Audiocrash, Time sensitive material
If you’re the type to use CDs as drink coasters, hang them from your car’s rearview mirror to watch them glisten in the sun, or maybe just for junk/experimental artwork, then I’ll give you this album for nothing. Just think: you could make a CD Art Car for next year’s parade!
The starting song “My Fault” echoes with whiny, cock-rocker vocals that make Skid Row’s Sebastian Bach sound like a freaking rock god. I also get hints of the 1990s band Extreme as a possible influence of theirs. “Audiocrash” is aptly titled, I will give them that, as they’re truly the sounds of audio that has been in a wreck, dismembered and mangled up into something grotesque and hardly audibly bearable. If you have an enemy that you have been waiting to retaliate against, I’d suggest sitting them down and forcing them to listen to this album.
“When you come back home can you bring some wine and flowers?,” they start at one point, continuing with, “It’s my fault, It’s not your fault.” This doesn’t even make sense! Why is Guy S. (known only as “Guy S.” on the album information) telling this woman that the problems they are experiencing are entirely his fault but requesting that she bring home the wine and flowers? Gross. That’s rank.
“I Can’t Feel You Anymore” is a live recording with the two vocalists on acoustic guitar: “I don’t think I can feel you anymore / come and pick me off your kitchen floor.” Wow, he really has a way with words. This leaves me wondering if this is some kind of dirty sexual reference. I can just see the women swooning to pick a drunk Audiocrash member off their floor. “Half past three and my phone’s been dead / is that you running ’round my bed?” “I don’t think I can see you anymore / look at me I’m on your bedroom floor…”
I do feel for any woman who might have played a part in this wretched scenario and hope the best for her future. If any one of these band members comes near my bedroom floor, I will have no bones about shooting them with my “guitar riff-le” (I’ll get to that in a minute, don’t worry) and quickly disposing of the remains in a nearby incinerator.
In “Lifeline,” Guy S. sings, “Come on baby throw me a lifeline / sing to me, sing to me, come to my window,” and I think to myself, “what’s happened to the good old days?” Shouldn’t this be the other way around? Since when is a woman supposed to serenade a grown man or “throw him a lifeline,” whatever that’s supposed to mean? Hmmm.
The band makes a feeble attempt to support soldiers in Iraq with a cheese-rock video that I accidentally stumbled upon as I was researching them for this review. They even go as far as inventing something that looks like a guitar and rifle combo and have coined the term “guntar”; in the video, they force the participants to pretend to strum this atrocity while in desert camouflage.
Other offenses include such monstrous song titles such as “Leprechauns Waltz” and “Captain America.” Just thinking about listening to songs with titles like these makes me sick on my stomach. The album and Website artwork add further to my theory that music and art go hand in hand because they both suck terribly.
Remarkably, according to their Website, a percentage of all proceeds from Audiocrash’s music sales are donated to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital and other nonprofit organizations. Unfortunately, from the looks and sounds of it these charities will not be receiving any money, sorry. If you are looking to rock out with the band, I’m sad to say that all of their summer gigs have been canceled. Excuse me while I go hurl.