Thursday, March 25, 2010

Coheed and Cambria - Second Stage Turbine Blade

Coheed and Cambria - Second Stage Turbine Blade
Published in 2002

First off, I want to thank Zach's friend Luke, who probably doesn't even remember suggesting this album or who the fuck I am.  As the first person who I don't know personally to suggest an album, I want to say thank you and hope that you will leave a comment or something.

This was written on my iPod just so you know, so if there are any crazily innappropriate mistakes, that is why.  Well, not the ideas, if those are bad, that is all me.

Coheed and Cambria is a difficult band for me to get into and an even harder one for me to write about.  It is a study in contrasts. They play some awesome rock and roll. They obviously know how to make a catchy song. They really like playing their instruments. And they remind me of the best parts of Rush (and if you hate Rush, you've got a severe mental block against awesomely cheesey rock).

Then there is the other side of them. The side that chooses to do the looney tunes interlude, just like Dream Theater, but actually more out of place than in that album.  They have the 'whispery breathy deep voices talking over our songs is awesome and not stupid' weirdness that just doesn't turn me on at all. And then there is the Cousin Jerry effect.

I feel like a prick for doing this, but I feel like I have to.  This is what I picture in my head. Coheed and Cambria are sitting in the garage that they practice in, between epic d and d sessions and listening to progressive rock. Then momma C&C comes out into the garage and tells them that they need to include their Cousin Jerry in the band, because he is not having fun, and she won't take no for an answer.  Cousin Jerry doesn't have any musical ability per se, but he really really likes screamcore and really really is being forced into the band by mom. So Cousin Jerry becomes the guy who screams in the background, behind the choruses and shit and drives me up the goddamn wall.

Just when I am getting into a song, just when I really am enjoying it, fucking Jerry comes in and pops a blood vessel in his brain by screaming. The fucking song is so good and enjoyable and that prick comes in and ruins it. It sounds like someone is just attempting to piss me off. Through my ear. It sounds how I must imagine syphilis must feel when you are just trying to take a nice long satisfying piss.

I'm listening to it right now, and it just stresses me out. Fucking every other part of the band, I am a hundred percent behind. But that prick makes me wish that I had a time machine so I could go back to the studio and fucking cut his mic and slap him around a bit for inflicting that scream-y shit on me.

The amount of vitriol in this post is probably a little overboard but I really want to enjoy this album. I just want the whole to be more like 33 where they attempted to use harmony instead of just fucking yelling. This is a really good album and the band has a ton of talent. If they could just dump Cousin Jerry, this album would definately be not optional, but that is the price you pay when you make my ears bleed with stupid decisions. And yes, I realize that this is probably someone's favorite part of the band, and that this is just like, my opinion, man, but it really did drive me up the wall that much.

Anyway, thanks again to Luke and I hope he'll suggest more albums that I'll he a complete and utter prick about and spew a bunch more words about.  Once again, I want to say I liked everything else about this album, so if c&c got rot of that guy, give me that album, and I'll sing it's praises.

It's two hundred miles to Chicago, we've got a full tank of gas, half a pack or cigarettes, it's dark out and we're wearing sunglasses,

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