I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again and I’ll say it seven thousand more times, a four piece rock band does not need amazing production values. That which makes them charming (that can do, garage spirit) is bastardized through filtration and distilled into a sound of manufactured fury. It means nothing. Maroon Five can get away with nonsense like that because after ten plus years of doing their thing, they’ve chased themselves into a corner, but that hyper-perfected world of studios and VEVO channels leaves little room to grow, little room for development and little room for anyone to give a flying fuck.
This is a band of guys whose success might as well be attributed to the marketing man who thought, “we need a mix between indie and mainstream.” They are the product of the man who took a look at hipster glasses and said, “I think that’s a market I could make money off of.” And they did! They sold the advertisement money to some television network to promote a police show I’ve never heard of. The ad lasted thirty seconds, my interest in the music lasted a minute. That’s a good return for the marketing guy.
When I hear a big name that’s put out a perfected studio album, I just don’t care on a regular scale. When I hear about a band I’ve never heard of before putting out a studio perfected album I: (Here it comes)
Care so little that the Higgs Boson particles in the regions of my brain responsible for caring about bullshit abandon the quarks they are assigned to leave this four dimensional space, run into the future where humanity is long gone and then listen to something more pleasant. Something like the sound of a star exploding, creating an atmosphere around a molten planet filled with highly vocal life forms that die fizzle and suffer and still. STILL. Their pain is nothing compared to the monetized nonsense that I put my ears at risk for.
It’s not that they’re bad. It’s not that they’re not as good as their advertising money merits. It’s that it seems as though that this was their aim. This was what they dreamed of. They went from label, to self produced back to this. Going rogue and being an artist didn’t do it for them. They wanted to go back to their comfortable studio lives. They wanted their paycheck. They wanted to phone it in. I now am fully aware of what the term, “phony” means. I feel it in my bones.