Southwestern College Collegian

Issue date: 3/12/08 Section: Music Column

Experiencing bad music is like buying a scoop of strawberry ice cream, but the banana flavor was in the same freezer. You're left on the verge of a temper tantrum. That's how I felt after exploring a new music venue and listening to the most pathetic excuse for music I have ever heard. I have been craving some new music, so I turned to the wonderful world of the internet. I consider myself open and versatile in music taste. And after browsing dozens of artists I finally landed on one which seemed safe. The artist, Stephen Malkums. The album, "Real Emotional Trash." I chose this album because of the catchy song titles like "Hopscotch Willie," and "Wicked Wanda." Whoa Nelly was that a bad move. It began with "Dragonfly Pie," which started off acoustic, then aimlessly wandered into eighties rock, and then came the guitar solos to make you quiver. I should have known this album was headed toward disaster. The next track is "Cold Son." It begins bland. Malkum does not sell his product. His voice strangely resembles Issac Brock from Modest Mouse, the only difference is that Malkums might have a collapsed trachea. Snippets of the song also imitate that of the Beatles, like the sound bits of people yelling and laughing at the end of the songs. The lyrics don't make sense. Not to mention none of the lyrics tie together. He must play Scrabble and all the words on the board are thrown into sentences and dashed in between the dull ten minute guitar solos. One such line was in "Wicked Wanda." It said, "A pretty little spider with Hollywood inside her."Did I miss something? I am darn sure this is not a metaphor for anything, so what does it mean? The madness continues, "Moral trap with no time to make thunder." I thought I must have heard something wrong but that is what the lyrics said. It got to a point where I simply shut my eyes and prayed it would end. But it didn't. In "Gardenia," I found, "Strike me square into the arms of the air." Then Malkum boldly states, "I feel like a junk contraption." Bravo. This was the highlight of the album. Never again will I judge an album solely by the witty song titles. Unless I want to experience "Real Emotional Trash." Samantha Gillis is a freshman majoring in journalism. You may e-mail her at samantha.gillis@sckans.edu.

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