Super limited deluxe special editions of albums (I think I got all of the adjectives) are getting a bit ridiculous. On one hand, I think it’s really awesome that there are bands out there who want to give the fans a little something extra, but then I realize that most “special editions” contain some shitty, half-assed DVD that has thirty minutes of footage (if you’re lucky) about what five of the songs are about.
The horrible thing is, I will almost always buy the special edition even though logic has proven time and time again that it is a total waste of money. And do I legitimize my purchase by watching the DVD/listening to the bonus tracks/utilizing surround sound technology to hear Opeth’s Still Life in a whole new light? Nope. I very rarely take advantage of the band’s decision to bestow insight into their writing process and/or the things they do while they’re on their tour bus or inside their tour van. Here is a list of some of the bonus content that I have done absolutely nothing with:
– The DVD included with Underoath’s Lost In The Sound Of Separation. It’s worth mentioning here that I bought both the special edition of the CD that came with the DVD, and the special vinyl box set that also includes the CD and DVD. So I have two Underoath DVDs that I will most likely never, ever watch. But hey, 10″ vinyl in the shape of a sawblade!
– The DVD included with Behemoth’s Evangelion. I’m not sure why I bought this album in the first place, let alone the special edition. It’s a great album, but it’s almost guaranteed that I will never listen to it in my car or anywhere else.
– I was going to put the DVD that came with Mastodon’s Crack The Skye in this spot, but then I realized that I can’t remember whether or not I bought the special edition at all. That is how worthless that DVD most likely is.
– The Useless Creatures companion album that came with the special edition of Andrew Bird’s Noble Beast. I paid THIRTY DOLLARS for this album, for no other reason than it had fancier packaging than the regular edition. I have had it for a year and I still have not listened to the companion album. I even downloaded Useless Creatures when I initially got the album, and I still didn’t listen to it. Again, I paid thirty dollars for something even though I was fully cognizant of the fact that I would never listen to the bonus content ever. But it came with a poster, so that’s something.
For some reason that I will never understand, special editions of albums are the bug zapper to my blundering moth. I bought the special edition of Slayer’s World Painted Blood even though I am, at best, a casual fan of the band. I had literally no interest in the album even though I quite liked Christ Illusion, yet I bought it anyway. You know why? Because it had a translucent, blood-colored slipcase. Oh wait, no it didn’t. It just had a translucent, blood-colored slip of plastic on the cover that fell right the fuck off when you opened the album. I paid fifteen dollars for that. Oh yeah, and I don’t own Christ Illusion or any other Slayer album for that matter. If a Slayer fan were to stumble upon my CD collection and notice that World Painted Blood is the only Slayer album I own, he would probably beat me senseless. In doing so, he would probably force the knowledge out of me that I bought the CD at Hot Topic. After a moment’s confusion as to why I blurted out that fact considering he wasn’t even interrogating me in the first place, he would resume beating me even more severely than before.
So I can recognize the complete ridiculousness of many special editions, yet nine times out of ten I will still buy that version over the cheaper regular edition that contains the content that I actually care about. And if the special edition is too expensive for me to be able to justify buying, I will go home empty-handed. That’s right, I won’t be satisfied unless I have the special edition. And sometimes I’ll plop down the money anyway. That special edition of Underoath’s Lost In The Sound Of Separation? I can’t remember the exact sum of money I spent on it, but it was somewhere around ninety dollars.
And let’s not even talk about the fact that I have everything KT Tunstall has ever released. I’d be hard-pressed to remember a time that I popped in one of those Tunstall CDs or the, you-guessed it, DVDs that came with them, because I of course bought the special editions. When I bought the special edition of Fall Out Boy’s Infinity On High, it wasn’t on sale at Best Buy like the regular edition was. But, seeing how this wasn’t exactly specified clearly, I asked one of the sales associates if the special edition was on sale as well. He didn’t know, so he asked someone else. They argued about it for a few minutes and ended up giving it to me on sale, probably just to get me to leave them the hell alone. These are the depths I will sink to in getting my beloved special editions. The lure of a box set is just so enticing! The special edition of Broken Bells’ album is housed in a fucking music box. Yep, when you open it to get the CD, a song plays that they wrote specifically for the goddamn music box. The special edition of Lady Gaga’s The Fame comes with a lock of her hair. And I almost bought it. The only thing keeping me from getting it was the hefty price tag (it was a hundred dollars) and any remaining dignity that I may or may not have.
The point of all of that was to say that I bought the deluxe edition of Coheed & Cambria’s Year Of The Black Rainbow earlier tonight. You know, the one that comes with the 350-page novel. I read the first few pages and it seems like the single most confusing thing ever written. If I make it through, I will review it in a future edition of Chan’s Plans.
|Monday, April 12, 2010|
|HereticAnthEm550 (9:12:58 PM):||hey could i get blue sky noise|
|Tuesday, April 13, 2010|
|HereticAnthEm550 (12:40:16 AM):||hey could i get blue sky noise|
|Thursday, April 15, 2010|
|HereticAnthEm550 (3:18:41 AM):||how do you add an album|
|HereticAnthEm550 (3:18:55 AM):||or artist for that mattr|