MelonCholera
Broken Dreams, Lost Love
[Sensitive Artist Recordings; 2004]
Rating: 2.1

My boss handed me MelonCholera's latest CD and I took it with a measurable degree of apprehension. Sure I moderately enjoyed their previous release, "Anguish of Misery," but I felt their lead vocalist David Grissom could only carry their band so far, unlike myself and my band Asphalt Friendship which will be playing at the Coal Springs Travel Lodge and Motor Inn this upcoming Friday. Cover will only be $2.00 and ladies get in free, and that's a lot cheaper than MelonCholera's CD any way you look at it.

The first track on the CD, "Rampant Materialism," reminded me of the early work by Gill Harvest, the wonderfully potent indie band from the University of Colorado. The toned down brass section and guitars were mixed in well with the sound of a washing machine looping in the background while a baby's cry echoed across the channels. Unfortunately, the album went downhill from there as Grissom's vocals took a lead position and drove this CD into a below-average performance. His tuneless yodeling on "Summer of Ice and Wind and Rain and Torment" wanders from note to note like a homeless man hanging out at a wedding and trying to eat as many hors d'oeuvres as he can without being caught by the bride's family. It's nothing compared to how well I sounded in the recording studio last night in Gary's basement, I was like totally pumping them out and we got it all on DAT and we're going to master it soon and it's going to be awesome I tell you. It will sure as hell be better than this CD, and maybe those guys at Sensitive Artist Recordings will finally decide to take a chance and sign a band who isn't afraid to redefine the boundaries of music and doesn't stick to cookie cutter songs like MelonCholera and David Grissom's banal cacophony of mediocrity. Did you know that David once passed out in the Kappa Phi bathtub? It's true, I've got pictures of it, that pussy can't handle liquor at all. I was going to kick his ass that night but my girlfriend was all like, "don't do it, he's not worth it" and I was like, "yeah you're right" because my dad will totally kill me if I get put on probation again. He might even take away one of my Mercedes SUVs.

Back during Battle of the Bands in 2002, Dave showed up with some other guys because the other members of MelonCholera didn't want to play the Keg with him. I don't blame them because Dave is a real asshole and can't even tune his guitar without the help of one of those electronic thingies. One time he was trying to play "Stairway to Heaven" and the entire thing was flat and I said, "good God Dave, you're a faggot" and he threw a bottle at me and the cops had to break it up because I was about to totally smash his head open with a trash can lid. I don't know why the hell Sensitive Artist Recordings gave such a douchebag a record contract instead of my band Asphalt Friendship, because we're so much more creative than this kind of worthless drivel. If any of you guys at Sensitive Artist Recordings are reading this, and I know you are, you might want to ask Dave about the time he got drunk and chugged cock for a basket of chicken wings at Buffalo Bill's BBQ Shack. Oh and if you want to meet at Stacy's this Friday and call me out, you'd better show up and I'll kick your ass Dave you stupid faggot.

- Alex Masterson, April 19th, 2004

Radiohead
Collectionanthropolopolisology
[ EMI Toshiba; 2004]
Rating: 10.0

Traveling through space at 293.37246 million billion miles per hour, traveling past star systems and glowing golden suns, comes Radiohead's latest offering. Discovering a new Radiohead release is like staring into the eyes of Jesus Christ and feeling the eternal stream of love and awe that flows from Him. I might be so bold as to claim that Radiohead is the Jesus Christ of music; the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost combined into one small package featuring the limitless talent of Thom Yorke.

So how do I review such an inherently perfect, flawless recording? It would be unfair of me to simply state, "this CD is perfection in the literal sense of the word," as that would not give such a masterpiece the sufficient praise it deserves. Putting this disc into your stereo and listening to it is like having the saints pee liquid gold into your ears. A beautiful, flowing, melodic wall of sound embraces you like the mother you never had because she was a filthy whore.

Track 1, "Ale A Gator," opens up with a lush field of melodic vibraphones and marimbas trumpeting the arrival of Thom York's genius. A glassy string section envelopes the sound field and reminds me of the time I was doing heroin in the middle of Canterbury Park. Finally Yorke's angelic voice sweeps in, crooning the following incomprehensibly intelligent lyrics:

Ale A Gator, the world is your at your feet
With a gaping mouth and jagged teeth
Your eyes remind me of capitalism (the telephone is ringing)
And your love is love like loving eyes, I will be there for you

Ale A Gator
Ale A Gator
Dragging through your personal hell
Ale A Gator
Ale A Gator
Encrusted jewels and a kissing kill across your gentle forehead

Time for sleep
Time for sleep
Time for sleep
Time for sleep
Gentle Ale A Gator

Such raw, unrelenting beauty caressed my soul like fingertips running across my spine. The power, the genius, the immeasurable talent which escapes from this porous CD can easily overwhelm you without proper preparation. Teams of NASA scientists could spend hundreds of years attempting to discover the meaning behind Thom's words, but nobody is intelligent enough to properly do so except Thom himself and his alter-ego, Jesus Christ. Perhaps some day they will both do a duet together and we can finally see who's truly the Son of God.

As for tracks 2-9, I was unable to listen to them as I was so blown away by Radiohead's sheer power that I beat my CD player into pieces with a rake so it would never be defiled by another, inferior compact disc. I shall review the rest of the album once my dad flies back from the Hamptons and buys me a new SUV to play it in.

- Brad Stevens, April 19th, 2004