Labels: Forrest Park
Review by: Morris Breadknife
The Haunted Continents are some kinda time travellin’ duo out of New York who,
according to the chunderous press bio gumf that came attached to this cd have set out to
create “an entirely new subgenre of alternative rock” by marrying up the apparently previously
disparate worlds of 50’s pop and 90’s alt rock, i.e. Buddy Holly and Weezer, as if Weezer
themselves had not already absorbed a healthy Buddy Holly influence, even to the point of
naming a song after him. As if we need any more subgenres of alternative rock, a moribund
term in itself. As if writing a page of such corporate cringe hype is gonna garner your release
a good review somewhere righteous like collective zine.
Anyways what you get here is roughly half an hour of wingey crying into yer
milkshake songs about girls and fucked relationships with scuzzy guitars and oooooh
aaaaaaah vocals and drums that whack out a beat but don’t manage much else and lots
of trite saccharine references to “falling in love” and “making love” and song titles that
namecheck the blues but aint really bluesy at all* and packaging adorned with photos of nice
amps “” look there’s a Sunn! Look there’s a Mesa Boogie! and jeez Mr Sandman fix me a
drink. Take me back in time to the 1950’s when life was simple and only the rich folks had a
TV and Marty McFly had not yet invented the skateboard and then forwards back to a hideous
altered future where Biff and Marty’s hideous test tube love children McFly have taken over
the world and Wheatus are considered to be the greatest living recording artists ever and
yeah. Rockin’.
* At least not in a proper, blind, poor, black and pissed on the porch kinda way, more in a
quaint Status Quo kinda way.