Ann Powers: Daughtry, "Leave This Town"

To fully comprehend Los Angeles Times music critic Ann Powers, it is important to know the following:

1. She was born on February 4th, making her an Aquarius (and traditionally ruled by the planet Saturn)
   
2. She co-wrote a book, Piece by Piece, with professional musician (and amateur lunatic) Tori Amos [Little known fact: the face of any natal male who has the misfortune of reading this tome will melt off his skull just like in Raiders of the Lost Ark]
   
3. See number one

Ms. Powers, of course, does not readily offer up information regarding her astrological persuasion*. This poses little problem to me, as a professional writer, for I am fully capable of using a variety of tools to obtain the information required to read anything dedicated to paper, but the everyday reader is not as blessed as I am. Especially readers of the Los Angeles Times. In particular, those reading a review of Chris Daughtry's new album.

If I can speak as a human being, and not as a critic [intelligent readers likely have already surmised that critics are not human beings. This is correct.], I want to empathize with Ann Powers. I wanna get real for a second here. I can understand why she would be reluctant to admit her Aquarian affiliation. After all, we're talking about an entire cross-section of the solar population self-described as egoistic and stubborn (and very jealous of all Scorpios(?). Scorpians? Scorpacians?)

What's even worse is the traits that Aquarians won't cop to. An Aquarian will never admit that he or she has a rebellious streak. Why, you may ask (and if you didn't ask, I'll pause here for a moment and allow you to do so. . . . . . . . seriously, I highly suggest you ask why. . . . . . . ). A rebel will never admit to being a rebel because by the very act of admission, he or she is conforming to truth. And, as we all know, truth is not a rebel's real dad and, therefore, cannot tell a rebel what to do.

Powers' rebel stripes could be used to her advantage as a writer, but so deep is her shame that she has yet to fully embrace her recalcitrance. Just imagine how much more weight her words would carry if she refused to use any kind of comprehensible written language. Or if she chose not to use any words at all! Picture a review composed entirely of punctuation. What a wondrous vision!

Until this hypothetical utopia is made true, I have no choice but to award Ann Powers' review of Chris Daughtry's new album, Leave This Town, the Cuban American prelate of the Roman Catholic Church, Manuel Aurelio Cruz.

________________
*Readers should be aware that Catfish Adams acknowledged his sun sign in his first ever review "I am a Gemini! and I Think This Rock 'n' Roll Thing Might Have Some Staying Power".

The Review We Didn't Even Bother to Read: Joyce Carol Oats, "Car Park and Cafe, Bethnal Green"

Joyce Carol Oats, "Car Park and Cafe, Bethnal Green"

Heads Up

Make sure that you read all the fine print before signing any endorsement deals. Unbeknownst to me, by accepting the financial assistance of the AHP Changagi Party Meats Company, I also agreed to cover any shifts missed at their North Platte plant and processing facility, and Gary's been out for a couple of weeks now on his honeymoon. I have to pull a double shift on the days when Wayne's gone for his dialysis. It's been tough work, but you can literally taste the results of my hard work.


Mention this blog post at your local AHP Changagi Party Meats Company retailer and receive $1.00 off your purchase of new Glizzards: the genetically hybridized flesh product that *doesn't* skimp on flavor!

Sheila, My (ex) Girlfriend: Catfish, "Skills as a Lover"

Being an aficionado with a pulpit naturally makes me something of a celebrity. Accordingly, this also makes me a target for attacks of character. I would normally just ignore these verbal assaults, but one such recent slander cannot go unaddressed. Recently, in her blog, and on a note posted to the fridge, my (ex) girlfriend, Sheila, reviewed my abilities as a lover. I've decided to respond by doing what I do best: writing my own review (of her review).

First off, Sheila, how is it that your audience is supposed to accept any of your rhetoric as fact when you are so closely tied to your subject? Objectivity called, and said it'll call back later at a more convenient time. I meant to give you the message earlier. Anyway, it's the same reason that nobody believes Billy Corgan when he writes about how great the newest Zwanshing Pumpkins album is coming along. Secondly, while you claim that I was a "less than mediocre partner", let me remind you that a dancer is only as good as his partner, and a guitarist is only as good as the instrument he plays. If the only thing he can afford is some misshapen, Communist-made, second hand piece of-- I apologize; I allowed my emotions to get the better of me there for a second. As a professional, I should know better.

Also, Sheila, you make certain accusations regarding the "enormity" of my "love." I would like to point out that length does not necessarily equal quality. I think we can all agree that Sandinista! would have been better as an EP than the 3-LP version that was released by The Clash. My EP has satisfied many* a listener!

Oh, who are we kidding, Sheila? This is ridiculous! We belong together, like Mick and Keith, like John and Paul, like Courtney Love and disorder. We're like Sid and Nancy, but without all the heroin and murder/suicide. Also, you were never a prostitute.** At the very least we can both agree that I could play bass as well as, if not better than, Sid Vicious.

Come back home, Sheila, and I'll give you the only piece of meat that the AHP Changagi Party Meats Company doesn't offer*** (at unbeatable low, low prices): my heart.

* Not many
** Pending confirmation
*** Coming Soon: Mechanically Separated Catfish Heart!

David Fricke: Dave Matthews Band, "Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King"

David Fricke is a living legend. I say this because of the following:

1. David Fricke is alive
2. I saw David Fricke on television.

Certainly, my standards aren't unreasonably high, but on this subject, I think we can all agree that we are in agreement. Because of Fricke's godlike status, I was quite excited to sit down and read his latest review of the Dave Matthews Band's new release, "Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King," in Rolling Stone magazine. But lately there has been an alarming trend, an unholy abomination, in the music reviewing industry, and it is a fad that Mr. Fricke's latest review has fallen victim to.

More frequently publishers are putting profits before the quality of their product. In order to save a few pennies, these "fat cats" are sending their periodicals to print on low-quality, sub-standard papers, slathered with inferior inks. Some periodicals have even ceased to publish a physical copy, and, instead, exist strictly on the world wide net! Just like pornographers and boat shoe merchants [ED. Le Review Revue produces a solitary print issue on a monthly basis. It is printed on a papyrus handmade by indigenous virgin women, with wood pulp harvested under a blue moon by their immaculately conceived virgin children--the ink is a formula made up of one part atrament, one part walnut oil, one part Ernest Hemingway blood, and one part secret! Each monthly issue is then sent to the Library of Congress for archival purposes].

Now I've tried going the digital route and reading one of these online rags, but I was incapable of doing so. Quite literally, I assure you. Does that say "amazing" or "dog turd"?

I.
Don't.
Know.

All my eyes see are a mass of squiggles (and a sailboat if I squint before crossing my eyes and looking beyond the center point). Is this what is supposed to pass for text these days? There's no depth! No feeling! No warmth! There's no emotional connection between writer and reader. It's like the goddamned terminator telling us what he thinks about Justin Timberlake's latest offering. If we can't trust machines to not try to kill John Connor, then how can we expect them to provide us with an entertaining, yet insightful, take on "Dick in a Box"?

Maybe I'm just old-fashioned, but I want a review I can hold in my hands, feel, and then cut out the semi-pornographic photos from for use during private hour happy-happy fun time. Something with a minimum 37 lb. bond. You can keep your digital robot words; this printophile will keep on reading and producing his craft with tried and true and analog equipment.

Unfortunately, I'm unable to give the content of David Fricke's review of the Dave Matthews Band's "Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King" any kind of rating. However, I do feel that I am justified in awarding this bastard technology Edith Hannam.

The Review We Didn't Even Bother to Read: SarahM, "Xerox Phaser 6280DN review"

Every week we are bombarded with literally millions of reviewers asking us to choose their most recent work to critique. Obviously not every review can be reviewed, and some of those, for one reason or another, just can't be bothered with at all. On that note, Le Review Revue proudly presents its newest feature. . .
SarahM, "Xerox Phaser 6280DN review"

Marc Hogan: Dananananaykroyd, "Hey Everyone!"

In some ways Marc Hogan is an enigma; he strings together words that theoretically should form sentences, yet experts agree that he "is not a writer*."How is this possible? Science cannot explain it! And in other ways he is as apparent as the fine taste of a steak that only the AHP Changagi Party Meats Company^** can deliver.

Hogan's review of Dananananaykroyd's newest album, "Hey Everyone!", does little to solve the mystery (he continues to use words, yet still isn't a writer) or obscure the painful obviousness: Marc Hogan is not well liked and doesn't have many positive character traits and is less funny than he believes he is and more than likely has a strained relationship with his father and might possibly be a reincarnated 17th century eastern European mass-murderer. [Ed. A google search does little to refute these allegations]

Hogan begins his review of Dananananaykroyd's album by, naturally, musing on another band:

The Denver Westword recently asked Los Campesinos! musical mastermind Tom Campesinos! whether it frustrates him to see reviews that describe his expansively punk-wracked Welsh septet's guitar-and-xylophone pop as "twee." He said it doesn't, explaining, "One of the most important things about any sort of art is an element of humor, and not to take yourself too seriously." Same goes for art appreciation, not that you'd know it most days from us stuffy critics.

Ho ho ho, how clever! But what does Los Campesinos! have to do with "Hey Everyone!"? Nothing, but how else would you know how talented Hogan is at listening to music if he didn't drop unrelated namebombs? It's the same way in which Stephen Hawking interrupts a conversation at a party by asking, "Did somebody say 'quantum electrochemistry'?" everytime he overhears someone say "M-theory." We get it, Messrs. Fancy Pants, and we aren't impressed.

It just makes me so angry! The only thing that can calm me down is a delicious and filling bowl of the AHP Changagi Party Meats Company exclusively made "Liquid Meat Product (Slogan: Try to NOT like it!)."

In a further attempt to show us how cool he is, Hogan, like all hipsters that beg to be punched in the throat, insists on letting you know that he is susceptible to television advertising and consumer trends by casually, but very much intentionally, letting you know that he uses a Macintosh "computer." Hogan writes, "On the same song, Dananananaykroyd (thanks, Command-V! And thank you, Elwood Blues!) make a defiant mantra out of a decidedly twee-ass phrase: 'Turn your hissy fits into sissy hits.'" Command-V? Very subtle, Marc. . . NOT! And very funny. . . UNTRUE!!

Had Marc Hogan's review of Dananananaykroyd's "Hey Everyone!" not been "full of shit", I would have considered awarding him the coveted rating of boneless beef heart, but instead he only receives brocciflower.



^{*Experts Academic Journal, Issue 3, Vol. 45.
**Visit your local grocer and ask for it by name!}

Congratulations...

Congratulations to the fine folks at the AHP Changagi Party Meats Company of Pyongyang, North Korea for their new sponsorship of Le Review Revue. Due to their overwhelming generosity, and corporate wizardry, you will once again be able to read reviews of music reviews (and now with 137% more lean protein!)

-Catfish