The Living End
Rockabilly for teens? Fuck it, this is popabilly, and it sucks shit top to bottom. Think of rockabilly and what comes to mind? Bad tattoos, wing-tipped shoes, flames, dice, flaming dice, Cadillacs, a rugged-yet-wise alley cat, Brian Setzer and worst of all … pompadours. The living end indeed.
After We Go
Mind you, tantra is that Buddhist sex prayer that allows Sting to hump for days on end with no warming gel. After many exhaustive minutes of online research, I came to a hypothesis. Tantra is a severe case of the blue balls, which is not nearly as painful as listening to the remnants of grunge rock. Who decided that the “Eddie Vedder voice” was universal? “Eurrrrah” certainly is the easiest voice to emulate. Lazy stoners. These two-minute-men have no business likening themselves to countless hours of back-bending, humperiffic sex.
Brad Mehldau Trio
Warner Bros. Records
I don’t know a damn thing about jazz. The more contemporary, the less I know, but I do know that guys named Brad aren’t usually jazz musicians. I should know, that’s my name, and I’ve already told you how much I know about jazz. Any hoot, this Brad guy knows what he’s doing. Not me, the guy with the trio. He even knows to cover a Radiohead song (“Every Thing in Its Right Place”) to sell more records. Anything Goes with the jazz. Brad knows that.