You've probably heard of the hoo-ha surrounding a middling review of the new Black Crowes album, Warpaint, in Maxim magazine. It's said, the tricky part of the deal is... No one from Maxim could possibly have heard the record as no review copies had been circulated.
An initial thought might be... But why stop at just not circulating review copies?
When Our Man Likenthrope offered to judge records by their cover, we did some testing. So we're not disinterested observers. Likenthrope was good, very good. He drank a few bottles of Newcastle and went outside for a smoke and he was still good when he returned. Most reviews, truthfully, were actually better before we listened to the records. See how well versed artists are at packaging their bullshit these days.
They'll leverage anything.
The Black Crowes are upset when they should be ecstatic. Maxim has nothing to apologize for, to the Crowes or their readers.
Well maybe their readers for a review that suggests pretty much, this
record could be half good. If anyone at Maxim had bothered to listen to the album before reviewing
it, no way would they have given it so many as two and a half stars out
of five. And of course no, I haven't heard it either. But I am oh so
sure that such generous indifference is way more than the Black Crowes have
ever deserved anyway even at their commercial peak when they could
still hoodwink movie star girls. Dim ones, for sure, but still. That is
not a disparaging review in the least. And I'll admit, no I haven't
Too encouraging, if anything.
The ongoing protestations from the bands' management is satire Harry Shearer would be proud of and he knows rocknroll satire. Pete Angelus sounds like he'll still be issuing press releases when the album filling up the returns stockroom at the Virgin megastore in a few months. I listened to half of 'Goodbye Daughters of the Revolution' which seems to be a pointlesssongaboutnothing underpinned by an admirable Stones pastiche. They may be Bobby Gillespie's dream band, but is this really the best they can do after seven years away?
One time I did venture to the Greek Theatre on a night when Oasis and the Black Crowes shared the bill. Oasis went on first. Excellent show. Liam Gallagher telegraphed his intentions as I recall by coming out with his towel on before the show began. He was headed for an early bath. In his head at least. The more dispicable part of the evening was the chaotic parking which meant we couldn't escape the insufferable Black Crowes, nor the weak air guitar riffing of their fans. Imagine it. Being trapped there like that. It felt like forever.