My Morning Jacket
Evil Urges

It is not my usual practice to write about albums that I do not consider worthy of attention. Usually, I just don't bother with them and that's it. I prefer to recommend interesting listens rather than completely trash a band. Except in cases where you're eagerly awaiting a new release from a band you are particularly attached to, and you find yourself holding (or rather in the PC's HD) a piece of steaming dung freshly served.

Because ultimately, that’s what "Evil Urges" is. A fecal matter born from a mind that was once enlightened like that of Jim James, singer and creator of MMJ. A typical example of a leader overwhelmed by his own enormous ego, a victim of a rare case of cerebral flatulence. You have no idea how much it pains me to write this, given that in the last 5 years MMJ has accompanied both beautiful and rough moments, so much so that the double live album "Okonokos" was my album of the year in 2006. But when disappointment reaches such heights of awfulness, I am unable to refrain from writing about it, even if only to prevent some unaware and careless listener from getting caught in this mass of animal dung along their personal musical journey.

Why is "Evil Urges" so awful? For various reasons, first among them is the desire to do something different without having any idea of what. And without having the slightest grasp of the thin line between eccentricity and kitsch. There’s no other way to explain the embarrassing ugliness of the first 5 tracks. Stuff that makes you want to take the album and turn it into a fun frisbee for your dog. To be completely honest, the initial title track isn't entirely horrible (also because Jim's falsetto is still within limits; it sounds like Lionel Ritchie but it promises something good), and it includes a fun hard intermezzo. Too bad it is also one of the few almost decent things on the entire album. Starting from "Touch Me I'm Going To Scream Pt. 1", things go downhill and the smell of fresh dung begins to stink up the room: terrible sounds, which not even the Kajagoogoo or other similar musical abortions could have devised, soporific rhythm, and total lack of sense. "Highly Suspicious" can even come across as amusing, but for those who know MMJ, it’s a shock. Fake guitar like a Playstation game, or U2’s "POP" period, pathetic singing like Prince during his really bad times, unbearable Gregorian choir. But the worst are the next two tracks, devoid of any reason to exist, unless you’re a fan of Michael Bolton, your daughter's name is Chanel, Samantha, and so on. It's actually difficult for me to listen to such an appalling pair of tracks ("I'm Amazed/Thank You Too" for the record) while writing, as I am overcome by aural nausea. Especially the second track is the lowest point to which any contemporary artist can aspire, an indescribably revolting mix between a sappy ballad for a housewife in heat or a pimply teenager, and the theme to "Love Boat".

I’ll spare you the rest (I also wanted to spare myself, but in the interest of being thorough I decided to put myself through the pain, barely making it to the end of this sadistic ordeal), just know that the average level consistently maintains a high level of mediocrity, between late '80s Rock FM (or AOR trash), with just a hint of recovery in "Aluminum Park" and "Remnants", where you can faintly glimpse the balls of a band now enslaved by the puppeteer James, who is himself lost in one of those truly nasty personal trips you would never want to join. Hopefully the lowest point of my 2008 listening experiences.