Separating the sweet, juicy flesh from the stone and skin of this week?s major label releases.
It’s Monday. Just another plain old Monday.
Another day of sighs, cries and whys. Why, dear God? Why would you do this to mankind, the very fruits of your celestial loins? Why would you torture us so, when we have done naught but be faithful in our service to you?
Yes, Ringo Starr‘s got another album out. God can be a right cockshaft.
Firstly, Scenes From Hell, Sigh. When we first read Sigh’s biography (“Since their birth in 1990, Japanese metal band Sigh has pushed boundaries with each and every release“) we were more than a little concerned.
In fact, the thought of hearing a single note from a Japanese metal band who ‘push boundaries’ had us encasing our head in a block of concrete.
As hypoxia set in, we realised that there were probably more sensible ways of going about this.
Several hours of surgery later, and with our keen sense of hearing returned, we were once again asked to listen to Sigh’s new album. And do you know what? It ain’t all that bad. Now, we’re not saying you all should rush out and buy it. Apart from that being foolish in these days of online shopping, it would also make a lot of you hate us.
Because this is an album which is quite good within its genre. It won’t win Grammys, but it will excite a lot of teenage boys who wear black jeans and sew patches onto their leather jackets.
It’s metal with horns: literally, as most songs are accented by the non-trad-metal trumpet, playing some kind of Mariachi riff. And, leaning as it does towards the death end of the metal spectrum, it’s full of growly vocals which all end up sounding the same. But, you know, lots of people love this kind of thing. More power to them.
No, hang on: less power to them, or we’ll all end up walking round wearing black denim and a scowl.
This album is represented by the thought:
Japanese metal? Pushing boundaries? Oh shit, where’s that cocking cement mix?
Satan is my evil overlord. And/or I love black denim. Take me to Sigh on Amazon.
Secondly, Act Your Rage, The Doughboys. Terrible band name, horrible schoolboyish album title, good music.
The Doughboys first got together in 1966. Four years later, they were done. Then, thirty years after the breakup, they got back together and, finally, produced this, their second ever album.
Influences are obvious, and they don’t even try to hide them: Rolling Stones, The Animals, Muddy Waters, The Yardbirds. The Stones are strongest amongst these: lead singer Myke Scavone surely spends his days nervously awaiting a lawsuit from Jagger to drop through the letterbox.
But no matter how derivative their sound, the ‘Boys have produced a groovy album of Sixties soundalike songs. Go have a listen all you hepcats, it’s really quite charming. It’s represented by the thought:
Hey, this guy sings just like Mick Jagger. Wonder if he’s a controlling knobber, too?
I’m up for a bit of retro-rockin’ by the guys who were actually there. Take me to them, please.
Thirdly, Y Not, Ringo Starr. Because you can’t sing very well. Because the only reason you have a shred of a career left is due to the fact you used to play the drums for three really talented musicians. Because you throw the word “Liverpool” around like it’s the dearest thing to your heart, while actually you would rather bum yourself with a pineapple before living there. Because all of your songs sound exactly the same, and that is this: like something you wrote for Sgt. Pepper, which John and Paul listened too, laughed at behind your back, and then told you that it was brilliant but it “doesn’t really fit on this one. Maybe next time?” Because of THIS, you ungrateful, self-unaware, hypocritical piece of arse-gristle.
Here’s the thought:
Wow. That was terrible. And Ringo Starr really is a despicable piece of arse-gristle, isn’t he?
Dear record company PR folk: if you have anything better than this to offer – and let’s face it, a recording of Janet Street-Porter being buggered by a baboon would fit that category – then please contact us and let us know. Send your stuff here: Mango[at]SlantedScience.com
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