Average Rating: 3.60 Rating Variance: 1.47 Objectivity Score: 72% (Fairly Balanced)
Sort by: Rating | Release Date | Rating Date | Name5.0 classicBilly Ray Cyrus Some Gave Allblink-182 Enema Of The StateKesha AnimalPanic! at the Disco A Fever You Can't Sweat Out4.5 superbblink-182 Blink-182Lil Wayne Tha Carter IIIWhy? Alopecia4.0 excellentAFI Crash LoveIf you're not yet sold on this album, give the first thirty five seconds a listen. These fucking weird, distant, horror music clips play before coming to the forefront of the sound and transforming into a "typical" sounding AFI guitar riff, when suddenly, BAM, this fucking HEAVENLY sounding riff that sounds something like the most epic thing that has ever happened in the world, like if jesus decided to pick up a guitar and play a song inspired by the fall of man. Okay. Fanboyish but you get the point. There's my soundoff. Listen to this.blink-182 Take Off Your Pants And Jacketfun. Aim and IgniteJustin Bieber My WorldOpeth Blackwater ParkOwl City Ocean EyesThe Blood Brothers ...Burn, Piano Island, Burn3.5 greatBoys Like Girls Love DrunkBroken Bells Broken BellsEscape the Fate Dying Is Your Latest FashionWhy? Eskimo Snow2.0 poorPearl Jam Backspacer1.5 very poorBrand New DaisyWhat Brand New ultra-fans often accuse detractors of their last release The Devil and God... and now Daisy of is an inability to accept the band's maturity and evolution. But this misses the point. Starting off as a rip-roaring pop-punk outfit with some of the most exciting and dynamic abilities to grace the deliberately simplistic genre, they have now become the epitome of boring, sour college kid rock. Brand New didn't need a complete genre shift to demonstrate to every one that they were far ahead of their pop-punk peers in terms of lyrical introspection, yet here they crown themselves the kings of self-important, meaningless indie-rock verse, inadvertently destroying their reputation as a band that could successfully marry raw emotion with brooding thought. Most bitterly, lead singer Jesse Lacey's vocals have now abandoned the visceral outrage that defined the band's earlier work, replacing them with a scatterbrained performance that ranges everywhere from excruciatingly annoying screaming to Modest Mouse drone. Oddly enough, this outing's obvious plea for anti-commercial outsider appeal is actually the opposite, as it is specifically manufactured to appeal to the band's aging fanbase. Those who enjoyed Your Favorite Weapon are now entering their twenties, and angst, the band figures, is no longer their dig. And so they instead offer faux-literary embellishment talk-sung (and worst, screeched) over blurry, banal chord progressions. Dullness is not maturity. This album is just boring.P.O.D. Greatest Hits: The Atlantic YearsTitus Andronicus The Monitor1.0 awfulPanic! at the Disco Pretty. Odd.
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