Thursday, April 21, 2016

Scatman

WHAT YOU KNOW HIM FOR: Fecal fetish.




BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?



Okay, yes, this blog entry exists solely for a poop joke. Technically, Scatman John had another hit, but I bet you can’t name it without the aid of Google. So as far as I’m considered, he qualifies.

Scatman’s World is apparently a concept album about a magical place called Scatland. Which makes me wonder why it isn’t called Scatland instead? Is Scatland a country on Scatman’s World? Is this planet near Spice World?

One thing is for certain, though. This is a world dictated by two things: overwhelming positivity and scat singing. No, really. Every song follows the same formula. Verses reminiscent of those motivational speakers your school would herd into the auditorium for, followed by choruses of scat lyrics that are less embarrassing. All over generic early 90s dance beats.

Lately, I feel my blog entries have been getting too long, but this one will probably stay short. Six tracks in, and I don’t foresee any deviations that will be worth commenting on.



And I was right.


FINAL VERDICT: As far as dystopian futures go, Scatland isn’t the most dystopian. But I still prefer Spice World. Ginger Spice is hot.

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

DISHWALLA

WHAT YOU KNOW THEM FOR: Blasphemy.



Also, inspiring homophobia.




BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?



Back in the 90s, suggesting that God was a female was some heavy stuff. Christians were outraged and demanded a boycott of Dishwalla, and some of them even stood outside Dishwalla concerts with torches and pitchforks. Okay, none of that happened, but those couple of lines seemed to get more attention than the music. But in all fairness, the music was that type of bland pretty boy pop that got swept under the “alternative” label because they had guitars.

And boy, were they pretty. Almost Duran Duran pretty. In fact, I think Anal Cunt might be onto something. I feel myself going gay for Dishwalla (although it’s been proven to be a scientific impossibility that anyone could go gay for Everclear).

Rewatching the video, I think the drummer now works at the American Eagle at the Boulevard Mall. I should ask him the next time I’m at the mall. “Excuse me, weren’t you the drummer from Dishwalla?” Actually, I might just start asking that of random people at the mall.

Honestly, this music is so non-descript, I’m not sure if I like it or not. So far, I don’t love it, I doubt I’ll ever listen to this album again. But I also don’t hate it yet, I’m definitely not running to turn it off. I’m not even all that bored. It’s just kind of there.

By the time we reach the hit three tracks in, I sense a pattern. Laid back grooves with near-catatonic vocals save for shorts bursts of actual energy towards the end of the song. There doesn’t seem to be much effort in attempting to craft something memorable. Really, I think the only reason I even remember “Counting Blue Cars” is because it used to get played every hour, on the hour.

Of course, I write that, then the next track “Explode” actually attempts to rock (and mostly succeeds). I remember that at the time, I thought Dishwalla’s follow-up single “Charlie Brown’s Parents” was better than “Counting Blue Cars,” and that still remains the case.

And then we’re back to the not rocking wah-wah guitars. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard a band abuse the wah-wah pedal as much as these guys. Then back to rocking then back to not then back again. Are these guys a good band or not? They somehow simultaneously rock and suck. Which I guess makes their music sort of complicated, except it’s really just kind of simple. Man, I am so existentially freaking out right now.


FUN/NOT FUN FACT: “Miss Emma Peel” is about one of the main characters of the old British TV show The Avengers. Dishwalla was actually featured on the soundtrack to the movie adaptation, but not with that song. I never saw the movie, despite the promise of Uma Thurman in a skin-tight leather catsuit. But I had the issue of Playboy that featured paparazzi photos of Uma on a topless beach. This issue greatly angered Nicholas Cage, who wrote a very stern letter to the magazine.


FINAL VERDICT: Don’t worry about what those bullies in Anal Cunt think. Listening to Dishwalla will not make you gay. It will, however, enter you into a state of limbo where things neither are nor aren’t.

Sunday, April 10, 2016

THE REMBRANDTS

WHAT YOU KNOW THEM FOR: Letting you know that you’re in for 23 minutes of wacky hi-jinks.



BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?



TV theme songs are a dying art. Some think it’s due to networks selling more ad space, causing the average length of shows to shorten. But the truth is more sinister. There is a TV theme curse. Think about it. How many artists who composed a TV theme have gone on to have a meaningful career?

The curse is so strong that it killed Chuck "Walker:Texas Ranger" Norris’ career until an Internet meme revived it. Waylon Jennings (Dukes Of Hazzard) avoided the curse by way of being Waylon Jennings. The Waitresses (Square Pegs) would’ve avoided the curse if not for collapsing under the weight of their own awesomeness. And sadly, drugs killed the Banana Splits before they could go on to become the next Beatles.

But for most, their fate is that of the Rembrandts, a fate that is worse than that of a regular one-hit wonder: spending their career known only for a 30 second jingle. Seriously, no one knows the rest of the words to the Friends theme song.

Confession. I’ve always hated Friends. But I loved How I Met Your Mother. Odd, considering that HIMYM was just Friends for the millennial generation. But hey, HIMYM had Neil fucking Patrick fucking Harris. Plus alumni from Buffy and Freaks And Geeks. What did Friends have? A monkey. And he got fired after the first season for being more charismatic than David Schwimmer.

But I promise I won’t let my hatred of Friends taint my review of The Rembrandts’ LP. I’m sure once I listen to it, I’ll find more solid reasons to hate it. Like the fact that the title isn’t nearly as clever as they think it is, for starters.

The first track is called “End Of The Beginning” and the opening chords already have me wishing it was the beginning of the end. Did people back in the 90s actually like this type of music? I mean, I was alive in the 90s and remember crap like this clogging up the VH1 airwaves, but I don’t think I ever met anyone who actually liked it. Who the hell owned Hootie & The Blowfish’s Cracked Rearview? Someone had to, right? Was it all part of some evil Communist plot? Fucking Ruskies.

Imagine if Dave Pirner was jamming with Third Eye Blind, covering all the Beatles and R.E.M. songs you hate. That would probably be more entertaining. This sounds like what your parents probably listen to. Although, I’m a parent now. Does that mean one day, he’ll say Cursive and Rise Against sound like the crap parents listen to? Well, he and his friends best keep off my lawn.

There’s a song called “Easy To Forget.” Allow me to pay The Rembrandts a compliment. They’re writing my punchlines for me. “My Own Way” sort of cribs the intro to “18 & Life,” and no one’s ever earned street cred by trying to sound like Skid Row. Maybe I’m being too harsh on The Rembrandts, but three tracks in (wait, I’m only three tracks in?! I feel like I’ve been stuck listening to this for hours. And there’s still 12 more songs to go!), and they haven’t done anything Fountains of Wayne didn’t do a billion times better.

I’m going to sleep now. Wake me up if anything interesting happens.

FINAL VERDICT: I really, really hate Friends. I understand that’s not The Rembrandts’ fault, but if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.