Baptist Generals - No Silver/No Gold
(Subpop)
Opening with the excruciatingly awful "Ay Distress," wherein vocalist Chris Flemmons sounds like either he's in the midst of a bloody bowel movement or someone just rammed a hot poker up his ass, this disaster goes straight downhill from there. Perhaps realizing the piece of shit he's just dumped on us, he ends the "song" with a series of vitriolic, foul-mouthed epithets and tosses his guitar across the studio. Personally, I'd like to frisbee this silver beer coaster right after it.
With all of the talented artists out there whose records trickle across my desk in desperate attempts to share their musical vision with a wider audience, it's an absolute criminal shame that this shit would actually be released, much less on a relatively major indie label.
Flemmons is tone-deaf; his songs have no rhythm or melody, the band can't play their instruments, and I swear I've heard these guys in the back alleys and subways of NYC searching through the dumpsters for food or a warm bed for the evening. But then that's an insult to Moondog and all the much more talented bums roaming the streets (without a recording contract, I might add).
There is absolutely nothing worth listening to on this release and, as befits my rating, not only should you laugh at people who spend money on this dreck, but I would go one step further and suggest you lose their phone number and email address, because anyone who finds anything redeeming about this mess is no longer worthy of benefiting from your friendship. Avoid with extreme prejudice unless you want the honor of owning the worst album of the century. My congratulations to Marianne Nowottny... she no longer heads my Top 10 list of the year's worst albums. This even gives the White Stripes a run for their money in terms of sheer untalented incompetence.
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