It’s often helpful to compare similarly styled bands in order for the reader of a review or opinion piece to understand the genre, type, or style of music the writer is talking about. Allow me to describe Owl City’s album Ocean Eyes in three words.
It’s freaking terrible.
Now, I’m going to elaborate on this because my beloved Editor-in-Chief will not allow me to post a 33 word review due to the fact that it lacks objectivity.
This album is twelve tracks of complete garbage. I honestly have heard very few albums that are this terrible start to finish. It’s pandering, redundant, boring, (negative adjective), (negative adjective), (negative adjective).
Musically, I’m alright with the style. Synth pop has plenty of possibilities, and if this were an instrumental album it would be gravely less offensive. The problem is, there are lyrics. And they are, quite possibly, the most brutal lyrics I have ever heard that actually were produced by a major record label onto an album that reached some form of success. This is not hyperbole, folks. I dare you to listen and not cringe at the sheer crassness of them. This is worse than anything Nickelback, Hinder, Three Doors Down, Limp Bizkit, or Clay Cunningham have ever written.
The album starts with the lyrics “Please take a long hard look through your textbook–’cause I’m history” from the song “Cave In”, and people it actually gets worse. Phrases that even out of context can be recognized as horrible. Phrases like “Golf and alcohol don’t mix–and that’s why I don’t drink and drive” from “Dental Care”, or any of the absolutely brutal abundance of metaphors that are increasingly obvious as the album progresses. Honestly, read the lyrics somewhere. They read like the diary of an English major who lacks creativity or any interesting point of view.
All twelve songs are completely interchangeable. Not one stands out, not one rises from the pack and says, “Remember Me!” Not every album has to be a concept album or anything, but not one memorable song means the album is worthless. Especially a Pop album. Pop albums should possess a number of songs that stick to your brain matter like something sticky (still a better metaphor than Owl City can put together).
What we are left with is an awful album. One that has no redeeming qualities. Rarely will you find something this completely terrible. I have listened to albums by terrible artists before, plenty of them. My mid-teens were full of terrible albums. But this one really stands out as one of the worst. I have listened to full albums by Sugar Ray, Hoobastank, and the newer Weezer albums, and somehow THIS is worse than any of those.
Final Words:
Trust me, you want nothing to do with this album. I listened to it twice just to make sure it was as terrible as I initially believed, and it is. It wears on your patience almost immediately. There is absolutely nothing of worth within it. Thank God I only checked it out at the Public Library and endured an afternoon of torture listening to it. I can’t even fathom how ashamed any one who bought the thing must feel, as they delude themselves into thinking it’s catchy and fun. I’m giving it one half of a point because it’s short. Had this been a fifty minute plus pretentious fest of a disc, I probably wouldn’t have lived to type this.
Final Score: 0.5/10 (Abysmal)
Here’s a verse from a song I wrote entitled “Prairie Afternoon:”
“And we smoochie, smoochie, smoochied and we hugged all night
Stopping only temporarily for a tickle fight.
Though I tried and tried I never again made you swoon
In the manner that I did, on that prairie afternoon”
Your move Owl City.
Pritcher and I recently started a political punk band. Here’s a section from our scathing critique of the Lincoln administration:
Hey, Abe Lincoln,
What the fuck you thinkin,’
Did someone drop a deuce?
Nah, that’s your presidency stinkin.’
And what the fuck’s the deal with that stovepipe hat?
Bitch I tried, you can’t make fuckin’ meals on that!
Me-2, Owl City-0