A Crappy Band in the Parlance of Our Times

Complete with repetitive lyrics and forgettable guitar riffs, As Friends Rust has established its place as a generic garage band in its authoring of "A Trophy Band in the Parlance of Our Times". The CD opens with a promising, Sublime-like grunge song with a mildly catchy beat. This credit to the band ends 40 seconds into the song. A bland chorus with unintelligent lyrics assaults the listener.

The raspy voice of the singer misses the endearing qualities of Rancid's Tim Armstrong and comes off at best annoying. The moronic words spewing forth from front man Damien Moyal's gutteral throat are accompanied by lame guitar riffs that fail to do more than drown out the sub-par vocals and drums. The simplistic bass lines are barely audible under the aural slaughter of the rest of the band's murderous rampage of suckitude.

With song titles like "More than Just Music, It's a Hairstyle" and "The Most Americanist" It appears that As Friends Rust attempted to come off as witty and endearing, but succeeded only in making unfortunate listeners like me thanks some form of God that there is more to listen to than this garbage.

I will remember very little of this album, not because it was obscenely short (clocking in at 17 minutes), but because it was bland, generic, and generally a shitty excuse for a nu-metal carbon-copy of Limp Bizkit's best album (I have no idea what that might be).

Regrettably yours,
Mike