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Sharp Practise: Radiocity

24/11/08 || The Duff

There are many times when I feel bad for the bands I rip into with my canine teeth of masculinity, the coup de grace involving battering their collective brutalized torso into the ground with my oversized testes of iron-cast bulk, but when a band’s shit, you gotsta be there for your fellow metal peepz. It would seem that ever since megastar rap producer Timberland contacted us saying “Please don’t bash my new album, yo, I’ll give you moneyz, fo’ realz.”, GD became a hot little piece of domain-ass, because the site’s recognition has become a lot more widespread if Sharp Practise is anything to go by – this is not a metal band; this is drab softcore rock I should imagine that cocksucker Neil Young writes when making a sandwich and thinking about how good the organic wheat-germ bread’s texture feels frictioning beneath his foreskin – and goddamn does it suck ballz. Neil Young’s ballz.

The influences are a little country, a little rock, some lazy funk, some cheesy disco/light-prog (or whatever was big in the 80’s… Morrisey?), and a whole shitload of sappy; yup, some terrible bands make this job fun, for about the first paragraph – then it’s a case of stretching out the descriptors so as not to reveal your very apparent weaknesses as a constructive, preferably objective reviewer: I am neither of these things, but I know music with no fucken soul, and this shit is about as plain and lackluster as can be. Occasionally, the band will bring out a little bit of Cream influence, but with Mötley Crüe stylings, a band which we know has never and will never release a decent tune, and although it’s not a word I like to use, it being one commonly brought into play by people trying to appear smarter than they really are (another example being “literally”, the most commonly misused word in the English language – like “I literally took a shit this morning – LITERALLY!”), this music here is best described as saccharine, but in an empty calorie kind of way, like popcorn or toffee coated shit. Yup, pretty clever I be.

Queue guitar solo here, harmonica there, saxophone too? Why not. Unenthralling drum fills? Yup. Insert where necessary, and coat it all with the beautiful sunshine happiness that comes with living life; can you breathe it in? Makes yer heart melt. The lyrics of this fucken thing I cannot believe, and although I don’t know anything about the respective outputs of either (lying through my teeth here), I would expect this is the kinda lyrical ground covered by Dave Matthews Band, Jack Johnson and the likes; y’know, (whilst clicking fingers): “Got outta bed/Played my guitar/Walked down the stairs/Why aren’t you making me breakfast?/Oh right, you left me/Why do I cry?/I play my guitar/People in big houses/People walking down stairs/We all live the same/We all live the same/I miss your pussy/Just give me a slice of toast/Some freshly squeezed orange juice/And a bit o’ your pussy/Why am I a pussy?“ (the vocals are all kindsa suck). I bet you one of these guys is into scatology. Goddamn it, I hate this shit so much – I shall do the band the service of shutting the fuck up already, ‘cos this clearly is not my thing, and I’m tired of desiring to coat their faces with my blood which would read a pH of about 3 at this point (some of the guitar solos are alright).

The album cover featured is the single, the full-album artwork is pretty much the same but greyish.

1 can’t believes I have one more of these fuckers to do out of 10.

Information
Released: 2008
Label: Vic Records
Website: www.sharppractise.com
Band
Nigel Clothier: vocals
Jason Lawrence: drums
Greg Griffin: bass
Ben Carter: guitars

Tracklist
01. Bridge Across The Harbour
02. No Thanks
03. Bed Of Rhythm
04. Morgan’s Creek
05. How Katie Feels
06. Choice Not Freedom
07. Family of Nations
08. Paint My Dreams
09. Light Of The Day
10. How Do You Take It?

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