Woo-haa!
As in Woo-motherfucking-haa, for you slow kids.
It’s CD Hour with Uncle Beppo again. Remember me? The friendly neighborhood rapist of innocent minds and corruptor of eloquent musical recap everywhere?
Oh, I see… you want an actual review. You are confused and don’t know whether you should buy this here album or not. I see… You must have mistaken me for fucking Amazon.com. Do you see a fucking shopping cart in the corner? Do you? Yeah, well, my car is broken down so fuck you. I still need to get around. Get your fair-weather-shopping candy ass out of here.
Anyway, where were we?
We were talking about Opus Dai. Yeah, I started before you tuned in, because I am drunk, so just sit the fuck down and catch up. What are you gonna do about it? Really? Well, yeah… I’ll fucking sue! I know people!
Fuckers.
Wait, I had notes…
There…
What is this shit I wrote? Let’s see…
“Opus Dai majestically blends System-of-a-Downish riffs with Devin Townsendish vocal lines and manages to compose a truly progressive rock album, in the vein of Mars Volta and Between the Buried and Me. That may sound a little too artsy-fartsy to some, but on a whole it should cater to anybody who enjoys great musicianship, clever melodies, and an exciting approach to intelligent rock.”
Hmmm… Did I write that shit? Yeah, right. Nice fucking try. (Note from your Editor: If you’d actually write reviews that normal people want to read instead of the drunk drivel you usually submit, I wouldn’t need to do the writing for you ahead of time. Now get to work and toe the line! Oh, right… you flunked that test too.) Shut the hell up. Fuck normal, if it wasn't so boring, that is. I'll fuck crazy any day of the week, though.
No, the greatest thing with the Opus Dai album “Tierra Tragame” (Spanish for “Beppo Rocks”) is that there is no picture of the band in the booklet. I hate it when I like an album and then find out it was made by the kids who are skating in the park around the corner. Fuck that shit. Leave me to my delusions. Especially when the cover artwork is this fucking emo (some pencil drawn bitch with a bleeding heart – how original), nothing good could ever come out of a group pic of angst ridden diary-writing black-nailed punk wannabes. I am just going to pretend these fuckers look like the Black Label Society and move on. Or like Motley Crue back when they had the strippers on stage. Remember them? They rocked. What was her name, the hot one? The one with the big honker? I hit on her at The Roxy once and she spat in my face. I didn’t wash for years. True story. I forgot about the spit the day after, but my shower was fucking broken.
Back to Opus Dai. OK, so we have a gay ass band that we will pretend looks like BLS, with a horrible emo album cover, with gay ass hippie song titles like "Rain", "Firefly" and "Nightingale" and, on top of that, they have dotted all the vowels on said gay ass song titles with fucking Motorhead dots – like that would make them fucking Motorhead - or Norwegian, maybe. Kids, neither will having a mother who looks like Eddie make you Iron Maiden, or wearing spiked hair make you punk – just saying. Add to this mix the ever so trendy name “Opus Dai”, and we’re left with something I would not have reviewed if I would have had a choice. But, since I am a fucking slave ass gimp to the powers that be – the motherfucking DRS – I had to take this shit so I could rummage around in it and see what came out.
And, dude, am I glad I did. Well, not glad, but at least mildly less depressed. I can’t take my meds yet because I am out of fucking vodka to chase them down with. “Don’t mix and drink,” they say. Yeah, right. What do they know about the joys of riding a painkiller high on a booze flume ride? Amateurs.
Anyway… This CD fucking rocks you like a fucking herrrricane! Blow me, Katrina, and hallelujah, Andrew - you sick motherfuckers!
Imagine a System of a Down without the Mad fucking Arab squealing to the high heavens. Imagine Mars Volta without the fucking headache. Imagine Between the Buried and Me with some actual melody, and not just guitar wankery. I could listen to Opus Dai totally hung over, and it would still not make me turn myself inside out. That is as good of a grade I can give a progressive rock album on a day like today.
The singer has a “normal” voice, free from all emo-stigma or mall core screaming, and the music swings, like the fucking pendulum on my grandmother’s scary wall clock, between slow and melancholic beautiful shit and aggressive guitar driven metal shit. It’s like Opeth’s "Damnation" on crack meets… something else… I don’t know. Mars Volta? Did I say that already? Well, like that, only not so fucking annoying. You know what? You’re fucking annoying!
Anyway, the CD rocks, and there is not a hit on here, as far as the eye can see – all the songs are written as parts of an album. Remember that? When albums were evenly matched, song-wise? “What’s an album, Uncle Beppo?” you ask with retardation shining out of your dull eyes. It’s what I call CDs, because I am older than dirt. Any other questions?
So here’s the deal. Go and buy this album. It’s as good as anything else out there in this migraine-inducing genre, and you obviously need directions from a drunken clown, so what can I tell you?
Brother, can you spare some change? No? Then get the fuck out of here.
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Opus Dai
"Tierra Tragame"
Rating:
Reviewed by:
Beppo Blitzkrieg
Artwork used with permission from Neverland Music Inc.
