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The latest release from Eric "Everlast" Schrody,
Love, Death And The Ghost Of Whitey Ford, is - how can I put
this lightly - a total and complete waste of time and musical effort.
The album has little to offer in the way of originality, creativity
or driving beats. The first song on the album is "Kill The Emperor",
a thinly veiled tirade against President George W. and a showcase
for the word fuck and it just goes downhill from there. It's tragic
when the best song on a record is a cover, in this case it's a half-assed,
kitschy version of Johnny Cash's rockabilly classic "Folsom
Prison Blues"
Everlast's sheer lack of imagination on this record is both sad and
surprising. His previous albums House Of Pain and Whitey
Ford Sings The Blues both had flashes of good times and creative
ability; Love... however, has nothing going for it. The raps
sound tired, the music is all shit we've heard in a million hip hop
tunes, the song titles are lackadaisical (three of the sixteen songs
have the word stone in the title); it just all seems "phoned
in" to me. I just shook my head as the cd defamed my stereo.
"If you're not going to try any harder then this, Everlast"
I thought to myself, "then hang up the guitar and microphone
and get a nine to five job like everybody else."
Hell, maybe I'm nitpicking or maybe it's just that I'm not expecting
much. The genre of rap as a whole has never been one of my favorites
but I will admit there are a few artists in it's history that were
groundbreakers and innovators; for instance there's Run DMC,
Public Enemy, KRS-One, The Beastie Boys, Ice-T.
They are all giants, luminaries in their craft. Everlast is not among
those names. He has given the world of music some ok tunes; "
What It's Like", "Jump Around", "Shamrocks and
Shenanigans" and "White Trash Beautiful" but it appears
those days are all but a memory.
Listening to Love, Death And The Ghost Of Whitey Ford from
beginning to end is drudgery, plain and simple. The album would be
an endurance test for even the biggest, most diehard of rap fans.
I did not want to jump around, I did not want to party. I just wanted
to throw the disc out of the window of my speeding car as I wished
for Whitey Ford to once again sing the blues.
-Danny R. Phillips
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