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Album Rating: 2.0
this band is so good, bro
What a pagebreak lol
| | | Album Rating: 3.5
All the love forXfing. Keep your balls out for these dicks
| | | Album Rating: 3.5
gonna djent over field recordings of my toilet water while impersonate yoko ono vox, expect full marks for uNique from all you hapless schmucks
Okay hol up hol up hol up
| | | Album Rating: 1.0
toilet water deserves better RIP
| | | Album Rating: 0.5
ngl wouldn't be the first field recordings of toilet water album i'd made
and probs wouldn't be the worst either
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I didn't want to call it a documentary, although it was assembled completely from documents, old film footage, kinescopes of TV shows from the 1950s. This was social and historical material but edited well beyond the limits of information and objectivity and not itself a document. I found something religious in it, maybe I was the only one, religious, rapturous, a man transported. The man was the one individual on-screen throughout, the comedian Jerry Lewis. This was Jerry Lewis of the early telethons, the TV shows broadcast once a year to benefit people suffering from muscular dystrophy, Jerry Lewis day and night and into the following day, heroic, tragicomic, surreal. I looked at kinescopes of the early years, every distant minute, it was another civilization, midcentury America, the footage resembling some deviant technological life-form struggling out of the irradiated dust of the atomic age. I edited out all the guest appearances, the lounge acts, movie stars, dancers, disabled children, the studio audience, the band. The film was all Jerry, pure performance, Jerry talking, singing, weeping, Jerry with his ruffled shirt open at the collar, bow tie undone, a raccoon flung over his shoulders, Jerry inviting the nation's love and wonder at four in the morning, in closeup, a crew-cut sweating man in semidelirium, a disease artist, begging us to send money to cure his afflicted children. I had him babbling in unsequential edits, one year shading into another, or Jerry soundless, clowning, he is knock-kneed and bucktoothed, bouncing on a trampoline in slow motion, the old flawed footage, the disturbed signals, random noise on the soundtrack, streaky patterns on the screen. He inserts drumsticks into his nostrils, he sticks the handmike in his mouth
| | | Album Rating: 1.5
I didn't want to call it a documentary, although it was assembled completely from documents, old film footage, kinescopes of TV shows from the 1950s. This was social and historical material but edited well beyond the limits of information and objectivity and not itself a document. I found something religious in it, maybe I was the only one, religious, rapturous, a man transported. The man was the one individual on-screen throughout, the comedian Jerry Lewis. This was Jerry Lewis of the early telethons, the TV shows broadcast once a year to benefit people suffering from muscular dystrophy, Jerry Lewis day and night and into the following day, heroic, tragicomic, surreal. I looked at kinescopes of the early years, every distant minute, it was another civilization, midcentury America, the footage resembling some deviant technological life-form struggling out of the irradiated dust of the atomic age. I edited out all the guest appearances, the lounge acts, movie stars, dancers, disabled children, the studio audience, the band. The film was all Jerry, pure performance, Jerry talking, singing, weeping, Jerry with his ruffled shirt open at the collar, bow tie undone, a raccoon flung over his shoulders, Jerry inviting the nation's love and wonder at four in the morning, in closeup, a crew-cut sweating man in semidelirium, a disease artist, begging us to send money to cure his afflicted children. I had him babbling in unsequential edits, one year shading into another, or Jerry soundless, clowning, he is knock-kneed and bucktoothed, bouncing on a trampoline in slow motion, the old flawed footage, the disturbed signals, random noise on the soundtrack, streaky patterns on the screen. He inserts drumsticks into his nostrils, he sticks the handmike in his mouth
| | | Album Rating: 5.0 | Sound Off
Yeah Disturbed is real rock and roll
| | | Album Rating: 2.0
I don't think this sucks that hard tbh and I don't really understand the flack for the singer, but it's also not gripping me. Why is this hyped? Good marketing?
| | | Album Rating: 0.5
i just slapped a laptop so hard it had a seizure and the screen split into like a hundred different pixel blocks so i turned it off, prayed for its survival, turned it on and found it worked absolutely fine am i a monster
| | | Album Rating: 1.0
album is terrible agreed
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Probably a Lenovo
| | | Album Rating: 1.0
"Why is this hyped? Good marketing?"
fentanyl
| | | Album Rating: 1.5
it's hardly surprising when other groups like Falling In Reverse were already drawing massive crowds
| | | Album Rating: 2.0
I met a guy who talked like Falling in Reverse were the shit and everyone should know who Ronnie Radke is, but I had never heared of either before.
I already had a bad feeling about this, because he isn't a very bright guy, but when I checked FIR it was an immediate "nope"
| | | Album Rating: 3.5
are we really talking about disturbed now? what next, nickelback? lel
| | | Album Rating: 4.0
Had this at a 2.5... don't know what voodoo bullshit someone's been pulling but I'm actually starting to like this. First 6 tracks have been living in my head rent free, complete ridiculousness.
| | | Album Rating: 1.5
album is terrible agreed [200000]
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Based rating, can’t stand this band and/or Nik Nocturnal’s meatriding (thereof) of ot
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@kalkwiese https://youtu.be/TP9GZNcpbro
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