Oh IWABO. I don't think I've ever hated anything so much. So deeply, and so passionately. I think this must be what love feels like:
For months I have been eagerly waiting with twisted anticipation, for the release of their latest album, Ruining it For Everybody. While my metal blogging peers seem to have no issue getting their hands on pre-release copies for review, my connections as a hard music insider are all but non-existent. Turns out, record companies don't want their albums reviewed by cynical assholes. This makes a lot of sense to me, so unless I want to treasure hunt for a leaked copy myself, I have to wait for release day like every other shmuck. My yearning to savagely review such a musical disaster is a blood lust that's most insatiable. It's a similar situation to when a protagonist gets captured in a shitty action movie, and the evil villain tells his goons "No, don't kill him. Bring him to me..." Except here, IWABO are heroes to no one. Terrible core music has no heroes, no icons, nobody to hold in higher esteem than anyone else. It is just a pathetic, scurrying, swarming cesspool of sour-smelling indecency and a mindless, unbridled consumption of time, effort and internet airwaves. iwrestledabearonce are hardly the champions of such a land, they merely represent it at its most typically ironic and douchey.
IWABO have quite the track record in regards to taking part in music videos that are only funny to themselves. "You know that ain't them dogs' real voices" is a classic example of this phenomenon. I don't know this fucking guy in a clown outfit. I'm sure his name is Brent or some shit. I'm sure this is one of those things where it's like "oh man, if you knew Brent, you'd totally get why it's so funny that he's being a pissed off clown right now." But no, I didn't eat school lunch with Brent back in the day. I don't see Brent at keg parties. I don't follow Brent on Twitter. I never went halfsies on a pizza with Brent. Brent can go fuck himself, along with Chad wearing his luchador mask. Brent can blow Chad and help him reach his climax the moment he hears a synthesizer in a fake metal song.
Mariah Carey is playing at the beginning of this video as the party music. Oh gee, that's so hilarious, right? Because we're a bunch of hardcore brutal kids with gauges and ink and viper bites, so we're way too bad ass to listen to something as lame as Mariah Carey which is why this is so funny. Let it be known that Mariah Carey is way harder music than IWABO. That obnoxious bitch can screech and sing circles around Krysta Cameron during even her worst diva breakdown. There are no tough IWABO fans, but there are plenty of Mariah Carey fans that would cut your face for looking at them wrong. I guess I do have to give Cameron credit though. Somewhere between last album and this album, she learned that singers shouldn't be tone deaf, and sings a lot better from the few tracks I've heard. I wouldn't give any credibility to any compliments I have for her, however, because I secretly want to hold her hand, take her to the movies, brush her hair while talking about her day and maybe if she'll let me, fuck her viciously until my wang falls off. Such are the dangers of journalistic integrity.
I totally forgot about the existence of silly string until I saw this video. That stuff is horrible. Or awesome. I don't even remember. As I've grown older, my means of vandalism have evolved from the childish likes of silly string and toilet paper, to more age appropriate means such as gasoline and fire. Unfortunately, silly string doesn't really send the message to church goers on its own anymore... I digress. Apparently IWABO didn't get the memo that there was already a pathetically comedic music video for poseur metal scenesters that involves a party with a bunch of random crap and people getting shoved into a pool.
That's really all I have to say about this. The New In Flames review is a painful process that is well under way. Some other reviews and violations and things are also in the works. Don't worry about the time between updates. It doesn't mean I'm too busy. It just means that I don't give a shit about you.