MOMENT: Songs for the Self-Destructive: CD

Minute by miserable monotonous minute, Moment irritate and annoy my much-abused ears to no end with their poppy crybaby emo banality. “Waaa-waaa-waaa. My pussy’s hurting. Waaa-waaa-waaa. I’m such a tortured lil’ suburban twit. Waaa-waaa-waaa. My soul’s lost in a swirl of caffeine-saturated confusion. Waaaaaaa!” Gawd, somebody obviously lopped off these whiney lil’ brats’ testicles. Yep, it’s neutered sonic sappiness for Generation Duh, and all I can do is sit back and pity the fools who consider audial drudgery like this to be a viable form of artistic expression. Complete utter uselessness! Now if you’ll please excuse me, I think I shall cover myself in a thick colorful coating of chunky Moment-induced vomit. Mmmmm, sweet! -Roger Moser, Jr.

 –guest (Espo)