Review Summary: Grinded up cheddar circus vodka with a tropical punch2 of 5 thought this review was well written
In the middle of a System of a Down concert I recently attended, some pigs ate some cupcakes. It was an interesting scene, among many, but it’s been stuck in my head since. In the midst of all the flying spit, sweet sweat and the inaudible roaring of the crowd, a bunch of pigs quite rudely apparated on the stage and started eating triple chocolate cupcakes. Now, I don’t blame the pigs for appearing like that solely to eat those delicious looking cupcakes, I mean, if pigs could appear like that in the first place than it would probably be a very common event. And not to mention they were the most beautiful cupcakes I have ever laid my eyes on. It makes you ponder on great philosophical questions such as “Why not cows? Why did pigs have to eat the cupcakes?” but I’ll let you decide that for yourself. What struck me as even more strange was that the pigs were dressed in black leather and aviation helmets.
And then suddenly a revelation struck me as Serj was screaming “WHY DO THE HORSE NIPPLES OF A JET PILOT HAVE EYES THAT SMILE WHEN HE FLEW OVER THE BAY”- the pigs were metaphors for pilots flying over a wrinkled old lady’s ear and the cupcakes are Cuban cigars sticking out of the waxy innards. Some people may disagree with my deep interpretation of this event but I ask “Why disagree? Why not get along with your own life and lick your own cupcakes rather than wonder why some pigs did it at a SOAD concert.” I personally think that if their music was transformed into animal doing any activity at any given time then it would be a couple pigs flying over a wrinkled old ear with beefy cigars coming out of it. And who’s to dispute that? It seems like a perfectly reasonable claim; when pigs fly. If not that, then their music is like cut up lemons squeezing themselves over a blood drenched pillow in the middle of a vibrant opera about lemons squeezing themselves over blood drenched pillows. In truth, there are plenty of ways that you can describe System’s music but none of them do much justice. Just jump the *** up and ***ing enjoy it with your friends and don’t have a worry in the world, unless there aren’t tacos for everyone.
Doritos, Burritos, Tacos and Sombreros are incredibly delicious.
But the real substance of SOAD’s music is its beautifully messy, fast-paced, far-flung walrus killing. Rarely do they ever past a five minute mark on a song, instead they can just slap each other silly with circus cunt ***ery until you find an excuse to change the song to Chop Suey. They simple make it too easy to relish in their stupidly catchy vocal hooks and stop and start crescendos. Even when they make a half-assed job of a song, you don’t really mind because it’s still so ***ing good. If Radiohead is codeine, if Shpongle is magic mushrooms, then System is of the whitest, most finely cut cocaine anyone has ever snorted. But of course you already know that, so stop listening to wussbag non-conformist pseudo-indie rock and stop wallowing in your self-pity. Spin this and RATM instead. It takes a while for some people, but eventually you realize that cynical, cult-culture, anarchist metal is better than the same old Pitchfork-esque *** you ***heads listen to.