"I despise your so-called taste"

What do I think about Roxette's Look Sharp!? I'll tell you what I think...

  Sticking my fingers in my ears made the opening track, The Look sound a whole lot better, but not as much as putting an axe through my CD player. Like the little pop and splash that comes before the scream after accidentally lodging a knitting needle in your eye, Dressed For Success is a perversion that may actually appeal to a small group of sick f**ks hiding in a basement somewhere in Illinois. Sleeping Single sounds just like little bits of aural sh*t dripping into my brain and I can't believe it was supposed to. Call it an unfortunate accident or something.

  Say Chances three times into the mirror and Roxette will appear behind you to take you away from all this miserable sh*te. Do it. It's your only hope - the track sounds like what rancid butter smells like throughout. Dangerous is beyond belief. It sounds like a sharp nail being driven into your ear, but less fun. Give You Up (I Could Never) sounds more like a pre-teen violinist playing scales over and over in some desperate attempt to make music, tears running down their chubby cheeks with every screech than it really should.

  In fact, this should've been put down years ago.

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Maybe he have good taste after all 

Baza wrote: If you've just bought Ummagumma, take my advice and get a big black marker and scrawl all over track eleven, Narrow Way, Pt. 1 *before* you play it. If you've already played it, you no doubt know all about the gentle sound of a retarded daschund defacating through a sieve into my ears it produces from your speakers. Track 13, Narrow Way, Pt. 3 really should never be played in intelligent company if you want to retain your friends.

LOL

What do I think about Legacy by Shadow Gallery? I don't think you are going to like this...

  For f**k's sake, who decided that something not too dissimilar to my own personal hell should grace the world's musical heritage? Plonk Cliffhanger 2: A) Hang On/B) The Crusher on your CD player and tell me Shadow Gallery should be allowed to live. Go on. I dare you. I had to abandon listening to track 2, Destination Unknown after my nose and ears began to bleed. Like a late 80s mobile phone ring, track 4, Society Of The Mind is a perversion that may actually appeal to a small group of sick f**ks hiding in a basement somewhere in Illinois.

  Once music was a simple thing. People played a jolly tune into a recording device, people played it and danced about a bit. Now we need professional psychiatric care for an audience assaulted by the likes of track five, Legacy on a regular basis. Why I bothered with the rest of track 6, First Light after listening to the first thirteen seconds of the elephant man attempting to whistle the birdie song I don't know.

  In fact, a fruits of the forest yoghurt has more cultural significance.

Deep Purple? Oh my God. I thought Deep Purple's fans died out years ago. I remember Machine Head as being particularly awful...

  The opening track, Highway Star sounds like 'Grandma we love you'. Only my dentist's favourite drill bits being plunged into the living tooth-pulp over and over again while he hums bad gangster rap gently to himself could compare to Pictures Of Home. Ten people died whilst Never Before was being created. I can only say that they are the lucky ones and missed out on what sounds like a crow fellating an elephant.

  Smoke On The Water made my cat sick. Twice. I think I'm going to sue. The sound of something my cat brought in, but couldn't be bothered to kill that track six, Lazy so accurately reproduces is relieved only by the fact there are no pictures to go with it. Too much track thirteen, Pictures Of Home is bad for your health. I recommend taking up injecting heroin into your eyeballs instead. It tickles a bit, but the rush is awesome.

  In fact, I'm scared Deep Purple will reproduce and foist a new generation of crud on us.

LMAO

What do I think about Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd? I'll tell you what I think...

  The opening track, Speak To Me/Breathe is about as hip as my sister's attempts at the Lambada. It's a vision of hell that not many people live to see, I promise you. Money isn't that bad. Ha ha. Got you. It's just a tiny bit worse than, say, the sound of the sort of thing you'd play to a blind man to make them appreciate the lot of a deaf and blind man. Any Colour You Like is like the little pop and splash that comes before the scream after accidentally lodging a knitting needle in your eye, and I'm being generous there.

  Track eight, Brain Damage? No, no, no, no and no. Horrible. Like Monica Seles' serve grunts looped repeatedly over three hamsters attempting to play the drums.

  In fact, I'm scared Pink Floyd will reproduce and foist a new generation of crud on us.

This one didn't quite work so well ...

"You like Jethro Tull? Oh dear. You're not going to like what I thought of Thick As a Brick...

  The sound of my mother trying to fart through a tuba that track 3, the 'Live At Madison Square Garden 1978' of Thick As A Brick so accurately reproduces is relieved only by the fact there are no pictures to go with it. Interview With Ian Anderson, Martin Barre & Jeffrey Hammond-Hammond sounds just like the sickening crunch you'd hear just after the guillotine blade has fallen and just before your head does the same and I can't believe it was supposed to. Call it an unfortunate accident or something.

  In fact, I wish Jethro Tull had never been born.

What do I think about Marillion's Script for a Jester's Tear? I don't think you are going to like this...

You've probably guessed that I don't like Marillion very much. It's due to being assaulted by things like the crap usually hosted on geocities by colour blind web idiots, or track 5, Chelsea Monday as it is known on the back of CD. How many times does Marillion need to tell us all about their miserable f**king life? Forgotten Sons just reeks of teenage bedroom poetry and should have stayed there.

What do I think about American Idiot by Green Day? I don't think you are going to like this...

 The sound of the last gasp of a boiling lobster that the opening track, American Idiot so accurately reproduces is relieved only by the fact there are no pictures to go with it. Like the theme to Friends, track two, Jesus of Suburbia fails to engage me at all. It left me cold, shaking and gently drooling on the floor. Thank god the office cleaner found me in time. Three people died whilst Tales Of Another Broken Home was being created. I can only say that they are the lucky ones and missed out on what sounds like a retarded cow defacating through a sieve into my ears.

  Are We Waiting sounds like a christmas novelty sing-along hit in Estonia. St. Jimmy is like nails being slowly drawn down a blackboard by the Marquis De Sade, and I'm being generous there. The sound of a dawn chorus of cats slowly being ground into mince for the cheap meat market is nothing compared to the dire Extraordinary Girl.

  In fact, I wish Green Day had never been born.

I agree 100%