I guess to celebrate Gay Pride Month, the whole world decided to be nice and try to like Grizzly Bear, even landing them on Billboard's Top Ten.
Fronted by the love child of Adrien Brody and a gay Muppet (probably Bert), Grizzly Bear's lastest album - "Vasectomy" or some shit like that - is 6 minutes (elapsed time before I stopped listening) of pure laziness. From the lacklusterlyrics to the cry-voice singing, Vasectomy will make you wish the rest of the band broke off and started another band with a different singer who still has his testicles in tact. Maybe called Grizzly Bälls. Look at that umlaut. You know they're gonna rock the shit. Back to Grizzly bear...
In conclusion, if I wanted to listen to gay people whine I'd watch "So You Think You can Dance?". This album is as aggrivating as it is boring.
“I may be limping, but I’m coming home,” Jason Lytle says in the opening track of the most boring album I’ve illegally downloaded this year, and it’s like he’s admitting “I know this is lame cos I stopped doing drugs and binge drinking, but hey, at least it’s something, you hipster shit for brains.” Grandaddy was so boss, but Jason Lytle just can’t pull it off alone. Also, no one knows him by his real name, so a better marketing strategy would have been to call himself Grandmammy, Baby Grandaddy, or even Grandaddy the Second.
There’s a video on Amazon wherein he describes his recent move to Montana and how I guess that was a big fucking deal and I’ve realized that if I were listening to Yours Truly, The Commuter while driving my car into a buffalo, running away from bears, or (what else do they do in Montana besides those two things and making boring music?) it would be a little more exciting. But that’s the only way to do it. He even entitles a song “This Song is the Mute Button” and he tricks you because you will keep clicking on it, hoping it’s the mute button, but you just end up having to listen to it again. I'm left wondering, as I often do, why isn't this as boss as the Born Ruffians (they are boss).
So Jason cleaned up his act and has produced elevator music not even fit for the dressing rooms at Urban Outfitters. So, my solution, naturally, as a big Grandaddy fan, is to petition that Jason resume doing drugs and drinking. I mean, he had to be pretty fucked up to write all that AMAZING shit about Jed the Humanoid on Sophtware Slump, and really, as someone who doesn’t know him personally, his health is not that important to me. So he’s going to live in Montana and be healthy and live a long time and give us more boring music? No thanks! Burn fast and burn bright!
If your holier-than-thou internet music journalist friends haven't already assaulted your eardrums with this tripe, "Yonlu" is the whiny recordings of a wealthy Brazilian teenager who happens to be deceased.
Following his almost textbook suicide, his parents found a collection of songs he'd recorded in their mansion. Apparently they were so caught up in diving in their giant coin bank that they were surprised to find MUSIC on the computer in the room ADJACENT to a recording studio.
The tracks in question remind people with taste that anyone can make music. Most of the lyrics are about doing his hair or how much he hates white people. He was fluent in many languages but was incapable of singing in any. Which is why I gave this album a negative four.
In conclusion though, I hope that when I die someone finds the cumshot compilation I made on my external drive and manages to show it at Cannes. Which is an apt analogy for what you're doing if you buy this album.
