Garbage Can...in which one lucky staffer get to sift through the dregs of the TB head office and see what comes up. Will it be their lunch? Or a hot new band that has slipped through the cracks? Every update, one random TBer will be assigned the task of reviewing as much crap as I can stuff into a box. This month's victim...Young Steve Strange. Stay tuned to see who gets ten pounds of crap in a five pound LP mailer next...
Lately, one of my favorite TV shows (one of two I watch) has been the Ultimate Fighter reality series. The basic premise behind the show is that a bunch of mixed martial arts fighters gather for a training camp with real UFC champions as their coaches, and are eliminated one by one in fights at the end of each episode with the last fighter in each weight class winning a UFC contract at the end of the show. Watching Matt Hughes’ Blue Team take on Rich Franklin’s Green Team week in and week out has instilled in me a heightened appreciation for competition, which is why I’m approaching Garbage Can duty from the perspective of a tournament judge. Below is a battle so horrific it defies comprehension. It’s even worse than the time Tank Abbot fought Big Al in the skins match. I have randomly matched off all of the shit Rich sent me into random brackets, where one piece of trash will face another until we are left with a single winner. Match results will be determined by such criteria as “Worst Band Name,” “Worst Bass Sound,” “Band With the Goofiest Lead Singer,” and “Band That Sounds the Most Like Josh Rutledge Would Go Bananas Over Them.” The Ultimate Fighter’s tag line is “who will be the Ultimate Fighter?” Perhaps a fitting tag line for this competition would be: what will be the Ultimate Shitty Promo CD?
My Dad is a Dinosaur “S/T” vs. The Commercials “It’s Not What You Say…It’s How You Say It”
To tell the truth I thought My Dad is a Dinosaur would carry this round easily. I didn’t have a lot of info on the Commercials, but based on the scouting report (aka their press kit) I read on MDIAD (as I will refer to My Dad is a Dinosaur hereafter) they looked like early favorites to “win” this whole shebang. Take this stunner of an opening paragraph for example:
"Thaddeus Moyer never wanted to be a musician. He wanted to be a gym teacher. Then he got really drunk one night and recorded a cd-r full of completely unintelligible misanthropy under the guise of An Idiot & His Guitar, and there was no turning back."
Yes folks, you read that right. Thaddeus Moyer, one of the culprits behind MDIAD gave up his dream of a lifetime of gainful employment educating youngsters on the importance of physical education (and likely hiding cameras in the girls’ locker room) because “he got drunk one night and recorded a cd-r full of completely unintelligible misanthropy.” The fruit of that decision is this, the debut album from MDIAD. Joining Thad on vocal duties is his girlfriend Christine Young. This is important, as a reoccurring lyrical theme on this record is “thinly veiled references to each others’ genitalia.” You thought watching couples make out in public was uncalled for? Next time you see some young lovers drooling all over each other’s faces, just be thankful they didn’t subject you to a home-recorded CD full of songs about fucking each other. Oh, they also write songs about video games. Fuck, MDIAD look hard to beat.
However, closer inspection of the Commercials “It’s Not What You Say…” leads me to believe this might be a more interesting battle than I had originally thought. Why? For this simple reason: the first thing one sees upon opening the tray case of this CD are two emo dorks (both in glasses, only one sporting a gay ski-sweater) with the words “The Commercials Thank God” and “The Commercials Thank Family” next to them. Uh oh. I was ready for emo, but Christian Emo?!?!?!? But it gets worse. Not only are the Commercials a Christian emo band, they’re a Christian emo band whose frontman goes by the moniker “Tommy Gunns.” This ain’t gonna be pretty.
As Michael Buffer would say, let’s get it on!
Commercials: “Valentines are bitter sweet this year/and angels are crying/so say a prayer/Christmas Day is missing all its cheer/Christmas is lonely” from “This Heaven’s End.” Imagine that acoustic Green Day song that was all the rage a few years back being sung by an emo singer whose scrotum was being tickled with a feather while he laid down his vocals and you’d have a pretty good idea of what this sounds like.
My Dad is a Dinosaur: [In the voice of Tiny Tim and Tom Waits’ tone deaf love child] “Oh baby I’m gonna staaaaab yoooou/Yeah baby I’m gonna staaaaaab yoooou/ With my love sword/It’s filled with blood/but it won’t make you bleed” From “Love Sword" OR “Some women sell their bodies for money/they get paid to have sex/some people say that it is wrong/I don’t see anything wrong with that” from “Smile.”
Winner: MDIAD. Some might say that it isn’t fair for the Commercials to have two lyrical snippets in contention, but it was really too hard to narrow down which one is shittier. Not even the boy band backup vocals on “Heaven’s End” can put them over an atrocity the likes of “I’m gonna staaaaaab yooooou with my love sword.”
(MMDIAD 1 Commercials 0)
Worst Cover Art
The Commercials: The (appropriately named) Commercials cover features a picture of an emo girl in a jean jacket making a pouty face like her boyfriend took someone else to the Bright Eyes show. It reminds me of a Gap ad or something.
My Dad is a Dinosaur: While this cover is certainly bad – it’s a painting of a dinosaur holding Thad & Christine in his hands against a repugnant baby blue backdrop – I have to give them points for making me think of “Big Lizard in My Backyard” for the first time since I sold it age 16. I wonder how “Taking Retards to the Zoo” would sound these days? Probably not as bad as MDIAD.
Winner: The Commercials
(MDIAD 1, Commercials 1)
Worst Song Titles
My Dad is a Dinosaur: “Genital Warfare,” “Love Sword,” “Burgertime Chef,” “8-Bit Blues,” “Pee Wee.’ That last tune is an ode to Pee Wee Herman. It’s even worse than you could imagine.
The Commercials: “Today, the Farewell,” “A Color I Forget,” “This Heaven’s End,” “Put You Out of Our Misery.” I’m not sure what that last one is supposed to mean, but I’m damn sure that listening to the Commercials puts me in a state of misery not unlike having my nuts caught in a meat grinder. So far the only way I’ve found to end said misery is to turn off my CD player.
Winner: MDIAD. C’mon, how can you beat a song title as bad as “8-Bit Blues?”
(MDIAD: 2 The Commercials: 1)
Hot damn! There you have it ladies and germs, the winner of our first contest by a score of 2 to 1: My Dad is a Dinosaur! Congrats to the winner, and let’s move on to our next bout:
Chaz Matthews “Amazing Graceless” vs. The Atlantic Manor “The Trouble That You Left”
I knew I’d heard the name Chaz Matthews somewhere before, and his press kit reminded me where it was: he was the frontman of the Dimestore Haloes. Weren’t they that band that dressed up like Mike Ness, wore makeup like Mike Ness, and covered country songs like Mike Ness? Why yes, I believe they were. Said press kit was full of all sorts of interesting tidbits, such as the following: “Chaz Matthews is the former infamous Dimestore Haloes frontman/singer/songwriter and this is (sic) his great solo recordings.” Oh boy. I can hardly wait.
Next to Chaz Matthew’s press kit’s abundance of superlatives, the Atlantic Manor’s press kit was downright cryptic. All it divulged was that “the Atlantic Manor is the alias of one R. Sell” and that R. Sell’s “trademark[s]” are “minimalist dirges, shards of feedback, and traditional song craft.” Wow, thanks for narrowing it down so much R.
Most Unpromising Intro Track
Chaz Matthews: “Girl From Detox.” This tune opens up with an effeminate “hey hey,” breaks into some So Cal solo action, and contains lyrics such as “I told her about Johnny Thunders/she’d never heard of him/I told her all about that Naked Lunch and Junky/she’s my sweetest fix/I’m on her back like a monkey.” Did you know that “Johnny Thunders” and “heard of him” rhyme? Me either. Also, unless you’re talking “Chinese Rocks” or the Velvets or something, writing songs about Heroin is LAME.
The Atlantic Manor: “Positive Bleeding.” That being said, when I hear the limp country rock riff that starts off this song and the Dave Matthews-like vocals start ripping through my ears like a rusty screwdriver, “Girl From Detox” starts to sound like fucking “One Track Mind” in comparison. How bad is this? If Don Henley heard the Atlantic Manor I bet he’d make fun of R Sell for not having a set of balls.
(Chaz Matthews 0, The Atlantic Manor 1)
Worst Band Name
While there’s nothing that pisses me off as bad as the nonsensical names of most emo/indie rock bands, and the Atlantic Manor is certainly a shining example of this, I’m going to have to go with Chaz Matthews as the winner of this round. What the fuck kinda band name is Chaz Matthews anyway?
(Chaz Matthews 1, The Atlantic Manor 1)
Silliest Hair Cut
Atlantic Manor didn’t have the stones to include a picture of himself (my guess: dweeb with a ponytail and glasses) but Chaz Matthews was (un)kind enough to include FIVE pictures of himself and his retarded punk pompadour, so I have no choice but to disqualify Atlantic Manor and give this round to the winner of the battle, Mr. Chaz Matthews. Chaz will be happy to know that his victory in this round earns him a yearlong supply of pomade and Cover Girl mascara! There might even be some Chinese Rocks in it for you if you can make it past the next round Chazy Boy!
(Chaz Matthews 2, The Atlantic Manor 1)
And for our next contest we have:
Jet Black Combo “Out of Control” vs. The Green Chair “Michelangelo”
Again, I cannot overstate the importance of starting out strong with a press kit. If a reviewer reads a disparaging description of a band at the start of their own press kit, he’s likely to toss that CD in the trash faster than a credit card application. Prison Jazz Records, who also brought us My Dad is a Dinosaur, evidently believe the opposite to be true. Why else would they start off a press kit with a description like this?:
"The Green Chair was born…in the form of a cryptic, self-titled cassette of sound collages and field recordings assembled in one afternoon…the cassette….was greeted with a massive wave of indifference, colored with a few small patches of outright indignation."
Now if that doesn’t make you want to listen to the new the Green Chair album, I dunno what would.
As for Jet Black Combo, their press kit really tells you all you need to know:
Through intoxicated drives to pain staked declarations of love we are sucked deeper and deeper for every track as in the red blooded celebration of burnt rubber and hard steel “Back to Bonneville” and the moving lighter craving duet “The only one”, (sic) featuring Sweet Mary.
Not to put too fine a point on it, but what the fuck is that guy talking about?!?!? I did manage to discern that Jet Black Combo is from Europe and that they play some form of modern rockabilly. What more do you need to know? How about this: Jet Black Combo “rose from the ashes of the band once known as 69-Hard. Well known for their outrageous acts, the band left no crowd unmoved.” Oh shit.
Worst Bass Sound
Like all practitioners of modern ‘billy, Jet Black Combo use a standup bass, whereas the Green Chair just have some chick playing a regular old electric bass like it was the year 2005 or something.
(The Green Chair 0, Jet Black Combo, 1)
Most Potential to Be Used By the US Government in Future Standoffs Such as Waco or When They Tried to Get Manuel Noriega That One Time
Words can’t do justice to the horrors waiting for the unsuspecting soul unlucky enough to have the Jet Black Combo find their way to their CD player, but I’ll be damned if they don’t make Rev Horton Heat sound downright authentic by comparison. The Green Chair just sound like Pavement.
(The Green Chair 0, Jet Black Combo 2)
Our first sweep! Jet Black Combo easily defeats the Green Chair in every category of suckiness imaginable. Oh shit...that means I have to listen to this again. Fuck.
Sixfinger “East Side All-Stars Play Hard” vs. Sweatmaster “Tom Tom Bullet”
Sixfinger’s promo sheet doesn’t reveal much that makes me think they have what it takes to suck in an interesting way (“Their power pop slash (sic) emotional rock sound explores memories of youth...a band where not only music, but also message are the things that really matter”). However, the note that accompanied this CD makes me think the head of PR for Sixfinger’s label is more than a little out of touch with reality. Here it is in its entirety:
Dear Great Zine Leader,
Calling a promo of a D-grade emo band’s new album a “privilege” is like calling a bullet in the stomach a “privilege.” Saying it is a “great treat” is akin to saying a gallon of salt poured in the wound caused by the aforementioned bullet is a “great treat.” One thing is for sure. You better believe I’m sending Adam Morgan a link to this column.
In your hands is the latest installment in the Rapscallion Records catalogue. With the privilege of receiving this CD we ask of you a few simple things:
1) You review it in your publication
2) You send us the review when it is finished.
Those are the only requirements to keep receiving this great treat.
Sweatmaster’s bio didn’t do a very good job of describing what they sound like, but it did manage to use the word “boogaloo” once, so there’s a (very) slim chance Soriano might be into this.
Song Title That Most Makes Me Think These Guys Take Themselves Too Seriously
Sixfinger: “Some Stories Write Themselves”
Sweatmaster: “Evolution Never Came This Way”
Sixfinger’s got this one.
(Sixfinger: 1, Sweatmaster: 0)
Song Title That Most Makes Me Think These Guys Don’t Take Themselves Seriously Enough
Sixfinger: “The Angry Dragon Strikes Back”
Sweatmaster: “Song With No Words”
Sweatmaster by a nose.
(Sixfinger 1, Sweatmaster 1)
Band Whose Name Most Makes Me Think of a Trucker’s Ass
(Sixfinger 1, Sweatmaster 2)
The Upskirts “Tube Top Tease” vs. Jukebox Zeros “Welcome to Rutsville”
This matchup seems like it’s destined to be a wash. Neither band had anything in its press kit as hilarious as Jet Black Combo or anything, but I’ve got a sneaking suspicion both are pretty shitty. Let’s get right into it.
Band That Takes the Longest To Get To the Goddamn Point
According to their press kits, both bands are trying to be pop bands. The Upskirts’ tune “Martha Stewart” takes a full minute to get to the first chorus, but the Jukebox Zeros (I refuse the sacrilege of referring them to them by the abbreviation “The Zeros” like their press kit does) take an ungodly minute and a half to get to the chorus of their lead off track “Static, Static.”
The Jukebox Zeros have this round, but both bands meander around waaaaaay too long before getting to the point.
(Jukebox Zeros: 1, Upskirts 0)
Band That Sounds the Most Like Josh Rutledge Would Go Bananas Over Them
Upskirts have everything that would make Josh Rutledge swoon: wussy songs with overdramatic hooks, asinine song titles like “Martha Stewart” and “Tube Top,” plus they have TWO annoyingly whiney singers who should never have been let anywhere near a microphone. Based on all of that, it would appear academic that the Upskirts would walk away with this round, but a closer look at the Jukebox Zeros press kit throws a monkey wrench in the Upskirts dream of becoming the worst band of the Terminal Boredom fall season. Stuck right between an endorsement from the Philadelphia City Paper’s a.d. amorosi (what they couldn’t hold a séance and get ee cummings to write reviews for them?) and RFTCs’ John Reis (who just lost all the credibility those Crime, Testors, and Penetrators rerelases garnered him) is this effusive bit of praise from good ‘ol JR himself, “Jukebox Zeros represent everything that’s great about rock n roll: hooks, energy, attitude, smokin’ guitar leads, and an air of unadulterated FUN.” Well, at least he didn’t call them whiskey soaked or anything.
(Jukebox Zeros: 2, Upskirts: 0)
Winner: Since Jukebox Zeros won the first two rounds back to back, there’s no way for the Upskirts to pull out the victory. Better luck next time guys.
Thunderlip “S/T” vs. The Cheats “Cheap Pills”
Saving what very well could be the best for last we have the mighty Thunderlip facing off against the thoroughly mediocre looking Cheats. The Thunderlip CD was actually not a part of the parcel of crap Rich sent to me. I got it in the mail about six months ago in an envelope addressed to “Blank Generation c/o Steven Strange.” For those of you who don’t know, Blank Generation was the zine that a lot of us TBers cut our teeth at a few years back. The last update was sometime at the end of 2003, but it was barely limping along for much of its last year. I guess someone failed to inform the Lucid Records promo staff of this.
Well, they can’t really be faulted for things like not keeping track of whether or not a zine has been active in the past two years before sending promos out when they’ve got a hot act on their hand like Thunderlip. Just take a look at the following excerpts from Thunderlip’s press kit:
You want to Rock? Seriously, put this record on. Words to describe this record: KILLER, ROCK & ROLL, HOLY SH*T!
Nothing says rock n roll badass like censoring the word “shit” in your press kit. But it gets better. Much better:
"The band has stickers that say “THUNDERLIP – we put the cock back in rock.” They’re not kidding…from their spandex wearing sweaty shirtless lead singer that sings like Ian Svenonius (of Nation of Ulysses) would if he fronted a cock rock or southern rock band in the 80’s."
Oh fuck. This is gonna be more hilarious than that scene in the Metal Years when Ozzy talked about how he had quit doing drugs while shaking so badly he poured an entire glass of orange juice on his counter and only got like and inch or two in the glass. Read on:
"They’re from Wilmington, North Carolina and they play some serious solo laden RAW SOUTHERN ROCK! You will hear this once, see them when they come to town, and tell all your friends that they missed one of the greatest new bands in ROCK & ROLL today. No doubt they will become one of the best known and greatest rock bands of this decade."
One thing I can totally agree with here: if it wasn’t for the fact that I’ll probably have to listen to it again in a later round, there is no chance in hell I’d listen to this CD more than once. Two more random tidbits make these guys seem even more ridiculous:
-"Their singer wears spandex and fur coats, no shirt and they blow over every audience they play for!
What exactly any of this has to do with a zine focusing primarily on punk rock is anyone’s guess. One thing is for certain though: this might just be the most unintentionally comical record I’ve ever received for review. Any of you who have ever put in any time reviewing records knows how much ground a statement like that covers.
-"Their video was shot on a BATTLESHIP – the USS North Carolina in their hometown of WILMINGTON, NC."
I know it’s bad promoting to make a fight appear too one sided before it starts, but since the Cheats didn’t think to include a press kit with their CD all I have to judge them by is the rising sun flag (or kyokujitsu-ki) motif on their cover and the nonsensical katakana exclamation "neosu!" (which would translate to “neos” if anything in English).
Goofiest Song Titles
Thunderlip: Oh man. Pretty much every song on here is fodder for a competition like this, but here are some of the best, “Meat the Snake,” “Leather Forever,” “Viking Love Song,” “Gonna Die For My Rock And Roll,” “Sons of Thunder,” and last but not least “Laser Hawk.” That last one has me particularly puzzled. What manner of bird is the Laser Hawk? Is it a focused concentration of laser energy in the form of a hawk? Or is it a regular hawk that has the power to shoot lasers from its eyes like Cyclops of X-Men fame? A quick glance at the lyric sheet didn’t do much to illustrate what exactly the Laser Hawk looks like, but I did learn a couple of things: 1) “we share fates worse than death in the hands of Laser Hawk,” and 2) “no man is quite safe in the gaze of Laser Hawk.” Damn. That’s some scary shit. Despite fearing for my safety (not to mention a possible fate worse than death) I nevertheless pressed on in my quest for knowledge of the Laser Hawk’s true form for the sake of YOU the loyal TB reader who has made it through ten pages of this shit already. However, this quest led me to something more terrifying than I could have imagined. You see, I managed to obtain an actual picture of the Laser Hawk himself. Feast your eyes on his majesty below.
Shortly after I obtained this picture of the “face of sin” known as the Laser Hawk, it was pulled from Thunderlip’s Myspace profile. No word yet as to why, but I can only imagine a creature as mind-bogglingly powerful as the Laser Hawk doesn’t take to kindly to having his visage broadcast over the internet where every Tom, Dick, and Harry looking for Hawk porn or Laser Tag snuff films can come across it in the course of their nightly Googling.
The Cheats: "5X Loser." C’mon guys, you’re gonna have to try harder than that against motherfucking Thunderlip!
(Thunderlip: 1, Cheats: 0)
Biggest Cornball of a Lead Singer:
Thunderlip’s Chuck Krueger is a real piece of work. As I mentioned before, he is known for wearing spandex and fur coats. His voice ranges from a high pitched wail to a guttural growl that sounds like a monster tuck engine backfiring. I bet he’d take that as a compliment.
The Cheats’ Todd Cheats is a chubby dude with lotsa tats on his arms and spiky hair. He’s so porky in fact that he shoulda called himself “Todd Eats” and changed the name of the band to “the Eats.” He sings like I imagine the dudes from US Bombs and Dropkick Murphys do. On the back cover his eyes are bulging out like he just walked in on someone eating the last of his pork rinds. However, I don’t think he ever penned a lyric as corny as “in the days of kings I flew dragons/I’d snatch you up with all your maids” like Chuck from Thunderlip did.
(Thunderlip: 2 The Cheats, 0)
Winner: Like there was any doubt Thunderlip wasn’t going to take this one handily.
And with that we’ve concluded round one! Let’s not waste any more time and get right into the thick of things with our first round two match-up!
For round two the rules of our contest have been slightly altered. This round the match-ups will be determined in one sudden death battle.
Jet Black Combo “Out of Control” vs. My Dad Is A Dinosaur “S/T”
Band With The Most Songs That Could Double As Gay Porno Titles
In this category Jet Black Combo’s got “Fat Boy Bop,” “Devils Train,” and “White Knuckle Danger.” Although it’s technically against the rules, if the JBC were to merely drop one of the “n’s” in “Back to Bonneville” they would have this round all tied up quicker than Gary Glitter trying to get in on a game of Twister at an elementary school. Jet Black Combo has a secret weapon, however, in the fact that they “rose from the ashes of the band once known as 69-Hard.” Under most circumstances it would be nigh impossible for a band featuring ex-members of a band called 69-Hard to lose any contest of gayness.
Unfortunately for Jet Black Combo, these aren’t most circumstances. MYDIAD may have come up with the most homosexual song title I’ve ever heard this side of Pansy Division in the form of “Banana in Your Fruit Basket.” Add to that tunes with such man-love friendly titles as “Love Sword,” “Cheeks,” “Genital Warfare,” “Blood Mess,” “Balloon Knot,” “Pee Wee,” and “Pickle Ball” and you’ve got a record whose homosexuality simply will not be denied!
Winner: My Dad Is A Dinosaur
Chaz Matthews “Amazing Graceless” vs. Jukebox Zeros “Welcome to Rutsville"
Band With the Most Over the Top Hyperbole Penned by Josh Rutledge In Their Press Kit
I already quoted JR’s take on the Jukebox Zeros representing “everything that’s great about rock n roll,” but allow me to extract another little gem from his review:
"Their sound is a perfect mix of old-time rock n roll and trashed-out junkie punk; yet unlike so many bands of their ilk, they manage to make music that doesn’t seem contrived, generic or utterly pointless"
Seems like quite the gushing hype-job, huh? Just wait till you check out his take on Chaz Matthews! Here is JR’s review of “Amazing Graceless”:
"The songwriting here is as good as I’ve ever heard on a rock n roll recording. I’m talking a sublime hooky splendor a la the BEAT ANGELS and AMERICAN HEARTBREAK. Really! Pop lovers will be awed by the marks of melodic craftsmanship on display here: great catchy choruses; sharp, stinging chord changes; juicy hooks that would have made JIM ELLISON proud, and sensational, stick-in-your-head melodies that you’ll be whistling and humming for days. And of course, there are the soulful, guttural vocals that you either love or hate by now."
Read that first line again. Rutledge is calling the songwriting on CHAZ MATTHEWS’ debut album as good as any he’s ever heard on a rock n roll record. When I think of great rock songwriters there are a few names that pop into my mind: Townsend, Berry, Davies, Childish, Mick & Keef, Kuepper & Bailey, Fink & Fifi, Darrin Radio X, and Otsuki from the Registrators to name a few. The name Chaz Matthews wouldn’t come up until somewhere between Tad and whoever it was that wrote songs for Seven Mary Three. In other words, I could spend every waking minute just thinking of different songwriters in descending order of quality and it would take me YEARS before I came to the name Chaz Matthews. The fact that someone would put the author of the line, “she told me all about that Naked Lunch and Junky/I’m her sweetest fix, she’s on my back like a monkey” up there with the people who wrote “I’m Stranded” just boggles my mind. I did get a chuckle out of him mentioning American Heartbreak as thought they were some godhead band or something though. Man, those Hitlist guys hyped up the lamest shit sometimes.
Winner: Chaz Matthews.
Sweatmaster “Tom Tom Bullet” vs. Thunderlip “s/t”
Tuffest Sounding Song About an Animal
Sweatmaster’s entry into this contest is a little ditty called “Dirty Rabbit.” Thunderlip, of course, is being represented by the mighty Laser Hawk. The Laser Hawk obliterates the filth right off the Dirty Rabbit and after that introduces him to a fate worse than death. That’s right, the Laser Hawk made the Dirty Rabbit listen to Sweatmaster.
Due to a lack of proper planning in the bracket making phase of this competition we are left with three finalists. While regular sports might go to a wild card (and since I know next to nothing about team sports, take that might with an entire block of salt) a quick look to the world of pro wrestling provides a solution top our problem. For our third and final round we go a Fatal Three Way elimination style match-up between Thunderlip, MYDIAD and Chaz Matthews. Since an all out war between three discs this horrendous could create a black hole due to the sheer force of suckiness involved, this round will be determined in one sudden death round.
Thunderlip vs. My Dad Is A Dinosaur vs. Chaz Matthews
Most Potential to Garner a Large Audience of People Who Know Nothing About Music
I don’t think MDIAD will be attracting any audience besides the deaf (which one has to assume the head of their label is) and Chaz Matthews is probably going to have to content himself with an audience of mall punks and a few scattered dudes with a yen for bad pop punk. Thunderlip, on the other hand, have the potential to gather a Nashville Pussy circa 1999 like following if their label head can pay off CMJ or someone to give them a good review.
Winner and YOUR November Garbage Can Champion: THUNDERLIP!
Congratulations boys! You’ll be pleased to know that you have won a prize that most unsolicited promos can only dream of: I won’t sell your CD to Treehouse Records once this issue of TB goes online! No, I’m going to be holding onto the Thunderlip CD for quite a long time. After all, whenever I get sick of music it always helps to listen to something unimaginably shitty in order to start appreciating the good stuff again. Speaking of which, after listening to all of this shit, I think I have to go on a 4 hour Teengenerate binge or something. I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I asked for this. No idea at all. - Steve Strange
To read past installments of Garbage Can go here.
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