Joydrop's Metasexual

When I grow up, I want to sit in a big leather chair in a big corner office in a big corporate building in the Big City. There, miserly little business peddlers will hawk the "brilliant" projects they have in mind for the happy world of modern entertainment. For $200,000, they will pitch me their best, and I will tell them whether or not they should continue with their proposal. If they do, and their project is a smashing success, $200,000 is pocket change; if their project is panned, then I won't lose too much money. Therefore, ideas like "I want to make a baseball movie with Matt LeBlanc and a monkey" would never be fully realized--and no one would ever let Joydrop's Metasexual get any further than the drawing board.

The titles of their tracks answer all of my questions. What does this album do? Answer: "Fizz." Didn't I know not to review this album? "All Too Well." Who listens to this crap? "No One." Joydrop's music is representative of bad late-'90s rock: pissed-off female lead singer quietly croons about why love and her four-person indie band suck, then screams her head off during the chorus.

For example, "Spiders," track five, begins with a brief, rippling guitar solo, ushering in vocalist Tara Slone's gently irate lyrics about fresh mesh flesh. Then suddenly the drums flare and the bass deepens (I assume the guitarists are now head-banging) as Slone screams, "Like spiders, like spiders, all over me like spiders, like spiders all over me!"

The rest of the songs, if not identical in chord progression, are pretty close to the musical forms exhibited in other Joydrop classics. "Beautiful," "Strawberry Marigold," and "Cocoon" all share the same nonstop lethargy. Not one song on this album displays anything new, exciting, or even noteworthy--unless you consider "endless sucking" worth mentioning.

Metasexual, in an ideal world, would have earned me $200,000 and Joydrop a trip to garage-band Purgatory. If only, a track's title could have answered my question "What Do I Do Now?" Unfortunately, the band didn't name one of its songs "Kill yourself." (Tommy Boy)

--Aaron Zamost

Back to A&E...

All materials © 1999 The Yale Herald, Inc., and its staff.
Got any questions, comments, or advice? Email the online editors at online@yaleherald.com.
Like to join us?