Ringo has a new album out, God help us.
In place of our first official album review, which was not much more than tortured screams of, “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?!” As well as our revised review:
“lavknm ap/;aergpm q0g q
sdfgasdf 45d3 h786ghdfj 0sd8 sdfgsd sr6 e508e578 8”
(This is what cleaning vomit from a keyboard looks like)
We’ve decided instead to kill two birds with one stone.
Before we begin grab one of our handy FF listening companions and take a listen to a song from the album in question.
Warning – don’t listen
We’ve all just been subjected to not only Ringo’s singing, but also his songwriting. Our offended ears and self-preservation instincts have kicked in and inherently we’ll know to avoid this particular torture in the future. In 5,000 years when these albums are unearthed from a landfill in Kentucky, our ancestors will intuitively know this is bad. FIRE HOT! FIRE BURN!
The music speaks for itself, anything we could add would be to twice slay the slain. Incidentally, to order more barf bags please use the contact tab located at the top of the page. Hopefully it isn’t wishful thinking to assume that most of us are wise enough to avoid this kind of garbage, which brings us to our second slain bird; Rolling Stone Magazine. This sycophantic, pap pedalling, pay-per-play douchebaggery has gone beyond being mildly amusing, and far beyond being blatantly obvious. If this doesn’t prove to be one of the final nails in its coffin of credibility, its hard to imagine what its going to take to seal this ancient sarcophagus.
During a brief respite from flagging the flavor of the week, and in between the 17 full page glossy ads that surround every article, they’ve taken time to reminisce by slobbering all over the teat of its trusty old stand-by flavor, beatle dough. How else can you explain not only a good review, but a glowing 4.5 out of 5 stars review of this album? A review that doesn’t even mention the music!?! This is what they had to say about the lead track we just heard…yes, THIS IS THE SAME SONG! Liverpool 8 is a celebration of everything Ringo — his musical wit, his cheer. I keep waiting for the punchline, but there isn’t one. Musical wit? Poppycock!
It doesn’t end there, this nostalgic cuddle-fest is only beginning. For some of us Beatlemaniacs, one of the most significant events of 2007 was the long-awaited DVD rerelease of Help! It’s not merely the fabbest and funniest Beatle film but Ringo Starr’s proudest cinematic moment, and that includes Caveman.
Unbelievable. Not only are they trying to peddle the smash flop hit DVD of last month, the regurgitation of HELP! which was cunningly exposed here, but they unapologetically drool all over it like a mongoloid preacher and still have the balls to try and pass this off as an album review! Its surprising Leibowitz’s photos of the author getting a Ringo-reach-around didn’t make it to the cover of this groundbreaking issue.
The review says, “there’s an elegiac tinge to “Gone Are the Days,” waving goodbye to the strawberry fields of the past.”, but this less than elegiac croak from the dying waste of a tree thats been rolling around on its bloated carcass for the past twenty years should cause us all to wave goodbye as well, and good riddance.