Simple Plan – Get Your Heart On! album review

Reviewing Simple Plan’s fourth album is kind of like reviewing Save the Last Dance 2: what’s the friggin’ point?  The only new fans the two will ever have are the 13 and 14 year olds that presently find them entertaining, so why write a review? This record could be the London Calling of the new decade, and it still wouldn’t matter because Pierre Bouvier and his four friends once wrote a song entitled “I’m Just a Kid” and then put out two equally as shitty of albums after it. So even if the idea of fourth-time’s-the-charm existed, I think everyone ages 15-and-up can agree that Simple Plan missed their shot at artistic merit a long fucking time ago.

If MVRemix used a rating scale, I’d be hard-pressed to decide which number Get Your Heart On! deserves. A “zero” is too harsh because, although Simple Plan re-make the same song again and again with contrived lyrics, the band do exactly what their record label wants of them. They’re not paid to be award-winning artists; they’re paid to pump out cheesy singles that make boatloads of money on iTunes after their video is shown on Nickelodeon. But you can’t give Bouvier and Co. a “4” or “5” either because that would misrepresent them as underwhelming and middle-of-the-pack, which is too kind to an inartistic band whose only purpose is to write cheesy singles that will make boatloads of money on iTunes.

So I’m giving the Canadian whatevers a “1.” They get two points on the rock Richter scale for their continued effort to make album titles with sexual innuendoes, despite having a fan-base that may not even know what a hard-on is, but they lose a point for inventing phrases and smugly passing them off as though they exist. (Has any guy ever gotten a “heart-on?”)

They may not just be kids anymore, but Simple Plan are still a bunch of bubble-gum dorks riding the monetary pop wave. Despite using French lyrics on “Jet Lag” and enlisting Rivers Cuomo to Weezer-ize (I can make up words too, guys!) their writing, the quintet continue to move laterally. They’re proof that fame, fortune, and heartbreak can’t buy talent, but they’re also the unfortunate proof that lacking talent can still make you rich and famous.

By Matt Edsall

Matt's obsession with music rivals few other obsessions in his life. ("The Wire" and drinking coffee are two of them.) He resides in Los Angeles, but hopes to settle in Nashville. You can check out more at his own music blog (link below), as well as at, where he also does album reviews.

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