Urgent memo to the A&R department at Skinny Dog Limited: WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU FIND THESE PEOPLE?
Scratch that, actually; I'm not certain I wish to know. Nonetheless, I've got but one tangential musing of my own considering this latest JACKIEO album:
My best friend at age fourteen was a blossoming metal-head with a magnetic attraction to anything with lumbering sludge guitars, embarrassingly awful lyrics, and vocals that epitomized feigned rage and pent up rock-with-your-cock-out masculinity. One of his most prized possessions was a copy of Motley Crue's self-titled album from 1994, the one where Vince Neil was absent, probably in drug rehab or something, and in his place was some third string replacement singer against whose talents "Kickstart My Heart" might as well have been Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring." He obtained this jewel in a Circuit City discount bin in which all CDs cost $3.99 and have little notches on the spine to denote that they've been stagnant units for several years and are now no longer permitted to share shelf space with CDs that people are actually buying. Often, my friend played this disc while we were sitting on his porch, trying to look cool for the neighbor girl; equally as often, another of the neighbors would call and request that he changed CDs. It wasn't a request to turn the music down, mind you, it was honest-to-god quality control; as the guy who lived next door once said, "I don't care if you play your music loud, just don't play that 'Hooligan's Holiday' song anymore. Ever."
All things considered, JACKIEO's Between Worlds of Whores and Gods is almost as good as that Motley Crue album.
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