Hey Canada, Here's Your Nickelback!

I thought I was going to write a satire piece on the band Nickelback, touting their song writing and fashion and sound while being tongue-in-cheek about it, but I can't. And I have to get these words out or they will continue to gnaw at my optical nerves when they are not busy gnawing at my weiner ligaments.

A couple years ago we saw the glorious end of the band "Creed," who is now some other puss-rock band with a different lead singer who also happens to sound like farting into a coffee can. Creed was a band that came from Christian-rock roots, and even worse, Canada. Canada is not known for its rocking. If you start to say "What about Rush?" I will be elbow-deep in your ass before you get to the R.

Creed was not ever a good band. They were barely tolerable by rock standards. But somebody bought into them. Probably Dave Matthews Band fans who needed something edgier, but couldn't quite handle the deep lyrics of 3 Doors Down, who will be flayed later. Creed slid off the charts when their lead singer, Scott Stapp, decided to pursue other careers, like drunken slob, and/or yelling "I'M SCOTT STAAAAPP!" while being tazered by airport officials. Can we take you high-ah? No. Now finish detailing my car.

3 Doors Down and Creed were shat-forth around the same time. 3 Doors Down has gone on to record pretty much nothing but songs to be played at teen weddings in the Southern states. Perfect, since it was 3DD's music playing a few months prior to the wedding that night at the quarry, when a young tire technician met a tube-top full of daddy issues in a pool of beer. Much like the old saying about the 90 year old man who was asked how things were going, after losing control of his bowels and his ability to get an erection, "I'm not sure what it's called, but it sure ain't living." The flaccid shit-flood that is 3DD, it ain't music.

And now Nickelback... wow.
They answer the question "What would Michael Bolton sound like if he had an electric guitar, a smoking habit, and testicles?"
They answer the question "What should I listen to while I sit in my mini-truck outside the house of the girl I'm stalking?"
They answer the question "What would a band sound like if Metallica had sex with a caribou that just got t-boned by a tourist bus chock-full of under-medicated schizophrenics?"

From the overwrought vocals of the Lead Singer, "Chad The Disgusting" (again with the name, Chad is not the name of a rocking frontman, unless it's Chad Roberts) to the formulaic power ballad guitars of Dipass McSorley and Butt-Finger Groatman, Nickelback is officially on their way to the county fair circuit. Every song sounds the same, every song talks about the same crap, and after a while a person cannot be THAT negative and THAT sad about a life that never happened. These guys sound like a High School Funeral.

Canada has done a great disservice to the world by allowing that band to leave the borders. But then again, sometimes you're not "Presenting" something as much as you are "Kicking it the F out of the lean-to." I guess I would be less aggressive towards this band if they began slipping "Sorry, We're Under Contract" notices inside of every CD they press. Until that day, I shall think of Nickelback while doing shirtless push-ups in my basement, listening to Pantera, finishing my "Iron Maidin" tattoo... oh CRAP...

First person to vomit on Chad Kroeger gets $10, AMERICAN.


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