Album review

The Bacon Brothers

How excited was I to receive a copy for review of an album by the Bacon Brothers, Biffa Bacon and his wee brother Ker Pow or whatever. However, imagine my disappointment when it turns out to be that same Kevin Bacon, millionaire star of some okay and some other pretty crap Hollywood films and his less telegenic older brother, Hank (or something).

The press release mentions “blue collar” rock and they aspire to some Springsteen-esque riffing and rocking.
However, Springsteen they ain’t – I could utter the words “vanity project”, but Betty is nothing if not fair in trying to judge objectively, however it is hard, missus, to do this when Kev appears on the cover in the trademark white T shirt showing off his ruffled bouffant and pecs…(!)

The rollcall of actors who have completely failed as music fodder is as bad as the other way around, for every Steven Seagall we have a David Bowie, for every Keanu Reeves we have a Tricky… well Rutger Huaer me backwards with a broomstick, it’s about multi-tasking (the women do it this far better but we won’t talk about that today).

Anyway, the fabulous Bacon Brothers starting off a rockin’ and a rollin’ (note apostrophes complete), just regular guys y’know, no pretensions, and addressing the concerns of the common man – let’s just look at this lyrics then.

There are some worrying tendencies here – many of the songs deal with not having any money, presumably not a current problem, and one track gets all Carribbean on your arse, with terrible cod-reggae sub-police stylings. The ‘iPod Song’ is truly dreadful, a steaming pile of detritus that even Seagull might think better of.

I am looking for a Chris Morris-esque complete phrase to describe this, like “Hollywood vomit monngers” or something, but yes I do blame Keanu for this.

The music journalists union have in the past rejected Betty’s calls for a fatwa on really bad music, with no mitigating circumstances, like for example having no money (Limp Biscuit for example pled poverty during their trial). Kev’s problem is that he has a relatively successful career so there really is no excuse. While death may be a bit unfair, at least compulsory restraint orders from going anywhere near a recording studio may be in order and I will be petitioning my colleagues for a blanket ban; actually a blanket over the face may be quite a practical solution.

Be afraid Kevin, be very afraid.

(Note to Ed: possibly a few “legals” here, don’t want to imply I want to kill him but have had to listen to it a couple of times so mitigating circumstances could be cited at the trial)