The Lashes
Get It
Is it possible for a band to have schizophrenia? It seems as if The Lashes have copied almost every indie-pop band that hit it big in 2005. Their music is so un-original and sappy that it seems the band has no personality of its own. The most entertaining part about the whole band is listening to the vocalist put on a faux European accent and attempt to sing about heartbreak. The Lashes are disposable and terminally boring. Some call them “catchy”, and that’s easy when one line is repeated about 20 times per song. It frightens me that this album is actually their major label debut, I weep for the future when I hear bands like this on the airwaves. That makes me wonder, which fashion-core twat did they blow backstage at a Ricky Martin show to get their signing? The same guy that gave them the nine or so hardware belts the guy’s got on the album cover. Seattle doesn’t usually produce such crap music. We all know where our beloved Fall of Troy and Soundgarden hailed from. I’m done with ranting for now, I need a breather. Not to mention the Mountain Dew that is screaming my name.
I managed to type that all in about one and a half minutes. Not out of typing skills, but the intense anger that this band gives me. To be honest, I’ve been planning on reviewing this album for quite some time. It’s been in my head for months. Sometimes I’d lay in bed unable to sleep because I was stuck thinking on how I could utterly destroy this band with words. I also don’t like to write negative reviews, because I don’t like pissing people off with my opinion. So there I was, dreaming about angering everyone on MX, and then being held down and punched in the face by every member in the Pop/Punk thread. I’ve been dreading this review, but I’m going to give it my all. Oh yeah, this album was recommended to me by a girl that wouldn’t leave me alone on Myspace. Yeah, pretty lame. I blocked that hoe.
For those of you that enjoy this album, I feel I must be more descriptive than my first paragraph up there. Basically, this paragraph will describe why I’d rather someone pull the plug on me in the hospital than be forced to listen to this during bypass surgery. For one, the lyrics are absolute trash. They’re the most basic and elementary as can be. I wouldn’t be surprised if 5th grade kids put on a show with these to tell you the truth. This is a line taken from the band’s hit song “Sometimes The Sun”. “Sometimes the sun goes down/Sometimes it comes back up/I'm wondering which one you're watching now”. Now I’m not going to even bother stressing that there is only one sun in the universe. The Lashes are just dying to sound like
The Strokes or
Hot Hot Heat and they know it. You can even sense that they attempt to begin songs quite –esquy of
My Chemical Romance. The song “New Best Friend” sounds as if it could be an MCR song.
The instrumentation is simplistic. I’m sure that one or two of the songs on “Get It” can go all the way through without changing its single rhythmic note. I’m also esteemed to say that “Pop Song” is the worst song that I have ever heard. The guitars in that song rip on a trillion songs by having that “duh---dah-duh-clickity click click click” riff. For the curious ones out there, you can download the song to hear what I mean, but I recommend filling the ears with cottonballs to filter out the other sounds. Let’s forget about that audible tragedy, and talk about the rest of the album. Well, basically it’s the same epidemic that infected the rest of the album. It’s nothing new to the table. The sound is poppy, generic, and un-original.
The Lashes are a Hot-Topic orgasm. They are the most un-original band of 2006 and thus have released the worst album I have heard in a long time. Their music is all the same, and none of the songs touch a few seconds over four minutes (thank God). “Get It” is an array of lame and simplistic songs about nothing. Whether the band members think there are two suns, or if they want to get into your party, it’s what they write about. I’m not even sure if listening to this album is humane enough for the Iraqi prisoners. The point is, this album deserves no listening at all. There is not one redeeming track here for me to raise my rating any higher than a one. My God have mercy on every one of the band members’ souls.
Fat girls unite, because it’s no longer cool to ride in a convertible blasting Simple Plan.
If I’m negged for sharing a personal and honest opinion, then I’ll spray fart in your cereal
