The Musical Economics of the Barenaked Ladies

Professor Dexter Duncan of the London School of Economics is one of the most eminent thinkers in the field of Musical Economics. His 1970 paper, A Third Staircase (Just for Show): What Could I Buy If I Were a Rich Man?, was a sensation and is credited with starting the Music Economics boom. Duncan’s most famous paper, Living in a Material World, explained the ostentation of the 1980s fiscal music scene.

Duncan’s latest work, If They had $1,000,000, is another grand project of aural economic analysis. In it, he tests the theories laid out by the Barenaked Ladies in their popular 1992 song, If I had $1000000, and tries to determine whether their claims are valid.

At more than three hundred pages long, this is a very dense and almost impenetrable work, with some formulae and passages that would be far too difficult for the casual reader. However, sticking with the text reaps some wonderful rewards.

As many music lovers know, the song begins with the assertion that if he had a million dollars, the singer of the Barenaked Ladies would “buy you a house”. Using current Canadian house prices, Professor Duncan determined that this would set back the singer $326,613. Several chapters are then devoted to the implications of buying such an abode and the differences between a building of this price in the different Canadian provinces.

Furniture is the next purchase mentioned in the song, and the singer specifies either “a Chesterfield or an Ottoman”. Using a complicated series of calculations based on musician psychology, wealth ratios and fabric costs, Duncan determines that the most likely item of furniture bought by the Barenaked Ladies’ frontman would be a $3,000 Chesterfield from one of Toronto’s premium seateries.

Here lies one of the more galling omissions from the paper. While his reasoning for coming up with this value for the Chesterfield is sound, Duncan does not assess the merits of having a large house and only one piece of furniture. This seems to me to be somewhat lacking for a gentleman of means, owning his own house and only a Chesterfield to sit/sleep on. This scenario brings to mind the frugal miser, rich yet reluctant to purchase fripperies like beds, wardrobes and tables. Is this really an image we see in the twenty-first century?

There are other oversights that do detract from this otherwise excellent piece of investigation. In estimating the cost of a llama (one of the “exotic pets” that the Barenaked Ladies would purchase), Duncan only takes into account the purchase price of the creature. There is no mention of cost of food, lodgings, training, etc. The same can be said for the monkey, a bargain at $8,000, but less so when you consider the extra money needed to house and feed the animal.

Sadly missing in the analysis is the cost of John Merrick’s remains. In the song, the singer wants to buy “them crazy elephant bones”, but according to Professor Duncan this would be easier sung than done. The remains belong to a London museum, and despite repeated requests for information, no employee would put a price on the bones.

Also, the song states that the singer would buy “some art; a Picasso or a Garfunkel”. Art Garfunkel does not make personal appearances, so Duncan had to find a reasonably priced Picasso work. In the end, he found an original sketch for $70,000.

All in all, Professor Duncan’s analysis of the Barenaked Ladies’ ability to purchase everything mentioned in the song for a million dollars is sound, although he really ought to have given more room to considerations of inflation since the song was written. There is also the question of differences in exchange rates between the song's appearance and now.

Duncan's conclusions – that the items in the song could be purchased for less than half a million dollars, leaving enough money to buy “your love” – are sound. He also adds that this much money would probably be required to buy someone's love if you bought them a house and only one chair, not to mention a fake green dress and lots of Kraft Dinner. But there are some bad omissions in the paper, and these are enough to sow the seeds of doubt about some of Duncan’s methods, and therefore, his conclusions.

I'm the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral. Can't understand what I mean? You soon will.

An Eargasm Interlude

Firstly, I want to apologise for the lack of hilarious Imaginary Reviews recently. Admittedly, the quality has been high (if I do say so myself), but I haven’t been updating as regularly. This is due to a combination of things, including a minor traffic accident, work, and being hepped up on back pain medication. I am full of hope that this will be remedied shortly.

Secondly, I thought I’d explain my choices in the most recent Green Monkey Music Project, in which the lovely Barbara asked contributors to select six songs that give them ‘eargasms’. I decided to join in the fun, and blogger extraordinaire Splotchy has them on his rather excellent blog. Here, I’ll talk you through my selection.

1: Maybe Tenderness – Gintare
Eargasm moment: 1:37

Gintare is an eastern European singer whose voice is like a cross between Bjork, Enya and an opera singer. I received her album, Earthless, to review for my University newspaper, and was blown away. It is beautiful. Quite a bit of the album is very dancy, but the song I’ve chosen is slow and builds up nicely to a wonderful long note that always gives me shivers (around 1:37).

2: Untitled #3 – Sigur Ros
Eargasm moment: 4.48

This was the first song I thought of when I read the criteria for this mix. For me, this piece of music is one long wave of anticipation for the moment at 4:48 when the key changes. The song starts with wave noises, a piano emerges and slowly, slowly, other instruments join in, and just when everything seems to be there, the piano goes up. Amazing.

Southern Accents – Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
Eargasm moment: 2:20

My favourite song by my favourite band of all time. The eargasm moment is really for the lyrics, which always seem to get me. I could listen to this song forever.

Helicon 1 – Mogwai
Eargasm moment: 2:55

It was difficult to pick only one Mogwai song for this compilation, given that they’ve provided me with so many eargasm moments. For those unfamiliar with this band of Scottish post-rockers, their early stuff mostly consists of very quiet, repetitive guitar melodies that suddenly erupt into huge, loud cacophonies of noise. Helicon 1 is a good example of this, with the quietest opening ever and lovely loud part at 2:55. I have announced in the past that I would like this song to be played at my funeral.

Nandodemo – Dreams Come True
Eargasm moment: 2:52

Apologies for a song in Japanese, but this is the first song I really loved when I moved to Japan in 2004. The moment that gets me is when the chorus is sung two more times with different lyrics towards the end. It’s almost breathless and peps me up end. The entire song epitomises for me the very Japanese word ‘Ganbatte’: Fighting, striving, never giving up, no matter what.

Concerto De Aranjuez (Adagio) – Rodrigo
Eargasm moment: 9:15

This is my favourite piece of classical music. Again, a great crescendo, the highlight of which for me is the moment when everything rises, holds for a breath longer than I expect it to around 9:15, then carries on before fading out. Beautiful.

The Time-Life CD Commercial Anthology: 8 DVD Box Set

I will admit, when I sat down to this 60-hour box set of Time-Life CD commercials, I wasn’t full of optimism for a good time well spent. Normally the presence of one of these ads on my TV screen elicits a weary sigh and a hasty click on the remote. But when I forced myself to sit through these 8 DVDs, I found myself enthralled and entertained, like a manchild with a hoop.

The DVDs are arranged chronologically by half-decade. For my money, the best parts of the box set came in the latter years, once the Time-Life team had reached the peak of their talents. The wonderful and much-missed 2002 commercial for the Time-Life Best of Gangsta Rap compilation is a personal highlight for me. Hosted by Patrick Duffy, this is pure gold from the gunshot-strewn intro to the news that calling in the next seventeen minutes will earn the buyer a set of free commemorative plates featuring Dr. Dre, MC Ren and KRS-1. Everything is beautifully produced: the five-second song snippets segue flawlessly, the font used to display selected titles is superb and Duffy’s interaction with co-presenter Coolio is jovial and not at all forced.

Similarly, the ad for 1995’s Time-Life Presents: 6 CDs of Songs about Forests is a marvellous example of the pseudo infomercial. Set in a wooded glade and hosted by Fabio, the commercial is ten minutes of pure poetry set around the leitmotif of a totally unnecessary musical compilation. Fabio is an excellent compere, switching effortlessly between serious (when describing the first time he heard a song about a forest and closed his eyes and actually believed he was in a forest!) and playful (when he’s dancing around, pretending to be a wood nymph). When he looks into the camera and excitedly informs us that the first fifty callers will get their reward in Heaven, well, I truly believe it.

Earlier commercials are less impressive. The first DVD, showcasing the first Time-Life CD box set adverts, has a naive charm, but the anthology’s compilers could have omitted everything on the DVD without missing anything special. Rock n Roll Classics, Doo Wop Legends, Rock n Roll Classics Volume 2: The EnRockening, Rock n Roll Classics Volume 3: This Time it’s Rock!!, Doo Wop Legends 2: More Doo, Even More Wop and Rock n Roll Songs That Aren’t Quite Classics But We Ran Out of Classics so Have These Instead: All ads for these compilations lack that special something that makes the later ones so enjoyable. Where are the bonus offers for early purchasers? Where is the grainy stock footage of 50s dancers cutting a rug? Where is the photo of young Elvis pointing at the camera and winking? These details are what make future ads great, and these early attempts are done no favours by their omission.

But the joy that can be had from the other DVDs is really what stands out from this anthology. Take the sight of Marilyn Manson breaking down and crying while telling the viewer about the CD collection Songs Your Grandfather Would Play as You Sat on His Knee and Looked up at Him with Wide-Eyed Wonder. Take the tripped out brilliance of the ad for Psychedelic Drug Party 4, which consists of a brightly coloured spiral spinning on the screen for 18 minutes. Take the majesty of the boudoir set where the ad for 200 Songs to Play while you’re Trying to get a Girl to Sleep with You takes place.

But wait! That’s not all! The first one hundred – yes! One hundred! – people who order this anthology will get an extra DVD featuring bonus material such as behind-the-scenes making-of featurettes! Interviews with the ads’ presenters and producers! Outtakes! A classy cardboard carry case! And much much more!

I would give the Time-Life CD Commercial Anthology collection four stars out of five. It's not perfect, but then again, who is? Apart from me, I mean. Yeah, exactly.

Postage and packing for this DVD box set is available in twenty easy instalments beginning with your first born son. The Time-Life CD Commercial Anthology DVD box set is not available in any shops, online, or through mail order. It is not available anywhere. Not even in space or in Honest Ed’s, where they’ve got everything else in existence. Your home is at risk if you do not keep up payments on a mortgage or other loan secured on it.

Spoonsfest 08

One of the many Spoonsfest Performers, rocking out like a bitch.

The first week in July is the biggest date in the Toronto musical calendar for many people. Music lovers from all over the world converge in the city, forcing the closure of roads, shops and some brothels. And the reason for this mass migration? Spoonsfest.

Now in its seventeenth year, Spoonsfest brings the best in the world’s spoons players to Toronto, where they wow the crowds with their cutlery-assisted rhythms. All of your favourite spoons players were here this year: ‘Bubonic’ Pete, The Relevant Sisters, Simon ‘S.Poon’ Poon, ‘Old’ Bob ‘Cataracty’ Smith and, of course, the world Spoon-playing champion, Jeremiah ‘Eager’ Beaver. Plus, as well as more than one hundred acts playing across seven venues, city-wide, there were workshops, stalls and spoons-related media to enjoy as well. Spoonsfest 2008 really was the biggest Spoons-specific music festival since the much-missed Spoonapolooza festival in California.

This year, the organisers of Spoonsfest did their best to put the unpleasant memories of last year behind them. Many precautions were made to prevent the running battles between the rival factions of the spoon-playing world that plagued the 2007 festival, including banning members of the ultra-hardcore PunkSpoon Organisation. Also, there was more segregation between wooden and metal spoon acts, forcing extreme fans of each spoon-playing method to spend more time apart. Thankfully these precautions seemed to work, and I witnessed no violent spoon attacks.

Because of the sheer size of Spoonsfest, It was impossible to catch all the acts, but The Imaginary Review strived to see as much musical ladle action as possible. My favourite act was up and coming spoon heart-throbs, Born with a Silver, who attracted the biggest crowds of screaming teenagers (and also, therefore, dodgy old men in long overcoats) to the Main Stage. The three spoon prodigy siblings gave a fantastic display of percussive cutlery prowess, even throwing in some covers to their own tunes. Most impressive was their rocking spoony version of Soundgarden’s Black Hole Sun. Superb.

Christian spoon-playing band Ladling His Love (in the Degrassi Junior High Tent) were terrible. I’m sorry, but it’s very difficult to render songs of praise in spoon form, no matter how hard you try, and LHL just weren’t up to the task. It was a relief to the whole crowd when their lead spooner was decapitated by a stray pigeon.

As I wandered around the festival, it really did occur to me that Spoonsfest has become far too commercialised, with every major corporation from Williams-Sonoma to the Scientologists trying to jump on the spoon bandwagon with a tent or promotional trailer. Many of the older spoons fans that I talked to were quite angry that the festival they’ve patronised since 1991 has abandoned them in search of new, younger fans. Mary, a dowdy spinster from Hamilton, ON, told me that in her opinion, half of the acts here this year weren’t even true spoon players!

While I’m not sure I agree with Dowdy old Mary, there were far too many tenuous spoon-related diversions at the festival this year. Experimental artist Ryota Ando had a performance on the main stage, in which he gently spooned members of the audience for half an hour. While technically ‘spooning’, this was hardly appropriate for a music festival.

But then, how can I complain when headliner Spoonman Dave was here, playing all of his fantastic hits in a three-hour set on the Main Stage? Guitarist Jimmy Page even joined him on stage for a few songs; such was the pull of this legend of spoons. And I doubt anyone who saw German Spoon Techno Pioneers Kraftspön left the Bryan’s Brilliant Borscht Tent disappointed. Their new, self-created electronic spoon instruments were as nice-sounding as they were intriguing.

Of course, with a festival of this standing and magnitude, not everyone will be pleased, but I doubt anyone but the most jaded spoon classicist would have been unhappy with this year’s festival. All in all, I had a great time at Spoonsfest 08, and can’t wait for next year!

Spoons are dangerous weapons. Please do not try to play them without the supervision of a qualified instructor or YOU WILL DIE.

Special 100th Review Spectacular: The Imaginary Reviewed on DVD

When The Imaginary Review started last year, one of our early fans was Nigel Worthington-Rhys, a documentary film-maker from Wales. He realised soon after the first review that this was going to be huge, a massively successful project that would unite and polarise vast swathes of the planet, and he wanted to be a part of the staggering critical behemoth before everyone joined the bandwagon.

Since that first review was printed, Worthington-Rhys has followed up on the subjects of each entry, interviewing them and following their post-IR successes with the help of a video camera. With the 100th Imaginary Review now published, Worthington-Rhys has edited the footage and released it as a documentary entitled The Imaginary Reviewed. Narrated by the film-maker himself, it makes for some very interesting viewing.

The subjects of the film are covered more or less chronologically, beginning with the first reviewee. Winwood Augary, author of The Climes of Despair (a book he translated from Greek into English despite not speaking a word of the former language), is given this honour. Augary is interviewed briefly from the mental institution in which he now resides, which makes for sad viewing from the onset. He appears to be unaware of his place in history as the subject of the first Imaginary Review, and the mention of the book that rendered him insane causes him to break down violently. The story is left to his publisher, Derek Shatner, who claims that the book’s appearance on The Imaginary Review meant that it sold more than the anticipated zero copies. When asked by Worthington-Rhys how many of the books were purchased, Shatner responds, “at least three!”

The effect of an Imaginary Review is a common theme throughout the documentary, and many of the people featured here are thankful for the level of recognition that the website gave them. Even a mostly negative review could have positive results, as witnessed by artist Gustav Chichester, whose Timpani Suicide installation was described as “drama-less tat” by The Imaginary Reviewer. He claims that his exhibition showed a 33% rise in visitors after the review, but adds that this could be because the days following the review’s publication were very rainy.

Worthington-Rhys’s love of The Imaginary Review is highly apparent through The Imaginary Reviewed. In some of the interviews, it is as if the camera is lovingly caressing the people onscreen, such is the bold light in which they are filmed. In the case of the Cheeky Girls (whose Cheeky Manifesto was reviewed last August), Worthington-Rhys is actually caressing them with the camera, which unfortunately does make for some awkward viewing.

For me, the best part of the documentary is the “Where are they now?” aspect. I was highly pleased to find out that the SwampAid music festival in Annifridagnethaville gained so much publicity from our Imaginary Review that this year’s concert will be headlined by U2, Coldplay, The Rolling Stones (playing with the remaining Beatles), Radiohead and God (who will be joined by President Bongo and the Democratic Republic of Phonque).

In the documentary we also discover that Dave’s Uncle Ted (also reviewed last July), was so touched by his generally positive review that he swore off the booze after reading it. He hasn’t been incarcerated since.

Evil Blood II: The Hurtening, was such a box-office smash that several sequels are already in the works; a similar thing is true for The Golden Rump Ass, reviewed earlier this year. In the four weeks since the critique was printed, six sequels have been released, including The Golden Rump-Ass 4: The Rumpening and The Golden Rump-Ass 5: Rump-Asses Gone Wild.

But not all Imaginary Reviews have led to success stories. Garrulous Industries, makers of the Tring 32X, went bankrupt shortly after it was released. All machines had to be recalled after they were proved to cause dwarfism. Gunchen Maladroit, the photographer whose A Life in Frame retrospective was reviewed last October, was investigated by the police after the show contained photographs of a picnic table that were deemed pornographic. He is now in hiding and only agreed to appear in the film if his face was obscured by a large balloon.

Nigel Worthington-Rhys’s narration on the documentary is superb. He knows his subjects inside and out, having spent an inordinate amount of time on research. “Before I read the Imaginary Review of the Nokia 22-20 Gunphone,” he says in the voice-over, “I had no idea it existed. Thanks to The Imaginary Review I know it’s not an excellent mugger deterrent, a view that I put to the machine’s developers in Finland.”

Some time is dedicated to the things listed in The Imaginary Review’s various end of year reviews, and the people behind the top-ranked albums, films, colours and comics are all questioned about their opinions on the website. Mostly none have heard of it, despite their accolades at The Imaginary Reviewer’s hands.

I can’t recommend this documentary enough for the many, many loyal Imaginary Review fans out there. Anyone who wants to know how successful Freedom 2008 by The Right Trema was (and why he was dropped by his record company) should watch it. Likewise, anyone who wants to see whether Men at Work - the wonderful art exhibit - was finished on schedule and under budget, and how much a two bedroom apartment inside it now costs, should get a copy.

The Imaginary Reviewed will certainly be a strong contender for Best Documentary at next year’s Oscars, a fitting tribute to Nigel, as well as the stars of his film, including the many people featured in it who are sadly no longer with us and to whom the film is dedicated. These include Wayne Carroll (who choked on his own vomit shortly after his Complete Drunken Text Message Poetry Collection was released), Ted the Unknown Species (who caught the very un-pet-like Dutch Elm Disease) and Jerry the dead zookeeper, who is currently being sued for traumatising the children at his presentation this month.

Gosh, that was fun, wasn’t it? Here’s to the next 100 reviews! Maybe Now Toronto will have hired me by then!

Music Review: Your Band

I just saw Your Band playing live and I’ve got to admit, I’m quite impressed. That first song you played (what was it called again? ‘The Gits’? ‘The Grits’? ‘The Shits’? Something like that) was pretty good. The solo wasn’t much to write home about, but then again, I hear that your guitarist has only been with the band for a few weeks, so it’s probably a bit early to be judging him harshly. The chorus was really catchy, though. I was humming it all day afterwards.

Your Band are going to go places if you can get a few more songs in your repertoire. But no more covers; yes, that faster, rockier version of A Cheesy 80s Classic was pretty funny, but you don’t want to overdo it. You have a good mix of fast and slow ones, too, which I liked. It gave the crowd a bit of a break from moshing when you played a slower number. Well, when I say ‘crowd’, I’m referring to that one drunk guy who was moshing at the front. Maybe you know him? Is he related to one of the band members?

If I had one complaint about Your Band it would be the keyboardist. He really needs to be replaced. What’s with all the prog rock noodling? It doesn’t go with the otherwise flawless rock aesthetic. I don’t care if he owns the bongos, you can always buy cheap bongos at a music store. Your Band doesn’t need him.

Seriously...what were you thinking?

But you know what Your Band does need? A hot female bassist. Bands with hot female bassists always get more attention. It’s the phallic symbolism that comes from an attractive woman running he hand up and down a long bass fret board. And you wouldn’t have to get rid of the current bassist, Your Band could have two bassists. It could be a gimmick. Gimmicks never hurt. Yeah, two bassists, one of them a hot female: that would rule.

All in all, I’d say Your Band are fairly decent, but they still need to practice. The singer didn’t have much of a stage presence, either. Oh wait, that was you? Really?

Your Band will be playing in a load of dives and shit-holes until the first whiff of label interest triggers in-group fighting and you split up in a huge cloud of acrimony. Your Band’s first single is an MP3 available on the website that Your Band’s drummer’s brother made in his spare time.

Special Valentine's Day Review: Lovers

As it's Valentine's Day, I thought today I'd review some of the lovers I've enjoyed in recent weeks.

First off, there's Suzanne, who scored very highly indeed. She was a little more expensive than other lovers, but first impressions were good: a full body, rich, and most pleasing on the eye. I detected fragrances of jasmine and summer fruits, with a hint of leather and birchwood. Suzanne has a unique velvetty texture which feels especially good at the back of the tongue; this is complimented by a gently brittle aftertaste which is both alluring and fragile. If I had one complaint with this lover, it's the unnecessarily high alcohol content. But this splitting hairs; she certainly goes down well, and her tannins are delightful.

Gabrielle on the other hand, was a disaster. She started promisingly enough, with a slow, downtempo effort that was both sensual and sexy. It was mostly downhill from then on, unfortunately, with much of what passed afterwards being filler. The heavy, fast-paced rhythms of our later meetings simply did nothing for me, and the spoken word sections were, quite frankly, embarrassing. It's a shame, because I've heard many good things about Gabrielle's live shows. Perhaps that's where she excels.

Finally, I wasn't expecting much from Benjamin, but I'm happy to say that I was pleasantly surprised. Despite my being relatively new to this particular style of lover, Benjamin was a joy from start to end. I just could not put him down. His opening lines had me hooked, and his prose was truly delightful; indeed, I was literally struck dumb by one of his passages in particular. I understand why people may think that he is a little overlong, but when a lover is as satisfying as this, I don't have a problem with length. If anything, I would have enjoyed even more! Benjamin was gripping throughout, and had a wonderfully explosive climax. Fantastic.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Book Review: 674pp – A Biography of John Cage by Matthew Ng and Norman DeSauza

While many biographies of composer John Cage have been written, 674pp claims to be the definitive story of his life, from his birth, through to the composition of his most famous piece, 4’33’’, up to his death in 1992. Setting it apart from the other books is a single, simple fact: Just as 4’33’’ is a piece of music consisting of 4 minutes and 33 seconds of silence, 674pp is a book consisting of 674 numbered, but otherwise empty pages.

This book, therefore, is not for the casual reader who has a passing interesting in John Cage’s life and works. This is certainly for someone who already has some (ideally extensive) knowledge of the composer, and who will be able to meditate on their existing knowledge while staring at the blank pages.

Despite the lack of any sentences or words on the pages, I found this book took me rather a long time to read. The feeling of the paper against my finger as I turned from chapter 8 to chapter 9, for example, conjured up wonderful memories of the first time I heard Cage’s Musicircus being performed. The last two chapters were very difficult for me to read, knowing the impending death of one of the world’s greatest living composers was approaching. Indeed, I could not bring myself to read the final eight pages at first, setting the book aside for several days in an attempt to delay the inevitable. But then, as I came back to the empty, ink-free pages, the sadness I had been avoiding flooded in, and I was moved to tears.

But to concentrate on the sadness in the book is folly. Look at the highlights of Cage’s life, which, while not actually mentioned in the book, appeared in chapters 12 to 15 for me. The sense of accomplishment and pride one feels on behalf of Cage when his star grows, and when he is described as a genius by his tutors, comes through wonderfully during this period of the book.

There has been some argument regarding this book and the usefulness thereof; Mike Blatt has published a very similar, yet more concise biography one hundred pages long, again with no words. But it is the length of this work and the quality of the non-writing that set 674pp apart from the others. If you look beyond the actual blank pages, and dwell upon the words that Ng and DeSauza didn’t write, you will gather an additional layer of enjoyment from the book.

674pp is a great addition to the works about John Cage. I would recommend it to anyone interested in the composer, Zen Buddhism, or anyone who needs a large and well-bound sketchpad.

Music Review Review

David Trebuchet, the highly regarded music reviewer from the San Francisco Corinthian newspaper, has done it again! He recently turned his erudite pen and scathing wit upon the latest teen-marketed pop sensation, and the results are nothing short of genius.

The first sentence in his review of Dippy Twilight's forthcoming album, Loving to Love the Love, gives us a foreglimpse of the wonders to come. "Let's face it," he says, "Nobody thinking of buying this album is going to be reading this review, so why don't we have some fun?" This reviewer couldn't agree more.

Trebuchet then launches into a damning attack of the popular music scene in general. He is most famous for his cynicism in the face of manufactured pop artists, so the fact that Dippy Twilight is actually two people who were fused together by the Sony Music Group definitely angers him. "When there are so many great musicians and bands on the scene (Casket of Geese, The Spasms, Adam Youell and the Bedford Vans, for example), why would Sony need to find two vaguely attractive young women and stitch them together in order to create anodyne music?"

The reviewer is just as scathing when it comes to the songs on the album, with his dismissal of the title track being particularly amusing: "'Loving to Love the Love' sounds like a cross between a children's party being attacked by a race of helium balloons and a baboon farting in my ear. The lyrics sound like they were written by a blind epileptic in charge of a box of magnetic fridge poetry. The music is as vapid and tasteless as a Fox News diatribe."

The only flat point in Trebuchet's review is his unfair comparison between the music of Dippy Twilight and the music of Peter and the Test-Tube Babies. It's well-known at the moment that Trebuchet has co-written a Broadway musical on the career of the punk band, so his constant mentioning of the band in his reviews is an unwelcome intrusion. Otherwise, the review of 'Loving to Love the Love' is another wonderful addition to Trebuchet's ouvre.

In conclusion, I will again quote Trebuchet, this time in his discussion of Dippy Twilight's forthcoming single, 'Amy Used to eat Newspaper': "If anyone ever asks me to listen to this shit again, I'll strangle them with a barbed-wire fence."