Child Abuse

Sometimes when a reviewer receives an album, it can be difficult to decide how best to approach the review. The “spin” so to speak. Is a band history in order? What are their associations with other bands? Is there a glib, irreverent take to be done on the music that will entertain the reader?

Not unhindered by other commitments that have left many a CD waiting to have their voices heard, it has taken this reviewer a long time to formulate how best to approach writing about the debut album from Brooklyn’s Child Abuse but the procrastination has been completely unwarranted. It needs no flourished prose to entice the reader to run out as any good consumer would and track down the aforementioned music discussed. It requires no explanation of the band and their history. It needs only a simple summation with a qualification of opinion.

With that being said…this is without a doubt, the worst album this poor, wretched, unfortunate reviewer has ever had the extreme misfortune to write about. Ever since first hearing this album and through all subsequent listens afterward, the professionalism in me is Roman-Greco wrestling with the adolescent in me that wants to spew profanity after (in some countries) blasphemous profanity decrying this terrible, terrible album.

While most certainly going for the “noise” crowd, the squees and squonks accompanying “musicians” will have even the most self-respecting Locust fan ducking around the corner for fear of being associated with such drivel. Nails on a chalkboard tend to make me grind my teeth until jagged little shards fall out of my mouth. This album has close to the same effect. Any and all points given at the conclusion of this review will be the measure of my reluctance and shameful admiration that there has been an album created that revolts me so.

With music, it can often be simplified thusly: there’s accessible, there’s not accessible, and there’s shit. Which is to say, not accessible in any way shape or form, with no redeeming qualities and cannot be justified by even the most tenacious and loquacious scenester. The latter is very, very rare. While with most forms of art or entertainment, its validity or lack thereof is up to the individual tastes of each and every person courageous or curious enough to explore new ideas and possibilities. To create anything so devoid of art is an utter waste of time for both the creator and the listener.

The irony is not lost on me that I have now spent a significant period of time talking about a band I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I also understand that negative reviews such as these can empower bands such as Child Abuse who will no doubt relish a review such as this, but I implore you, gentle readers…do not be curious. Do not be inquisitive. Do not read these words of warning and conclude, “There’s no way that it can be THAT bad.” In good faith and trust, the links to associated websites will be supplied as with all reviews submitted for this site. Do yourself the best favor of your life. Don’t click on them. Taste is usually subjective, and if you seek this band out, you are misguided – but if you actually like this album? You are wrong.

1.3 / 10 — Kevin Fitzpatrick