2003-01-31
Gee that drummer has to be sweating a ton! You
know how poorly ventilated rehearsal spaces,
clubs, and studios tend to be. And the singer's
really, really pissed about something or other.
What a novel emotion--fury. No one's angry these
days. Rebel. I wonder if he wears a studded belt
when he screams: "Who cares if I wanted to be
someone else? I find comfort in this because
there's none in you.so redesigned you can have it
all!!" I'm sure he'd stay in key were it not for
having to croon about despair, alienation, and
emptiness. When you look as though your briefs
are soaked with a flesh-eating amalgam (examining
the inner artwork) you've just got to display
physical/psychic anguish to keep it real, aight?
This type of apathy isn't about smiling. I've
somehow managed to get to track eight, and it all
sounds like the same song with little binary
number gaps. The drummer sounds ready for CPR by
now. Math-core, like all other genres, begins as
a fascinating concept, but you can only squeeze
so much blood out of a turnip. My wastebasket is
hungry again.
Jason Thornberry
