Here, let's have some real sacred cows shall we:
Sonic Youth. Kill YR Idols, indeed! They've sounded like a cheap imitation of themselves for about a decade now, and the new guitar player doesn't help at all.
Nick Cave. Please, please take him seriously, please! The records just get slicker and more dull, and old Nick just gets further entrenched in his po-faced Southern Gothic schtick. Hey, Nick, could you write us another song about a guy named Joe (or Jack or Henry or some other manly man's name) that lives in a shack in Mississippi, drinks whiskey, reads the bible, and agonizes about killing his wife. Thanks, we need more of that. Oh, and the gospel choir ain't foolin' nobody.
Tom Waits. String these words together and make your own Tom Waits song: Monkey, Devil, Whiskey, Skull, Buick, Shotgun, Bible, Farmhouse, Swamp, Bible, Blah, Blah, Blah. Really, just take your favorite Nick Cave song and sing it like Cookie Monster to a polka beat. Then do it as slow sappy ballad and then as a poem read over ambient noises, and VOILA!, you've got the new Tom Waits record! Don't worry, nobody will notice that it's practically the same album that you put out last year. Hell, go ahead and churn out a couple at a time! Folks will lap them up like missives from God. |