Weekly Fecal

Pop fluff so weak it makes Savage Garden sound like Savage Grace by comparison. It takes all of 10 seconds to realize why Verraros didn’t win his American Idol stint — because his vocals are wafer-cookie brittle and thin. Usually, production gurus can protect artists with fat, booming rhythm tracks and calculated hooks; that doesn’t happen on Rollercoaster. Verraros’ chirp is so incredibly feeble that the backing tracks are actually scaled back. This festering pile of she-goat shit gets worse, too: the monotone “Move” milks both Britney’s “I’m a Slave for You” (vocally) and No Doubt’s “Hella Good” (musically) to absolutely unlistenable levels. Really — who thought it seductive to have this tuneless, kohl-eyed clown moan, “Ollie Ollie oxen free”? The nearest bright spot is the limp Santana clone, “Forbidden Love”; that the track apes modern-day Santana isn’t bad enough, the overprocessed, synthesized guitar would have old Carlos hanging his head in shame, his years of trailblazing work reduced to soulless by-the-numbers cops for pop capital gain. How bad is this album? Locked in a room and chained to a chair, forced to endure “The Macarena” on repeat for hours at an incredible volume would make for a better afternoon.

Gary Blackwell writes about music for Metro Times. Send comments to [email protected].

Scroll to read more Music News articles


Join Detroit Metro Times Newsletters

Subscribe now to get the latest news delivered right to your inbox.