GARAGE ROCK HERO
aka Practice Makes Perfectly Awful
By Tatty Knickers

How can someone who, to be outrageously magnanimous, has contributed only the most middling dreck to this city's music scene sport such a 'tude? What, is there some kind of free pass for tuneless schmucks if they own a certain number of In The Red and Crypt records? Did I miss the four wrongs make a right memo that excuses pathetic bellowing when in combination with melodic retardation, unbearable volume and terribly obvious, uh, points of reference? Whew! You rock! Pardon me while I hum along to the vacuum cleaner.

I know there are trend conscious music forums full of people who knew little or nothing about music before the popularization of the internet. Unfortunately for those of us with working ears, many of these dupes will fall for any half-assed bar rock that's (faux) shittily recorded so as to give the illusion of integrity or depth. This saves the Garage Rock Heroes of the world the impossible task of learning the basic elements of song craft and allows them to keep on smudging that turd ad infinitum.

To constantly gripe about the quantity of terrible bands while ceaselessly adding to the morass could perchance pass as satire if only the head swelling of the self-appointed taste maker was indicative of the self-awareness necessary to allow such a generous appraisal. Instead your misguided conviction that you are our salvation makes you infinitely worse than those you criticize. Congratulations, you suck on every level imaginable.

PSEUDO GLAM GROUPIE PHOTOGRAPHER
aka Bitch, Get Out the Way
By Tatty Knickers

Since when did every show in this city turn into your never-ending quest for a move up the scenester pecking order / Lords of the New Church lookalike contest? Look what the cat dragged in, indeed.

One would think the task of a photographer would be to document the time and place within which they are located. However, your constant presence is that of one demanding to be the center of attention, while contributing the bare minimum. I shouldn't be surprised given the absurd sense of entitlement with which your generation has been blessed, yet you manage to barge past your peers into a special circle of hell of your very own.

Your cry for recognition has not gone unnoticed, but it will continue to be ignored until you provide a reason for anyone to give even the slightest shit. Now grow up or fuck off.

PRETTY VANILLA
In 7 Inches Deep
By Darby Wong

I was reading the classifieds last week and couldn't help but pause as my eyes scanned over one man's ad:

"Pretty vanilla here, looking for a relationship or nsa fun with nothing too crazy..."

It dawned on me that this man had really hit the nail on the head. Pretty Vanilla, as they are quite aptly named, are one of the most boring bands I have ever heard. Hailing from Vancouver, this "glam rock" trio have created quite a stir amongst 8th graders and your rockabilly co-worker who thinks the Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind is the weirdest "art movie" she has ever seen.

Slipping in somewhere between Green Day and a terrible attempt at T-Rex, they take everything I love about Glam Rock and rape it so hard that they make The Sweet look like Black Flag.

Unlike the bands they seem to idolize, their music lacks any originality or interest. But they dress up in their idea of the late 70's glitter bands, which manifests itself into their own unique brand of pseudo-glam, tranny goth.
The kind of horrific late 20's fashion nightmare that people go through because they weren't weird enough in high school...(you just know these clowns grew up in Port Moody or some shit).

This 7 inch is a 4 song snorefest with one of the worst titles I think I have ever come across. It's not enough that it is the stupidest concept for a name (get it? It's a 7 inch!) but it provides a nightmarish connotation about their limp glammy penises.

On their recent US tour, Pretty Vanilla drummer Karson Wolfe came to his senses and quit the band and flew home to rekindle some dignity.
We encourage the others to do the same.

You can find this record in the sale bin of your local record store in 6 months.

-Darby Wong