Review Summary: Viva Las Sex Offender
Brendon Urie is an idiot. Despite his talents, the man refuses to use them. Panic’s latest effort is dead on arrival, filled to the brim with bull*** faux indie pop rock snoozers.
The bands style has never remained consistent, with each album having its own distinct identity for the most part. This album is no different, but the identity it has is detrimental to its enjoyability. Even the worst Panic albums had catchy hooks, the kind that stay in your brain for weeks. This album hasn’t got one. “Shut up and go to bed” isn’t a hook, it’s what Panic! fans now use as a retort when Brendon’s sexual misconduct allegations resurface!
“Middle of a Breakup” is the worst song the band have ever written. The lyrics are abysmal, and that’s saying something coming from the band who wrote “Lying is the most fun”. “Don’t Let the Lights Go Out” I initially believed was a cover song, only to discover it is in fact a completely original track. I’m using “original” very loosely here, because the song sounds like every ballad ever written all blended into one foul tasting smoothie.
In “Star Spangled Banger” the band shamelessly rip of Thin Lizzy. The song is so painfully embarrassing to listen to, Brendon straining his vocals throughout. “God Killed Rock and Roll” features the band ripping off THEMSELVES by emulating the sound from Pretty Odd. The lyrics mention Buddy Holly, who was clearly a huge influence on this albums sound, going for a 70’s pop rock aesthetic, and you have to wonder why? Panic! have always, even in their early years, been a pop band. Dropping that to put out a boring car advert music album can only be the result of Brendon trying to distance himself from the allegations against him.
“Say It Louder” is one of the better tracks, using electronic elements and actually sounding like a Panic! track. Lyrically it is another “don’t kill yourself, you’re so unique and cool” song, and whilst the message behind it is always good to hear, the rest of the album devalues it by sounding so bad. “Sugar Soaker” immediately plunges us back into the 70’s pop rock depths, sounding like a really bad AC/DC b-side. Simultaneously, Brendon tries some faux-Elvis vocals and sounds like a child trying to imitate a deep voice. The lyrics, particularly “you’re a car, you’re a woman, you’re a drug” made this reviewer roll my eyes, but also scratch my head. I am not sure how progressive it is to compare a woman to an environment destroying machine AND narcotics in one line, but outside of that it just sounds like Urie used auto-fill whilst writing a lot of this.
“Something About Maggie” is a monotonous Beatles riff, however Brendon’s vocals are actually pretty okay on this one. He’s not pushing himself to notes he can’t hit or sustain, but this song, and most or all of this album, just sounds like something you’ve heard a million times before. It’s got no soul. The remaining tracks are all exactly the same, “Sad Clown” sounds like it belongs on the Grease soundtrack. “All By Yourself” sounds somewhat like “All By Myself” by Celine Dion, only with a 70’s pop rock instrumental, and closing track “Do It to Death” sounds again like the Grease soundtrack. They harken back to the “Shut up and go to bed” lyric, further cementing a battle cry their fans can use when losing in a shouting match in the YouTube comments section.
This album was a slog to get through. It’s not just unoriginal in concept and execution, it’s boring. Really really boring. And at the end of the day, that’s worse than listening to something like Corey Feldman or William Control because at least they provide some laughs whilst you listen, they’re so bad they’re good. This album? It’s empty of entertainment, devoid of personality, and is a stark reminder of how much Brendon refuses to use his talents.
