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everyone's a critic

everyone's a critic

Man, this will make reviewing music for Blogcritics so much easier.

Of course, the Robot Rock Critic works best with fake bands.

Saddman And The Weapons Of Mass Destruction Diary of a Mad Band

Underneath their antics lies a sultry artistic maturity that reveals how they have grown since they were young punks. Don't call it a comeback -- Saddam And The Weapons Of Mass Destruction has been here for years -- but never with such aggressive emotional honesty. An amibitious concept album about Brian Eno and sci-fi visions of tomorrow, the main dish of this self-aware meal is the muddily-produced "Poster Child, Running Wild." Until now, Saddam And The Weapons Of Mass Destruction was principally known as a explosive live act.

A penchant for leather-clad bravado makes Now That You Mention It truly quietly assured.

Saddam And The Weapons Of Mass Destruction's angst is truly compelling, all thanks to the street smart production by Brian Eno.

Saddam And The Weapons Of Mass Destruction superimposes lyrics about the universal brotherhood of man and cross-dressing over throbbing bass lines.

Saddam And The Weapons Of Mass Destruction gained a reputation early on for being savvy.

It may well be the most important purchase you make, ever.

Of course, what good would one of these random generator things be if one didn't apply it to blogs?

Blogs as bands, reviewed by a snarling bot: (excerpts only)

Vodka Pundit: Vodka Pundit understands that recycling musical styles is a pop tradition that's older than the blues.

Electric Bugaloo: His tunelessness has made him the hero of a whole new generation. Electric Bugaloo superimposes lyrics about conformity and mental illness over throbbing bass lines. Electric Bugaloo gained a reputation early on for being self-aware.

Jill Matrix: Jill Matrix can be hard to swallow, but her willingness to break boundaries makes her worthwhile.

The World Wide Rant: The World Wide Rant is unsafe at any speed. "What On Earth Do You Mean" won't win any Grammies this year. The same obsessions -- self-loathing and homeless prophets -- are here in spades.

The Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: A penchant for skull-crushing agony makes "Parabola Paratroopers" truly explosive. The Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler's noise is truly bittersweet....[and has] gained a reputation early on for being formidable. Don't call it a comeback -- The Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler has been here for years -- but never with such headbanging pandemonium.

Solonor's Ink Well: If you enjoy introspective swagger, you'll like the latest release from Solonors Ink Well. Strictly for masochists.

Yes, I'll stop now. Maybe.

Thanks to Todd of Demented and Sad, But Social for the link.

Oh, one more: Demented and Sad, But Social: You would have to be a total idiot to buy this superficial album. This stuff wouldn't sound out of place in a Chilean torture den.

Heh.

Comments

Well, the same minds responsible for the rock critic machine have also generated one for warbloggers. You can find it here.

Wow that one is good:

Refusing to stand behind the President, Islamists would rather engage in shockingly cunning baying as usual. "'Department of Homeland Security?' What the fuck is this, Brazil?" as Noam Chomsky said last week.

Noam Chomsky and his appeasing leftoids are at it again. "Maybe we could compare this to another war besides World War II for a change," he said in a dream I recently had. It is tempting to accept this verdict as all the proof needed that President Bush is solidly on the right track. But the argument needs to be addressed, not because it is foolish but because it is the fashion among fools, and because those fools are unmistakably ideological fools.

"Don't hurt me," says Noam Chomsky. Grumble, grumble, grumble. The truth makes the funny little creatures who make up the vile elite resort to wildly emotional insults and cries of "unconstitutional!"

We must help faith-based credibility.

Last week Noam Chomsky went so far as to leave the mainstream completely and enter a kind of handwringing alternate universe of political treachery. At some point, when you look around and realize that your co-workers are bloviating and outrageous, you have to break rank and become a Republican, if only for the sake of a moral movement and good hygiene, morally speaking.

When will Noam Chomsky come clean about the way he misrepresents Prime Minister Blair?

We rocked that Chilean torture den, thankyouverymuch.

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