This month’s featured record is Tom Waits eclectic sprawling 1985 masterpiece. The second album of…
This list is going to ruin someone’s day. One man’s garbage is another man’s treasure, or so they say. But some piles of garbage are so massive, and so offensive, that they become billowing dumpster fires, and that’s what we’re looking at here. The insanity of this list is that some of these records did not get released originally on vinyl, and someone at a major label sat around and thought that we were sorely lacking in albums that will someday be used as psychological torture in hostage situations, and the agony should be delivered in full and pristine analog quality. The offenses of these artists are nothing short of sonic crimes against humanity, but this is by no means an exhaustive list of the worst, this is an extemporaneous list, that represents albums that made our team have a palpable cringe reflex. Please enjoy our first 5 picks for albums that should have never been released on vinyl, in no particular order:
There’s nothing like the corporate world selling political ideas back to the people with a hollywood actor’s vanity project, that could maybe be the worst band ever to have charting singles. How the 30 Seconds To Mars train doesn’t derail itself after a decade plus of horrifying productivity is one of the last great mysteries. Pure nausea condensed into song form, filtered through vocoded trap vocals, with millennial whooping and lyrics that even Imagine Dragons would have left on the drawing board. My only wish in this life is for Jared Leto to get to hear his overproduced abominations through my ears. He should have quit while he was ahead with Frozen Embryos.
“Dani California” should be the only words I need to use to describe the horror in store for those bold enough to unwrap this record from its plastic. If that doesn’t frighten you away, I will add “Snow (Hey Oh)” as damning evidence of the least effort ever put into a top 20 hit. Their history of musical crimes is long, and it spits in the face of very very few redeeming moments. But this album is the case of having 20 years plus of continually favoring their worst qualities, and constantly refining what makes your music annoying and churning out constant gut punches for fans who believed they had a few good songs sometime in the early 90s. When we wake up from the nightmare that has been the Red Hot Chili Peppers, the album that will have us screaming in a cold sweat will be Stadium Arcadium.
As Satan welcomes you into hell you can hear some of the biggest hits of both Fergie and The Black Eyed Peas playing in the background. They do fortunately let you choose which song from this album will be played during your descent into madness.
It’s hard to believe that someone would go to such great lengths to make Taylor Swift look like the John Lennon of our time. I have not had the displeasure of hearing this on vinyl, but the only format this should have been released on is self-deleting MP3 that automatically drag themselves to your garbage. Her constant illuminati symbology and odd sense of humor that doesn’t always lead to distinguishable jokes has finally reached full maturity on this record. I would say she’s past her prime, but unfortunately it looks like this album is the ultimate distillation of whatever it is that she does. If you have any questions about the assertions made in this review, please click here.
If you had ever hoped for an infinitely less talented version of Incubus, fortune smiled upon you in the early 2000s. A band that was so benign, pointless and unnecessary that it makes you nostalgic for the edginess of the dad from Gossip Girl’s fake television band. I honestly am not sure if this band ever enjoyed writing our playing these songs, which is the correct emotional response to tracks like “The Reason” and the endless garbage that comprise the rest of the indistinguishable tracks of this album. Songs that seem to freeze time, and stretch it into eternity, which makes sense they are warning you with the infinity sign in their logo.
Cleanse your pallet with one of our classic album reviews here.
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