Thursday, February 2, 2012

Where's my dogs at?

One of the many services I wanted to provide with the inception of Manifest Clandestine-y was to actually write straight-up album reviews.  Honest-to-goodness.  Yes, in addition to being a shameless weirdo, I am also quite unabashedly a huge music snob.  A fact that has been brought to my attention numerous times by the most critical people in my life; past girlfriends.  For example:

Girlfriend "A": "What do you mean you can't stand hearing the new Ashlee Simpson CD for three weeks straight?  Ugh, you're such a music snob."

Girlfriend "G": "You listen to weird older people's music(e.g. apparently anything that came out before 1998.).  Let's listen to my iPod."  (Scroll through her iPod... The Fray, Sublime, Collective Soul, Nickelback(!!!), Paula Cole, you get the picture.  I made fun of her.) "OMG, you're such a music snob.  People at work think you're a weirdo, and they don't like you."

Sure, Gin--- uuuh, I mean, "Girlfriend G" was right, and probably about both statements.  But the fact that no one likes me will be a rich and fruitful topic for a blog entry another night.  For now, we are utilizing my innate musical snobbery to take on an album review.

...And of course, I couldn't pick a serious album to examine, oh Heavens-to-Murgatroyd no!  So what ended up on the chopping block for Manifest Clandestine-y's first album review?

None other than Jaime Broza's "I Want a Dog".  


I happened upon Broza's album at, of all places, my place of employment Whole Foods.  Yes, in addition to providing folks with the highest quality, all-natural food around, we now sell CD's up front... music that, just like any product, is good for your soul.  Gluten-free, macrobiotic, hormone-free(this is untrue, I saw the new Nickelback<wtf??> release up front), and ready to cleanse and renew your spirit just as though you just finished an intense Zumba session and ate a Cliff Bar.   C'mon man, being a white, upper-class Hinghamite is tough!  

~ "I Want A Dog"managed to catch my eye for a couple reasons.  For one, the title (which is about as subtle as the colossal dog on the cover's testicles) is clearly a bold promulgation.  Right to the point.  Kid wants dog.  And you know, it's that the kid wants a dog.  Doesn't need it.  The child recognizes there is a clear-cut difference between what is essential for him/her to live, and what he/she desires.  Sure, maybe if this were the Bronze Age, or you were living in Siberia and were short one husky on your sleigh, you might be in the position to say that you "need" a dog.  But the kid knew his priorities and chose to express himself appropriately.  A "please" would have been nice, but let's not split hairs.
~ The other reason is considerably more cynical, and starts to explore how I positively loathe children's records.  What purpose does it serve?  Just introduce your child to real music at a young age.  I guarantee good things will come from it.  I guarantee.  Children's records were basically created to drive parents to the brinks of madness and serve no other purpose.  I just don't believe in the genre.   I feel like music doesn't need training wheels, get that youngin' listening to John Coltrane right off the bat!  I digress.  
Honestly, just a quick perusing through the track listing was enough to inspire me to do an album review.  Sure, I'm an immature, soulless prick who can take anything as pure as a children's album and find several ways, backwards and forwards, to pervert it for my own cheap amusement.  That's the sad part.  I'm not even trying to impress other people, this is purely to satisfy my own sick sense of humor.  

... I digress.   Keep in mind that I am a grown-up, and thus was pretty much incapable of actually listening to more than 8-15 seconds of each of these tracks.  At this point I can't even really consider this a proper album review(nor can I can this a proper album).   Fuck it, let's give this a go.

1) I Like Dogs
This is literally a spoken word track of Broza asking a little boy if he wants a dog(sounding suspiciously like he might have a "puppy" in his giant trenchcoat).  Little boy responds with "Yes".  "Why?" Broza inquires of the boy... to which he responds "I like dogs".  

Yes, this exchange happened, and was put to tape.  Award-winning stuff.   This of course leads us right into....

2) I Want a Dog
His overwhelming desire to own a dog; set to this jazzy little country-folk track.  Again, my head hurts too much to delve into this any further.   On a scale from 1 to 10, I rate this song a borderline retarded 2.  

3) Waters of March
An odd sophisticated bossa-nova track sung by both child and Broza... subject matter is lost on me.  It's just irritating enough to be a children's song, but I honestly can't picture any child enjoying a bossa nova track.  This is starting to get weird. 

At this point I decided that an accompanying lyrics sheet may aid the process so I don't actually have to listen to the whole song.  Yes, for an album review.   Drats, I can't fucking find one.  

4) Turn That Phone Off
Okay, now this song was just sad.  From what I gathered, Mom or Dad(probably Mom, the little Chatty Cathy) won't get off the goddamn phone and pay attention to her kid.  I felt a connection to this song, for I too have fell victim to being ignored by a mother talking on the phone when I needed her undivided attention and/or a snack.  Out of pure unbridled frustration, I kicked a bag of trash, which unbeknownst to anyone contained a very sharp soupcan lid.  I managed to slice my little foot open, and had to be rushed to the ER to get 8 stitches.  By golly, did THAT get her attention!  I was 23, by the way. 

5) Three Blind Mice
Oh great, a cover.  And sung a cappella by three actual visually impaired mice.  Next. 

6) Guatemala
Hmm... a third-world Central American country that's been engaged in a nearly 40-year civil war?  Sounds like a great idea for a children's song!  Next. 

7) New School
A rockin' tune about a kid starting at a new school.  I'm sure some kids(or adults) can attribute just how scary this can be.  But I can't.  So I skip to the next one. 

8) Birthday Crying
Another spoken-word track, this time the singer is grilling the little kid on whether she's cried on her birthday before.  She did, because nobody liked her birthday cake; which was strawberry shortcake.  Well gee, I wonder why they complained.  Probably because strawberry shortcake fucking sucks? Whose idea was it to put fruit anywhere near a fucking birthday cake?  I'm an adult and I still don't like strawberry shortcake.  Dumb hooker.  I hope no one came to your stupid fruit-covered cake birthdays ever again, and thus become socially ostracized and forced into prostitution.   Moving on...

9) Birthday Parties Always End In Tears
Honestly, just one look at this song title, and I think "Wow, did we really need to delve into the sordid details of the Jaime Broza's traumatizing youth?".  Maybe we shouldn't invite Uncle No-Boundaries and Aunt Xanax-and-Bourbon to our birthday parties... or anywhere... anymore... ever.   This might be a good point to touch on next time you meet with your shrink.  

10) The No Game
Every child knows this game; I'm glad an adult is advocating this behavior through song.  Prick. 

11)My Work Is Never Done(a sentiment I am really starting to feel at this point)
This is just getting weird.  Another spoken-word track(aside from a short ditty at the end) with Broza asking a mouse how many kids he has.  65, apparently.  He laments on how is work is never done; which is why he spends his whole mouse-y paycheck down at the racetrack or the gentle-mouse's club downtown.  

12) Lost Cat
YOUR PARENTS ARE LYING.  KITTY GOT HIT BY A FUCKING CAR.  THEY SAW IT WITH THEIR OWN EYES AND LIED TO YOUR FACE.  They even helped you hang up signs around town and put out an ad in the paper.  Wow, they sure did go to great lengths to be cowards.  They just need to keep avoiding confrontation; it's fine.  They have a career to focus on, they don't need their children's milestones or the opportunity to share their wisdom to sully up their precious time... nope, because they can just lie, and the problem goes away.  Isn't that right, parents?? It's okay to lie to kids.  Shelter them from their own emotions.  Protect them from growing wiser.  Baby doesn't need to learn how treacherous and abysmal the outside world is... they've been trained to trust you and only you.   Consequences?  Naaah. 

... 13) Where's Charlie?
Another little bossa nova ditty asking where Charlie is.  Which of course, judging by the Latino flavor, I can only assume is code for "Where's the cocaine at, meng?".  Rumor has it Broza's coke habit is the stuff of legends.  

14) Monster Voice
Jesus Christ, another spoken-word track.  Grown-up and child go back and forth making retard noises.   Please do not let this CD anywhere near my future 4-year-old.  

15) Trick or Treat
Okay, a random holiday-themed song on a non-holiday specific disc.  That I thought was supposed to be a concept album about wanting dogs.    I'm still disappointed that the dog-wanting premise never panned out on this disc.  

16) Choo-Choo Train
Internet.  Laptops.  iPods.  Smartphones.  iPads.  Text messaging.  XBox Live.  Apps.  Yeah, I'm pretty sure little kids don't give a flying fuck about choo-choo trains anymore... but nice job anyway, Broza.  

17) Sisters
Broza's got jungle fever, baby!  Kinda inappropriate for a kid's album, but whatever.  At this point, I'm sure the little rascal's ADD kicked in(probably by track 8), and is already in the other room eating crayons, or whatever it is children do.  And I'm sure liberal-minded parents will sing praises of it's lessons on diversity.  Margarita needs a ride home by the way; she finally finished cleaning the guest bathroom.  

18) Dog Sounds
These are dog sounds.  Like, sounds made by dogs.  But by people.  Annoying people.  Somehow, this doesn't really stand on par with other popular closing tracks, but I suppose "Dog Sounds" is this album's "Love Reign O'er Me".  


Overall rating?  2 out of 5 stars.  

No, scratch that.  2 circles out of 5 stars.  



What?  Doesn't make sense? Neither did a 27-year-old music snob doing a children's album review.  But I did it.  And rated it with my own arbitrary rating system of non-sequential ranks and symbols.  And in the end, I think we all won.  Or at least, I satisfied my ego.  And that's really all I can provide for the children of America... a smug sense of self-satisfaction. 

Time for some real adult music now.