Buddyhead is a lot like herpes. It happened by accident, only pops up once in a while at the worst possible moment, and you can never get rid of it. NEVER. The more you scratch, the more it burns. Just like we know one in every four people have herpes, we also know that when we haven’t updated our gossip column for a few months, or when it’s halfway through the month of January and we STILL haven’t posted our year-end “Best and Worst Records List”, you say to yourself, “Finally those self-righteous, Hollywood-phony fun-vacuums have decided to spare us from their soapbox bullshit once and for all!” and then WHAM, like pissing in the ice tray or sticking a dick in the mashed potatoes, we put up our “2005 Best and Worst Records List”, and neg on your party vibes again. BOOYAHKAI!
As in years past, it’s the same ol’ small group writing this year’s list. Actually, this year we had a little extra help from Josh Homme-o. Josh even broke an old list taboo by appearing on not only one of the records on the “best” column, but one on the “worst” as well. That whole “no bands with Buddyhead dudes in em” rule didn’t really apply with him, cos to be on the “staff”, first you hafta play “Who wants a tour of Johnson County?” and he was never drunk enough to let it happen.
As always, we want to make it clear that we’re not writing this anonymously, or hiding behind fake names. For all the disgruntled steakheads who wanna beat us up, we’ve decided to make it easier for them this year by including photos of us. The point being, we don’t live under a rock on Mars. If you don’t like what we say, don’t flood our inbox with death threats again this year saying stuff like, “If only I knew what you pussies looked like!” Now you know the deal. However, if you do feel the inclination to kick our ass, we’d encourage you to take on either Aaron or Travis, cos they’re the smallest. Tom is built like Hacksaw Jim Duggan and will tear off your arms, barbecue them, and then serve them for dinner at his restaurant, and Josh is 9 feet tall and goes to court all the time for beating up dudes in punk bands that are bigger than him.
The “Rules”:
No re-issues, “best of” albums, live albums, previously unreleased material collections, Buddyhead releases, or bands with Buddyhead dudes in them.
Compiled & written by: Aaron North, Travis Keller, Tom Apostolopoulos, and Josh Homme
The 20 Best Albums Of 2005
Depeche Mode
Playing the Angel
In 2005, Gahan and company scored the perfect soundtrack for the entire gay population to gyrate to while snorting blow laced with cum out of the bloated beefhole of some dude named Lance (“personal trainer” by day, “inspector of manholes” by night) and then wrap up the evening by playing “flesh pretzel”. “Playing The Angel” being their strongest effort in well over a decade, The Mode are back to buttfuck all that newcomer poser retro eighties crap people get all Teen Magazine hot flash-moist vagina on. This shit slays all that fashion core, hipster, disco-beat bullshit you listen to while you hang out on Myspace filling out Q&A’s that slyly signal your love of getting gang banged by dudes with bad swoosh over haircuts and ironic mustaches.
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
Howl
By trading in their Jesus and Mary Chain idolization for gospel and blues rooted songwriting, these cats stripped down their sound and found it at the same time. Less poser, more… non-poser? A breath of fresh air in an age where more and more perfectly manicured and polished pop-rock dominates the airwaves and contributes to our being what you perceive as assholes because we don’t want to suck off any member of The Killers. Did we mention the drummer wants to play stinky pinky with Travis and give him a ride on the fairy-go-round? That dude slays so many guys, his O-ring is completely blown out and distended. It kinda looks like a baked ziti.
The New Pornographers
Twin Cinema
Pop songwriting at it’s absolute best. If you’re already into stuff like The Shins, this is kinda like that except these guys are from Canada, the geek fader is a little louder in the mix, and these guys hang out with Nardwuar The Human Serviette. Plus they’ve got the word PORNO in their name.
Neil Diamond
12 Songs
After another sold out tour where Neil ended every night by stacking moms in his hotel room, he decided that this time while he’s off the road, he’d make a record instead of hanging out in Vegas in a gold sequined jumpsuit, touching more pussies than branches you have on your family tree. So he hooks up with the world’s fattest vegan, Rick Rubin, and they rent a house in the hills where some 70’s hippie orgy that went murderously wrong took place. They light candles, smoke pot, listen to the reels of “Reign In Blood” at deafening volumes while Neil plays “air bass” and Rubin watches while he puts away 8 gallons of Tofutti, grow shitty beards, eat straw and tree bark, and avoid showering at all costs. Ultimately they end up with a killer record that brings Neil “back to his roots”. Don’t worry though, he’s not selling out the scene. He’s still gonna pork moms and feather his hair.
Oasis
Don’t Believe The Truth
Quote of the year: “Jack White looks like Zorro on donuts.”- Noel Gallagher.
Black Mountain
Black Mountain
More Canadians. I don’t know why we keep letting this shit slide. Apparently without adequate forms of entertainment, fear of gunshot wounds, and “modern appliances”, those savages up there have way more free time to make good music like this while they’re chillin’ in their igloos. Did we mention the singer looks like “The Dude” from The Big Lebowski?
Gang Of Four
Return The Gift
This sounds like a really bad idea… an old band re-recording their older songs to re-release as a “new” album… but Gang Of Four beat the odds and delivered one of the most exciting records this year. It’s a lot like when you run into an old girlfriend you haven’t seen in years, but unlike all the other dickpigs who got fat and gnar-gnar and turned into housewife soccer moms, this one got some plastic surgery, works out, and dresses even better than she did before, and now yer all up on her shit again… pulling out all the old photos, calling her and hanging up, and remembering all the good ol’ times. So sometimes your favorite new thing is the old thing just spruced up a bit. Oh, did we mention every copy of this record comes with a real American one-dollar bill? Serious! We bought rolling papers with ours… thanks mates.
Queens of the Stone Age
Lullabies To Paralyze
On the eve of this album’s release, every dorkus malorkus on the internet fretted about what Queens would be like after the scary bald guy with the goatee got kicked out. Subsequent tours would leave other crybabies bemoaning the fact that the “three singer era” of the band was over. The music did the talking on this one, placing this album alongside the other best Queens of the Stone Age album, the first one, coincidentally both of which did not involve the scary bald guy with the goatee or three singers, just the scary tall red-headed guy who will knock you the fuck out if you accidentally step on his toe or something.
Neil Young
Prairie Wind
Our third and final Canadian to be included on this years “best of” list, Neil put the trains down long enough to bust out another incredible record.
Blood On The Wall
Awesomer
These kids look like they might have met in shop class, after school in the 4H club, or maybe even one of those schools where only transplanted foreigners and short bussers go to… you know, the ones where they spend 6 months on “sharing” and “putting your toys where they belong”. But anyway, Blood On The Wall play some pretty killer fucked up rock n’ roll, and we dig ‘em. Besides them looking a little Gnar-Gnar Binks, the guitar and bass player are also brother and sister (which may explain the retard factor). Yep, just what we need, another band with siblings in it. This record sounds like these kids are way into The Pixies, Sonic Youth, The Kids of Widney High, and maybe even a lil’ F.Y.P. They might even be more stoked on the 90’s than we are.
Fiona Apple
Extraordinary Machine
We like Fiona and all, but did anyone get a load of those turds picketing her record label after they shelved her album cuz it didn’t have a “hit”. It looked like a small gang of Starbucks employees that got stuck with bad lattes for breakfast and used their lunch break to try to “stick it to the man”. You know Fiona was chillin’ at home in her huge pad in the hills, naked all jungle-muffed out, crying at the mirror, listening to “The Chronic”, and totally bumming that her fan base consisted of a bunch of overweight bedwetting virgins. But yeah, truth be told, all we really care about is that her next video has her back in her skimpy underwear, rolling around on the carpet with her happy sacks hangin’ out, and skinny-dipping in the hot tub like she was back in the good old days. Oh, and Fiona… if you need someone to roll around on the carpet with, you know who to call!
Jack Rose
Kensington Blues
Instrumental 12 string and lap guitar ragtime, ragas, and folk. Did you just get scared? The easiest and laziest reference point here would be John Fahey, whom coincidentally enough, Jack covers on this album. Check it out pussy.
The Rolling Stones
A Bigger Bang
If this album had come out by a young, scruffy, hip looking bunch of kids, the music press would have tripped over their own boners to get them on the cover of their magazine first. But coming from The Stones, it was largely panned as not being worthy enough to stand by their older classics by the same journalists who get sweaty palms every time that bubble-butt from My Chemical Romance flashes his horse gums. Come on, give these geezers a break! They’ve been GOING OFF for DECADES, and have touched more pussies than the world’s longest working gynecologist! They win!
Brakes
Give Blood
This is the keyboard player from British Sea Power along with some of his best mates from Tenderfoot and Electric Soft Parade. Weird Scottish dudes singing catchy tongue-in-cheek songs about bailing hay, snorting speed, chasing girls, losing their minds on MDMA, and smashing up their lives. Their vibe kinda reminds us of Beehive & The Barracudas if they had weirdo Euro accents and thought soccer was called football. Plus they do a cover of The Jesus & Mary Chain’s “Sometimes Always” and that old country song “Jackson” (with some help from that hot blonde girl from The Duke Spirit on vocals) so you know these guys are cool.
Bruce Springsteen
Devils & Dust
Every decade or so The Boss puts out one of his “fake Dylan” records, which are essentially collections of stripped down narrative folk tunes. We figured that since it was against our own rules to put all the killer Dylan stuff that came out this year on our list, we’d include Bruce’s aping of Zimmerman here. That doesn’t mean “Devils & Dust” doesn’t stand on it’s own, a companion to his records “Nebraska” and “The Ghost of Tom Joad”. We’re pretty sure homeboy only does these solo records so that he can go out on tour without Steve Van Zandt stealing all the hungry cougars (older women on the prowl) for himself. We vote that Bruce and Neil Diamond book a tour together so they can double up on cougs and pumas (cougars in training). They can bill it as the “Stackin’ cougs across the world” tour.
The Gris Gris
For The Season
Straight from the asspounding capital of the world, these Frisco dudes are getting jam-tastic on their sophomore release like it’s 1967, and proudly show influences of The 13th Floor Elevators, The Velvet Underground, Mayo Thompson, Spacemen 3 and years of bong-rippage. “For The Season” is gonna make beardharts (bearded Devendra super-fans) feel like frat guys do when they shotgun beers and date rape sorority girls… like a crispy hundy between some stripper’s sweaty fake butter bags!
Low
The Great Destroyer
On their seventh studio record, Low are keeping it interesting by changing things up. With “The Great Destroyer”, they’ve delivered their most accessible and “polished” album ever. This time around they’ve sped up the tempos a tad, turned their amps up a little louder and even started singing! Nothing like having something to sing along to, eh kids? The old grunge-heads over at Sub Pop should be fully amped cuz they ended up with an album chock full of lush and darkly dissonant pop songs that are the perfect soundtrack for destroying someone’s area. Yes! This record will totally get you jacked off!
Elliot Smith
From A Basement On A Hill 2 (bootleg)
We’re normally not into the idea of including bootlegs on our list, but we had to let this one slide. The fact that this material hasn’t been officially released, and possibly never will be, is a tragedy. These are the songs Elliott’s family took off “From A Basement On A Hill” (which was supposed to be a double album) because of their subject matter (i.e. drugs, one song is called “abused”, etc.) after his unfortunate death. These great songs only solidify the fact that Elliott Smith was the most important singer/songwriter our generation has seen thus far.
Izzy Stradlin
Like A Dog
While every redneck Guns N’ Roses fan with a Chevrolet and Axl Rose tattoo sits on their hands waiting for the first real Gn’R album since “Use Your Illusions”, Izzy Stradlin is on his sixth solo album since quitting the band. Admittedly, “Like A Dog” probably isn’t one of the absolute greatest albums that quietly came out this year, but we’ll use this entry as more of a “lifetime achievement” award for the dude possibly more responsible for the classic Guns N’ Roses sound than any other member. Izzy was always the coolest dude in the band, wrote all the best songs, danced the hardest with Mr. Brownstone, and jumped off the sinking ship before dudes ended up playing shows in hockey jerseys with corn-rolls or formed bands with Scott Weiland. Every Izzy solo record has a bunch of solid jams and is worth checking out. Plus he fuckin shreds it up skating!
R Kelly
Trapped In The Closet
The first time we watched this dvd, our initial reaction in the opening minutes was so stupefying, that we were certain this would be going on our “worst of” list. 20 minutes later, we were so enthralled with the lunacy, we didn’t know what to think anymore. By the end, we were more confident about it going on our “best of” list than anything else that was released in 2005. Sure, it’s not a conventional “album”, (it happens to be on the dvd format) but it is an album lengths worth of music, even if it is just a verse extending for over half an hour. Anyway, we urge everybody to experience this phenomenon for themselves, and for those who have been foolish enough so far as to not experience this dvd, let us outline the 7 stages you will go through while watching this “musical”. (that’s what R calls it!)
1) DISBELIEF
Noooo fuckkking wayyyy… This dramatic cartoon of a douche drinker actually spent time making this music and accompanying video, and then sat back, looked at his posse, pussy, and ball licking staff (not his dick) and said, “Fuck yeah”. I know, crazy.
2) ANGER
What? Is he fucking insane? Was everyone afraid to tell this FUCKTARD what a colossal dong he is? This is a “musical”? It’s the same verse over and over! The fact that he ends a verse by singing the word midget (with delay) with a serious look on his face, is a slap in the dick to all citizens the world over!!!
3) INCLUSION
“Wow! The preacher is… NO. Ohhh, watch out girl!… It would be the white girl that’s…” It’s like watching a horror movie. You just start talking to the screen.
4) ADMIRATION
I can’t believe he did this. I mean this thing is impossible. Inconceivable. Takes balls though. I mean yeah, he’s nuttier than a Snickers bar with 25% more, but… ya gotta hand it to him.
5) BLISS
I love this thing. It’s hilarious, entertaining, humiliating, uplifting, and as retarded as the Special Olympics, but not on purpose. That means it’s REAL my friends.
6) RAPTURE
Go on, talk about it. Tell people, it’s OK. Know what? Buy it, and give it to someone. Share it with your friends and loved ones. Give a little something back, ya know?
7) SHAME
I feel dirty. It won’t wash off in the shower. I wanna watch it again… and again… and…
With the same conviction that almost got him jailed, R Kelly genuinely believes this is his best work. Arguing with him about it would be like trying to convince OJ he’s guilty… he has convinced himself that is what the reality is. How can you not admire the certitude here?! Imagine a scenario thousands of years from now, after our archaic ways of life are long forgotten, just maybe the only artifact that survives for future civilizations to examine and study is this lone dvd. Just imagine the levels of ball-trippage they’re gonna think we were on!
The 20 Worst Albums Of 2005
H.I.M.
Love Metal
Officially the most annoying band to look at on the planet. These foreigners are fucking mutants. Seriously, they only show that androgynous hot topic looking singer clown in all the pictures, but the rest of these guys look like the crowd at your local Dimebag Darrell memorial concert. There are two types of people who like this shit: Fat goth hogs that are one ho-ho away from using Hefty bags as clothes, and 14-year-olds with pants that look like boat sails who’d drink a Bam Margera/Johnny Knoxville hot piss cocktail while getting videotaped.
Tommy Lee
Tommyland: The Ride
This guy has 2 brain cells left, and they’re both waging a Mortal Kombat style battle in his head for supremacy. Shitty tattoos, plastic whore wives, and dumbass spoiled kids litter this guy’s life, so of course we have to hear about it. This isn’t even funny like that last band he had; you know the one with that “Get Naked” song? That band was fucking hilarious, total unintentional comedy. This is like Maroon 5 meets a karaoke bar where a group of frat house date rapists intersect with a dozen Korean weekend child molester businessmen. Yeah… it’s brutal in a “contracting STD’s” type of way.
The Fiery Furnaces
Rehearsing My Choir
I can’t decide what would be more excruciating, listening to some indie band’s grandma sing the songs for their “rock opera”, or watching my own grandma shave her legs and pussy in the shower. After hearing this record, I’ll go with the latter. In fact, I’d rather watch the Wu Tang Clan run a train on my grammy than hafta sit through this bullshit ever again.
Coheed & Cambria
Good Apollo, I’m Burning Star IV, Volume One: From Fear Through The Eyes of Madness
This band stinks of lame more than a shits’ dying breath. Ok… Truth be told, I haven’t heard this album. I simply CAN’T!!! Why?! Well, after hearing their new single, while staring in disbelief like a hypnotized mental patient at the video (which shows the singer’s clown wig of a hair-don’t on purpose), I discovered they have the most pretentious… No wait, preposterous, album title ever created, “Good Apollo, I’m Burning Star IV, Volume 1: From Fear Through the Eyes of Madness”. Do you fucking believe it??? No really, that’s it. These guys like comic books and role-playing games. Do we need to explain any further? It’s as if this band has absolutely no understanding of the honesty, originality, groove, personality, luxury, obligation, empathy, and sexuality that is rock n’ roll. Yet, they possess an almost idiot savant like grasp of a guaranteed lifetime of virginity. This tuneless, vacuous concept music is as useful as a video diary of the band members braiding dickheads. Imagine, all the longwinded musical douche drinking of the band Yes, minus the musicianship, the message of love, and the excuse of being British. We strongly suggest you take our advice on this one and immediately, perpetually ignore these fuckbags, until they dry up like the turds they are, and blow away in the fart wind of their retarded imaginations.
Alanis Morisette
Jagged Little Pill Acoustic
Whenever you get to the point where you think that maybe the record buying public just might have some sense after all, remember that this bitch sold like, a gajillion copies of “Jagged Little Pill”, and about 14 people bought the last Dylan record. That’s quite a feat for a female singer who’s not only Canadian, but Chronicles of Gnarnia as well. We’ll bet everything we own that Alanis Morisette’s beaver smells like a barrel of rotten salmon and looks like a dirty mop used to clean out the “private booths” at a West Hollywood porno theatre. This is a re-recording of that “Jagged Little Pill” album, except this one’s acoustic. Yeah dude, we needed that about as much as we need someone blowing squeaks in our mouth.
Avenged Sevenfold
City Of Evil
Music can be an ugly thing kids. In this band’s case, it’s so vile and disgusting that it’s on par with animal rape, and finger-banging your Aunt Marcy’s poopshoot. In 2005 we saw the rise of a band that makes those same vile things seem… well, not so bad. Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, we’d like to introduce to you, the Limp Bizkit of the screamo/metal-core/Warped Tour world… Avenged Sevenfold!!! In the 80′s, if you liked “metal” you had to choose a side. You were either down with the heavy shit like Slayer and Metallica, or you inhaled dicks while wearing spandex and listening to Poison and Winger. These dudes are the Poison of 2005, but without all the record sales and arenas full of people. 110% cheeseball posers with choreographed rock moves, ridiculous “spooky” stage names, fake ass strippers (even though the dipshit jock pseudo-goth singer’s girlfriend is their tour manager. Yeah bro, that’s about as rock n’ roll as bringing your sister on tour you ass pro. How are your “bros” gonna fuck the 14-year-old Warped Tour cum-pits that you dudes inebriate and wrestle onto your bus with your coat-rack around? Haven’t you ever heard the expression “Don’t bring sand to the beach”?), smoke machines and poser lights at outdoor concerts, vintage cowboy/biker/truckstop clothes, and shitty makeup via the same cocksmoke manager that brought us Disturbed. Thanks but no thanks. Did we mention these dudes think “St. Anger” is a “killer” Metallica record, and that the bass player gets drunk and sucks off the guitarist, or are those just “tour secrets”? Ooops. Seriously, if you like this fucking band you should seek therapy and check out this thing called sexual activity. It rules.
Lindsay Lohan
A Little More Personal (Raw)
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Ashlee Simpson
I Am Me
You know how back in the 60’s when The Beatles and The Stones were so competitive that they all sat around talking shit on each other, listening to each other’s latest releases, and studying each other’s stage moves? You know these chicks have a similar thing going on here, except for it involving dudes wondering which drugs and amps the other guys use, and a competition to be the best band in the world, it’s a couple of borderline retard, starfucker, Gnar-Gnar Superstar river pigs each wondering which software program the other uses to auto tune their vocals, how big of rims on their Hummer or Land Rover are, and if it’s speed, diet pills, bulimia, or all of the above that the other one uses to stay slim.
The Dandy Warhols
Odditorium or Warlords of Mars
All that movie “Dig!” did, (besides warn us that Anton from The Brian Jonestown Massacre is crazy and will kick you in the head if you bum on his plans) was show the whole world how much The Dandy Warhols are no talent, prissy poser weenie-washers. Some of the most pointless, over indulgent, self obsessed, yet unmemorable pop “rock” ever written via the most jive front man in the history of rock n’ roll.
Disturbed
Ten Thousand Fists
How do these guys still sell millions of records, while like… the dude who played bass in Limp Bizkit is probably applying for a job as a sandwich artist now? Go away pierced faced bald man, go away.
Billy Corgan
The Future Embrace
Speaking of annoying bald singers, it took about 5 minutes after this butt nugget came out and nobody gave a shit, for Billy to announce a Smashing Pumpkins reunion. Hey Billy, Zwan sucks, this shit sucks, and you getting the Smashing Pumpkins back together without any of the original members is REALLY gonna suck. How about you just stay home, count your money, update your blog every 3 minutes, write another Courtney Love album, and cry yourself to sleep every night cos you’re still bitter about not being as cool as Kurt Cobain, and leave the rest of us in peace.
Fall Out Boy
From Under the Cork Tree
Recently, we were involved in a conversation regarding the extent of our hatred towards this band, as well as the vast hordes of other faceless, interchangeable, cutesy G-Rated mall punk bands littering the earth, and a friend of ours who happens to be deaf was nearby. As the conversation continued, our deaf friend eventually stopped us to quench his curiosity. He was baffled at how we could possibly be so repulsed by the sound of something. He simply could not comprehend how music could cause us to physically feel bad. After much thought, a few days later we returned to our friend with a picture that we felt best simulated the same knee jerk reaction that with just a quick glance, we also experienced by hearing Fall Out Boy even for a few seconds. This was that picture.
The Bravery
The Bravery
2005 was like an SNL skit based on that wave of New York “cool” bands that had every writer at Spin and NME shooting up Lower East Side white boy cum into their bloodless veins, and there is no better example of that than The Bravery. Look… when The Killers call you out for being posers, then you know you’re somewhere between the shithouse and the gutter. We’re hoping for a Biggie/2Pac ending to this one, but instead these snake handlers will probably have a dance-off or whatever haircut disco fruitcake bands do nowadays.
Scott Stapp
The Great Divide
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311
Don’t Tread On Me
What’s the connection between these guys Buddyhead? Well… 2005 marked the first year where separate artists on our “worst of” list got into a fist fight with each other. That’s right, we were almost lucky enough to have these fuckers cancel each other out. Just when you thought Creed couldn’t get any worse, this asshole, who’s really into “P-JAM”, decides to praise Jesus in leather pants solo while doing more blow than Whitney and Bobby combined… not to mention the gallons of Jack Daniels, massive doses of steroids, and truck loads of OxyContin he pops like pez. PRAISE THE LORD! Meanwhile, the 311 goofballs are still wearing the title belt for “whitest band on earth”, composing the soundtrack for every upper middle class geeky white frat boy you ever wanted to beat up who wears “birks”, plays hackeysack, and has a poster of Bob Marley above his bed… but alas no serious injuries. We can only hope of a rematch in a steel cage where starving lions get let into the ring midway through. Someone call the WWF.
The Living Things
Ahead Of The Lions
These geeks take the gold in the Poser Olympics. This is like, 3 brothers from the Midwest shooting for that whole “T-Rex meets Nirvana” thing. Whatever. It takes more than some mascara and a few pairs of Gary Glitter-ish leather pants to make your band not suck so hard on Big Jim and The Twins dudes. It’s only fitting that these cake boys are on Jive Records. It’s like the rock gods warning us from above by labeling every single one of these records right there on the artwork that this shit is JIVE, JIVE, JIVE!
Death From Above 1979
Romance Bloody Romance: Remixes & B-sides
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Bloc Party
Silent Alarm Remixed
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Le Tigre
This Island Remixes
Death From Above went from our “best of” list a couple of years back to being looked at in the way you do at that cute girl from high school who comes back from summer vacation after having scarfed down enough jock dong and the seasons collection of Hostess Twinkies and Cupcakes to come back as a filthy pile of gonorrhea burger. This shiny turd gives us a virtual sinners guide on how to suck the big dick; ninja costumes to 3 disco remixes of the SAME FUCKING SONG, to promo-fucking Ozzy’s daughter’s fish hole. ENOUGH WITH ALL THESE REMIX RECORDS. NOBODY FUCKING CARES. Who can sit through extended “dance” versions of songs that some gacked out British shirtlifter just layed cowbell over, when there’s like 27 other Stones records out there that are probably rad that most normal human beings just don’t have the kind of time to get around to?
Black Eyed Peas
Monkey Business
Wow, another band that white hat college bros and neo-hippie hackey sackers rock as the soundtrack to their summer kegger series at some university rape den. This is basically an import car commercial, made by a bunch of soulless posers who felt the need to sell out to their record label and insert a “hot white chick” into the mix. Presto, little white slutbucket that used to be on Nickelodeon. If some cracker record label guy told DMX that he needed a white bitch in his “band”, you think he’d listen? Or would DMX kidnap the white A&R geek and re-enact that Pulp Fiction torture scene mixed with a bit of Cujo? We’re betting on the latter. Oh, and if you’re going to have princess in your band, tell her to wear a diaper.
Limp Bizkit
The Unquestionable Truth, Pt. 1
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Korn
See You On The Other Side
With the rap-metal genre’s grave getting colder by the day, watching these two beasts of 7 string douchery try to adapt to the current climate of music is more entertaining than we could have ever dreamed. As hard as these bands tried to sound “contemporary”, the harsh reality was that their only fans who stuck around to even notice these records came out were day shift strippers, fat stoned mouth-breathing Mexicans, and lacrosse players with ponytails and triple XL T’s that haven’t bought or downloaded new music since 1998. We’re just a couple months away from hearing “Thank You, Drive Thru” from all these mongoloids.
Jason Mraz
Mr. A-Z
Thanks to this ass-assassin we’re now aware of what the sonic parallel to being sodomized in jail sounds like. Mixing the “funky white guy” sounds of The Dave Matthews Band, and the rhythm-less hip hop “skills” of Will Smith, Jason Mraz has created the perfect soundtrack for attempting the impossible task of sucking your own dick. Rich white college guys with sideways trucker caps and pooka shell necklaces who are trapped in the closet are super psyched on this crap.
Weezer
Make Believe
20 things we would rather do than hear that “Beverly Hills” song ever again:
1) Visit the dentist
2) Wait in line at the DMV
3) Live in Arkansas
4) Vote
5) Zip our dicks up in our jeans
6) Fall into the gorilla exhibit at the zoo and get gang raped by all the gorillas at once
7) Read
Make out with Rip Taylor
9) Accidentally sit on our nuts
10) Skin our dickheads with a carrot peeler
11) Watch Bushwick Bill from The Geto Boys fingerbang our sisters
12) Deliver a retard baby
13) Wax Buzz from The Melvins’ back and taint
14) Masturbate with broken shards of glass
15) Tattoo an un-circumcised dong onto our chests
16) Funnel stomach bile mixed with trucker cum and “rrhea”
17) Sew vagina lips onto our forehead
18) Shave Oprah’s gunt
19) Titty-fuck Star Jones
20) Go to the Warped Tour without a gun
She Wants Revenge
These Things
The musical equivalent of picking up the soap. This band is a lot like that time you accidentally walked into the bathroom while your dad was jacking off… it’s just embarrassing for everyone involved. These guys have Interpol’s gigglesticks shoved so far down their throats, they must have been porno stars in a previous life, cos their gag reflexes are fully under control. Yet another fine addition to Fred Durst’s label, She Wants Revenge stand side by side other sham-tastic beef gravy guzzlers Puddle of Mudd, Staind, and Cold. Dumb sluts and metro-sexual dudes who use their Bloc Party baby tees as jizz rags are super into this bullshit. You still might not have heard of this band yet, so check out their website here to get a better idea of what this is all about.
