I am.

Let me start off by saying that Issic is a confirmed unheterosexual, but I am going to try and give him a fare reviewing desprite that.

Isaac is a self proclammed Media Journalist which basically means he is a stupid fucktard who sits at his computer and types reviews for shit nobody really cares about and then pretends people will actually read them when he posts them to his .blogspot.com. Alex and I are a lot alike. I like him. I don't like Isaac.

Mr. Ass usually reviews albums by bands that suck and a couple bands that don't suck. My biggest problem with Isaac is that being that he is a huge faggot, he usually judges an album completely wrongly, giving grade A arteests like the White Stripes FUCKS/20 and gay ass retards like Scroobious Peep (Who the fuck is that?) 10/9s.

Now if you're smart like me which you probably aren't you came to the obvious conclusion that Mr. Asse is being paid off by all of these uncouth GAY MUSICIANS to give them positive reviews and bash their competition. By being paid off I mean fucked in his gay hole.

My other huge complain with Ivan is that he claims I am a racist. Work with me here Arturo, you're saying you read all of my other reviews liked them and you came to this one and didn't like it just because I used the words "black people" like three or fourteen times max? What about all the unhetero bashing I do?

I feel like that should bother you more since you are obviously a complete and total FAGGOT.

Oh well, this is exactly what I'd expect from some unhetero tool douchebag who probably doesn't like football hockey beernuts or hooters.

FINAL SCORE:

QUEERBAIT/10

Gorillaz - Bullshit Beach.

Sup sup y'all, it'z yoru bboy ERIN E-SURANCE LOL back again to rate another unhetero album that nobody likes. This time around we got Gorillaz new album At The Beach and let me just say BOY OH BOY MONKEES YOU FUCKED UP!

I feel sorry for the Godzillas because they decided to actually mail me a copy of this steaming pile of shit in the hopes of me giving it an A Plus Out Of Ten or some shit but they should've known that isn't my got dam style.

Let me just say their first album Nutellas was a pretty good attempt at making something that doesn't sound like shit, and their second CD Demon Dicks had that one song with Jay-Z or one of those other black guys who rhymes words because he doesn't know how to sing that was A-Okay. Feel Gay, Inc. or something it was called.

But this album... This album is SHIT.

There's only one song on it that doesn't make me want to fucking SHOOT MYSELF and even that one is called SUPERFAG JELLYFISH.

Most of the songs are so fucking boring I turned them on,

Walked away,

Read a book,

Walked back,

Took a nap,
And was still only halfway through the boring monotonal shit of this CD.

One of the songs Stylish is just a single loop of music OVER AND OVER AGAIN with very slight variations and with different black people sounding like black people over it. FUCKING STUPID.

I think the Gunkillas really played a big joke on their fans with this CD but they didn't fool me any.

SELLOUTS.

FINAL SCORE:

GAYRILLAZ/10

Owl City - Ocean Eyes

O-kay here it is my review of Hoot Village's new CD Oh Sean Ayes. Now let me just say there is a multiple tude of problems and bonueses to trhis CD that many people will either like or FUCKING HATE. Me personaly I might like the musica if this dude wasn't such a raging FAYGET. I mean come on buddy insomnia is not your musical inspiration its money you dipshyt.

Basically this listening CD listening to it is a lot like putting your ear down on a plate of pancakes it's very syrupy but after I while you will feel awkward and a little unhetero. Many other people use words like vibrant lush multilayered fascinating inspirational awe inspiring and cool but not me because I'm not a huge FUCKING HOMO. Basically its just sum dude who sat down in his basement with a K C O and was like hey look at me MTV I make music too and then MTV was actually fucking stupid enough to give him a record contract and a rap video with bitches in it only this faggot does not make good music about shooting people he makes BULLSHIT about not being able to sleep.

Here is one example of some of the lyrics on this CD Hello Seattle I am an albatross.

Are you fucking kidding me Conor Obherst? First of all shout out to all my dudes in Seattle who DEFINITELY AREN't GHEY ENOUGH TO LIKE THIS CRAP. Second you are obviously not an albatross because an albatross doesn't know how to sing you douche.

Never before have I ever been mailed a CD to review for free (of course I didn't pay for this garbage) only to put it in my 1989 CD Player and have it FUCKING LIE TO ME.

Srsly.

I might not be so mad about this CD totally sucking GOAT COCK if this guy wasn't like a quadruple platinum artist with this BS. I mean I work hard on music every single day and have only made like 2 dolalrs off my music but this loltard cna make as much off his CD as McDonald's makes in a week are you fucking kidding me?

FINAL SCORE:

FAST FOOD WAGES/10