When’s Someone Gonna Pony Up and Give Abbey Road The Bad Review it Deserves?
Jonathan H. Lennon
It seems as if everyone and their god damn mother has heard the “iconic” Beatles album Abbey Road. If you haven’t heard it, you’ve sure as hell mimicked that terrible, terrible album art of their dumb band members crossing a fucking street. “Hmm,” you wonder, “could that street that they’re standing on possibly be called something related to their ‘rock n roll’ screech album?” The answer, you soon find, is yes. They walked on a road and named their garbage-fire album after it. “Thought-provoking,” say some, “magnificent,” declare others, “timeless,” screech a final crowd of group-minded followers.
But the fare doesn’t stop at their so-called “artistic” album approach. Critics and fans alike all but nut over “the greatest album ever created.” But no one has the utter gall to say what I’m about to: Abbey Road was a goddamned insult to the concept of music.
Compared to the utter shite that is every single other Beatles album ever produced, Abbey Road seems like a piece of chewed gum that you left in your pants pocket, ran through the washer, and shoved back in your grotesque, drooling mouth to eventually slobber back onto the ground and plug an aux cord into.
It’s been how fucking long since this garbage came out? I’ve been waiting years for someone to finally give this shit-storm the disgraceful review it deserves, but I guess I’m the only real music reviewer left in the music industry. The allegedly dynamic album is nothing more than a half-assed attempt at dynamic experimentalism that reverts to monotonous strumming which has been circle-jerked into credibility by the meathead rock-praisers that have stolen and lightened music for decades.
Happy International Beatles Day, morons.