Kubb
Mother

THE REVIEW

We start off terribly: Kubb is a Swedish game of Viking origin, halfway between bocce and bowling. And I hate both. It still seems childish to judge an album poorly just for a "wrong" choice of band name, so I pop it into the stereo and listen to it for an entire day. Don't you do it.

The opening track, Remain, is truly bad and predictable, so much so that I find myself with my right index finger on the STOP button. But being stupid and stubborn, I carry on. Following is I don't mind, a third-grade musical theme, and it's here that my relationship with Kubb starts to heavily deteriorate. I continue to listen in disbelief and come across Grow, THE final masterpiece of a low-grade medley: a cocktail skilfully mixed between Gospel, '50s Doo-Wop, John Lennon on his thirteenth joint, and Take That. Finally, at the eighth track, the ultimate consecration: Chemical is the straw that breaks the camel's back and the album collapses on itself. After droning on about love (and I do love love songs, imagine that) in every single piece, a nice text about drugs arranged in "Wanted to be the Pink Floyd" style makes you want heroin right away, instead of dissuading the masses from drug consumption. As if that weren't enough, 4'30" into the track (which lasts a good 6 minutes), a nearly interesting piano riff enters, instantly demolished by yet another gospel choir straight out of Chuck and Nora.

So after breaking my speakers (to use a delicate term) for the whole album, at the penultimate piece Kubb bring out their claws with Bitch, but they break their nails. The first verse suggests the arrival of a distortion hell, making the Gorgoroth sound like they're playing clean guitars in comparison... but instead, nothing. There's not even any energy when they scream "bitch" throughout the chorus. Depressing. For those who understand English, we have metaphors and lyrics bordering on the ridiculous; for those who don't understand English but appreciate good music, we have melodies and arrangements bordering on the embarrassing. Let's say it outright: there's not a single idea in the entire album. Maybe I'm picky, but getting to 2007 and facing rhymes like soul/control, bad/head, name/game, you/do, in 4/4 with a nice C chord progression underneath, has its own effect. Laxative, I mean. To be precise, the album is from 2006, but Kubb still wouldn't be pioneers even if we found ourselves in 1965. This well-recorded pearl of banality (I do like the sound a lot) is in short one of those products that makes you say "how did this happen?" even if it should be noted that the lead voice (Harry Collier) isn't bad at all, while the rest is a true musical tragedy, a fatal chord accident, a blunder of banal major scales.

Next time I swear I will review an album, this is simply a mistake.