Hi, I’m Meathead.  I figured I should pull my own weight a little more here at the Buddyhead website, you know, to earn that $0k salary.  Travis unloaded approximately four metric tons of CDs on me to listen to and subsequently review.  Most of them are from bands I’ve never heard of, and judging solely by their cover art, they potentially range from “sort of okay” to “bad” to “really bad” to “really really bad” to “might not suck” to “why would a just God allow this to exist?”  Not only do they finally solve that nagging problem of what to do with that one tiny corner of my apartment that wasn’t cluttered with junk yet, they also spare you from reading more mind-numbing diatribes about Choco Tacos for at least another month or two.

I thought I’d start with what promises to be one of the worst of the bunch: Swan Songs by Hollywood Undead.  I haven’t even listened to it yet; it’s currently sitting right in front of me on my desk, adorned with six posers daring me to put it in my computer’s CD tray.  I’ve gotta tell you, I really don’t want to.  I do not want to listen to this album, not at all.  Just looking at the cover makes me depressed.  It raises numerous questions, such as, “Why do they call themselves ‘Hollywood Undead’?”  “Was ‘Dollar Store Slipknot’ already taken?”  “Is this really some Spinal Tap-esque joke that I’m just not in on?”  “Is that Buckethead on the left?”  Oh, and by the way, that needlessly upside-down skyline is of downtown L.A., not technically Hollywood, but now I’m just nitpicking.

Boy, I’m sure going to feel like a dick if this album actually ends up being good.  Won’t that be embarrassing?  I mean, maybe these guys deserve the benefit of the doubt.  Maybe they’re just in need of a new image consultant, that’s all.  So, apologies in advance if Swan Songs turns out to be the next Houses of the Holy.  I guess it’s time to put this thing in and brace for impact.  I just hope I don’t get a virus or something.

Here we go!  The first track, “Undead” is currently playing, and I already wish it wasn’t.  This sounds like Linkin Park mixed with… something else that also sucks.  Maybe Papa Roach or some bullshit.  Seriously, fuck this song.  I’m not listening to this whole thing.  I have my limits.

“Sell Your Soul” starts out with some fantastic fake piano for a few seconds, then it’s back to Linkin Park riffs.  “How did it come to this,” the douchebag singer asks, before shouting “throw it all away” or something to that effect.  “Why can’t they let me be?”  “I watch myself bleed.”  Wow. The thought that people over the age of twelve wrote, performed, recorded, and produced this fills me with a profound sense of sadness that words can scarcely begin to describe.  Or maybe it’s just diarrhea.  BRB

The song “No Other Place” actually contains the line “there’s no other place that I’d rather be than Los Angeles, come on, shake it baby.”  I can’t believe I’m actually listening to this without a gun pointed at my head.

At this point it’s blatantly obvious that I don’t need to listen to the rest of this album.  A cursory scan of the beginning and middle of each of the remaining tracks indicates that nearly every song starts off with some type of stringed instrument so as to imply that these talentless shitheads aren’t talentless shitheads, and then immediately launches into power chords, lyrics that would make a special needs third-grader roll his eyes, and probably some rapping, since rapping is “in” these days.  The only exceptions to this rule are a couple songs that start out with a canned hip-hop beat that immediately launches into the aforementioned nonsense.  How’s that for variety?  I guess this is that “nu-metal” genre that was all the rage in 1999.  Now I understand why they’re wearing those retarded masks — if I were responsible for music this terrible, I wouldn’t want anyone to know what I look like, either.

Apparently Travis is really close friends with the producer, whoever he is, so I feel a little bad for ragging on it like this, but honestly, I’d feel even worse for standing idly by while unsuspecting youths purchase this thing in spite of its cover (my sanity will not allow me to believe that anyone would purchase it because of its cover).  And if you’re a hipster who wants to listen to Hollywood Undead ironically while you wear a Mack Truck hat, please do society a favor and download it illegally from the internet (the album, not the Mack Truck hat, as you cannot currently download clothing items).  Don’t support music like this.  That only encourages them to make more.

Love,
Meathead

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