MGF Reviews Driver Side Impact – The Very Air We Breathe

Driver Side Impact – The Very Air We Breathe
Victory Records (5/29/07)
Rock / Emo

There is this book that everyone talks about called When Bad Things Happen to Good People, by Harold Kushner, that tries, to a better degree than I ever could, to explain God’s reasoning behind hurting good people.

Here is my opinion of bad things happening to good people.

Now, I am sure you didn’t click on this article of an emo album for a philosophy lesson but nonetheless here it is—they just do. The same reason two rival sports teams both say that God is on their side, apparently God does choose sides. It is selfish to think that God (or perhaps I should lowercase it in a effort not to offend and make it the agnostic spiritual force) is going to step into your life and pay off the mortgage you could never have afforded in the first place or whatever. Should you blame god for a small child getting hit by a bus? No, of course not. He didn’t push the kid. Sure, he invented the kid and the bus, but things just happen. That being said, Driver Side Impact, in this little review, I will be playing god, and you are the small child getting hit by the bus.

I am goddamn sick of emo. It is pointless, unemotional, yet sappy-pappy crap. This album is so whiney and heavy-handed that I honestly am vomiting in my throat. Seriously, it’s giving me an ulcer holding this flood of bile back. They don’t even give their music the slight creative push that the other emo albums I have reviewed in the past have. These boys should be castrated and roam the Earth as asexual eunuchs because their music is so effeminate they have no need for their penises and testes. This is such a cookie cuter album of every other album in a genre that, ironically, breeds on its originality. Shame on this genre and shame on all who listen to it. You are Britney Spears, you are Christina Aguilera, you are Ashlee Simpson… You play your own instruments, so what?! You don’t do it very well, even pretend to practice or have any passion. This is nothing but a quick grab at the cash cow’s udder.

If you like emo, fine, buy the album, do whatever the f*ck you want, just get out of my way on the street with your mascara, 10-gauge earrings, bland nautical star tattoos and hair that most women spend less time on. Haven’t you noticed that you all look alike? Life is going to be okay: you will move out of your parents’ house, you will find a pretty girl/boy that will sleep with you, college will open your eyes, that bully is going to get syphilis and work as a bouncer at a suburban strip club and your poetry will suck until your grow up a little; no one gives a shit about your feelings so get over it, life sucks but there is nothing your bitching is going to help with that, and if it sucks so much then take off your studded belt and make a f*cking difference!

There is nothing wrong with dark music but it should rattle the cage, anger the masses and spawn revolution; not piss in its pants about how unfair life is as a white male and masturbate until it cries! On the EL train today I had to stand next to this little-emo-shit (probably on his way to take a semester of film classes at Columbia College Chicago before dropping out because, lo-and-behold, filmmaking is hard) that stunk like he hadn’t showered in three days and it was disgusting. I’m glad that looking like a reject is the style now but please shower and then apply some Royal Crown Gel into your bed head for the rest of us! Just let your mom sign the waiver to have another one of your ears pierced at Claire’s in the mall!

I admitted in my last article that I went to Hot Topic; I’m not proud of it, but at least I was a dark teen (not a goth mind you, let us make that distinction right now) but I was dark! It was Pantera, Sepultura, Primus, Rage Against the Machine, pre-RIAA Metallica, early Korn… music that meant something. Emo is the metaphorical soundtrack of the suburbs… bland, emotionless, vacant, bellyaching, and distant. Keep this up and you will become your parents. This is what happens when parents let everyone win in little league. This is the by-product of the “you’re all winners” attitude. A generation of bitchy little snots who cry when they don’t get what they want.