"I despise your so-called taste"

^

Ah well atleast he listens to Mars volta and thats more complex than either of the bands

Led Zeppelin's Physical Graffiti, an object lesson in filth...

  The chorus of track three, In My Time Of Dying will haunt me for years to come, sounding as it does like the elephant man attempting to whistle a Eurovision reject. Ten years of therapy and still I'm reduced to a gibbering wreck by things like track five, Trampled Underfoot. Kashmir reminds me of nails being slowly drawn down a blackboard by the Marquis De Sade. I wish it wouldn't.

  People have accused my reviews of being generated by a computer. Well, of course they are. You think anyone in their right mind would listen to Led Zeppelin all day? I'm all digital baby. Like Shaddapa ya face, track nine, Down By The Seaside 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. Led Zeppelin sound like my father's aborted attempts at sex with a bee throughout the apocalyptic mess that is Ten Years Gone.

  In fact, I wish Led Zeppelin had never been born.

Greg Lake? Oh my God. I thought Greg Lake's fans died out years ago. I remember From the Beginning Anthology as being particularly awful...

  Too much track 3, Knife Edge (Elp) is bad for your health. I recommend taking up injecting heroin into your eyeballs instead. It tickles a bit, but the rush is awesome. For f**k's sake, who decided that something not too dissimilar to the stuff that the BBC Radiophonic Workshop rejected should grace the world's musical heritage? Plonk the 'Elp' of From The Beginning on your CD player and tell me Greg Lake should be allowed to live. Go on. I dare you. Like a rusty saw being slowly dragged through my mother's genitalia, the 'Pete Sinfield' of Still is only really listenable after carefully inserting your fists into your ears. Don't worry about getting them out again - there's more on this album you'll want to not hear too.

  The lyrics of track eight, the 'Elp' of Still You Turn Me On would make better sense written on a urinal wall - at least you could piss on them. Jerusalem (Elp) is beyond belief. It sounds like the little ticking noise that maggots make as they feed. Luckily my PC at work has no sound card. I've been happily playing track 10, Karn Evil 9 1st Impression (Elp) all afternoon with no ill effects to myself.

  In fact, I'm unable to understand how people can pay money to be tortured in this way.

Quite correct description, if this is automatically generated, it's funny it should pick "Still you turn me on" that may have the worst lyrics ever!     

this site was lame, I typed in Fish for favorite singer, he replied bagging on Reel Big Fish.  I typed in YYZ for favorite song and talked about Boomers YYZ which apparently is a band or something.  Then I tried Karn Evil 9 and this was the response:

Hmm, you've got me there. I've never heard of "Karn Evil 9" ...

... but I'm sure it's like the stuff that the BBC Radiophonic Workshop rejected.

Hmm, you've got me there. I've never heard of "Da Zeuhl Wortz Mekanik" ...

... but I'm sure it's like my sister's aborted attempts at sex with a cat.

What do I think about Metallica's Master of Puppets? I'll tell you what I think...

  Master Of Puppets is like a Kerrang! cover CD that actually caused a drop in sales, and I'm being generous there. Metallica will strike fear into your heart with possibly the worst song on a bad album, the appalling track three, The Thing That Should Not Be. It sounds like a cheap keyboard being played by a God-fearing christian fund raiser outside Tesco's. Like generic death metal, the 'Sanitarium' of Welcome Home 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.

  I had to abandon listening to track 5, Disposable Heroes after my nose and ears began to bleed. For f**k's sake, who decided that something not too dissimilar to aural herpes should grace the world's musical heritage? Plonk Orion on your CD player and tell me Metallica should be allowed to live. Go on. I dare you.

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

I've tried to wipe The Soft Machine's Bundles from my mind, but, for you, here's what I can remember...

  Only the insistent beep beep beep of the irritatingly stupid videogame that the over stimulated brat in the seat next to you has been playing for the last seven hours out of Chicago could compare to track two, Hazard Profile Part 2. It's things like track six, Gone Sailing that makes people want to kill each other. I've heard better things than Peff at my son's playschool end of term concert in which every small child has been given something to make a noise with regardless of talent, motivation or the ability to count to four without drooling.

  The Floating World? No, no, no, no and no. Horrible. Like a coked-up Andrew Lloyd-Webber writing a never-ending stream of musical obscenities dribbling through my ears and out onto the carpet.

  In fact, I wish The Soft Machine had never been born.

You like Jean-Michel Jarre? Oh dear. You're not going to like what I thought of Equinoxe...

  On second listening Equinoxe Part 1 starts sounding a little better, a bit more muffled and a little less like that bloke in your office who hums to himself continuously oblivious to the number of people who plot to fill his mouth and nose with cement on a daily basis. Or is that because I've strapped a twelve tog duvet around my head to block out the evil nastiness? You decide. Like the sort of thing that fills the floor at my local hospital's 'mentally challenged' disco nite, track two, Equinoxe Part 2 is a perversion that may actually appeal to a small group of sick f**ks hiding in a basement somewhere in Illinois. For fu*k's sake, who decided that something not too dissimilar to the sickening crunch you'd hear just after the guillotine blade has fallen and just before your head does the same should grace the world's musical heritage? Plonk Equinoxe Part 3 on your CD player and tell me Jean-Michel Jarre should be allowed to live. Go on. I dare you.

  It's things like Equinoxe Part 5 that makes people want to kill each other. What possesses people to make music that sounds like Equinoxe Part 7? The b*****d lovechild of Joe Dolce and Mariah Carey? I'm not offering further opinion because I'm not listening to it again. Ever. Equinoxe Part 8 is beyond belief. It sounds like a dawn chorus of cats slowly being ground into mince for the cheap meat market.

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

Well, I had to go for it...

I've tried to wipe Magma's Mekanik Destruktiw Kommandoh from my mind, but, for you, here's what I can remember...

  Hortz Fur Dehn Stekehn West is beyond belief. It sounds like the sort of thing that fills the floor at my local hospital's 'mentally challenged' disco nite. I had to abandon listening to Ima Suri Dondai after my nose and ears began to bleed. Seventeen years of therapy and still I'm reduced to a gibbering wreck by things like Da Zeuhl Wortz Mekanik.

  In fact, there appears to be no reason why the world would miss Magma.

Quite mild in comparison with some of the comments I've read and heard over the years !

Some of my favorite albums:

Supertramp's Crime of the Century, an object lesson in filth...

  Track two, Bloody Well Right is beyond belief. It sounds like the elephant man attempting to whistle 'Grandma we love you'. Luckily my PC at work has no sound card. I've been happily playing track 3, Hide in Your Shell all afternoon with no ill effects to myself. Track 4, Asylum isn't that bad. Ha ha. Got you. It's just a tiny bit worse than, say, the sound of a hamster being gently castrated with some nice rusty pliers.

  Sticking my fingers in my ears made Dreamer sound a whole lot better, but not as much as putting an axe through my CD player. The sound of something that has been banned under the Geneva Convention, but is still used by the US to break down interrogation subjects that If Everyone Was Listening so accurately reproduces is relieved only by the fact there are no pictures to go with it. Crime of the Century really should never be played in intelligent company if you want to retain your friends.

  In fact, I'm unable to understand how people can pay money to be tortured in this way.

What do I think about Frank Zappa & The Mothers of Invention's Grand Wazoo? I don't think you are going to like this...

  The opening track, The Grand Wazoo is so so. So, so, so f**king awful, that is. Track two, the 'And His Next Two Hitch-Hikers' of For Calvin could be mistaken for what rancid butter smells like if you don't listen very carefully, and, believe me, you don't want to. 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 is nothing compared to the dire track 3, Cletus Awreetus-Awrightus.

  Eat That Question sounds like the little ticking noise that maggots make as they feed from its start right through to its (bleated) finish. Track five, Blessed Relief isn't that bad. Ha ha. Got you. It's just a tiny bit worse than, say, the sound of that buzzing, ringing sound you get if you stick your fingers in a wall socket.

  In fact, there's no excuse for people buying this and taking it into their homes to tortute their innocent children.

What do I think about V: The New Mythology Suite by Symphony X? I'll tell you what I think...

  Fallen could be mistaken for Shaddapa ya face if you don't listen very carefully, and, believe me, you don't want to. Just because the whole album stinks doesn't mean you can get away with offerings like track six, The Bird-Serpent War/Cataclysm - I'm still reeling from the onslaught of what sounds like that bloke in your office who hums to himself continuously oblivious to the number of people who plot to fill his mouth and nose with cement on a daily basis. Track 10, Absence Of Light sounds like the sort of hold music that loses customers not to your competitors but to the undertakers from its start right through to its (bleated) finish.

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