Fetch

     "Fetch" by Melt-Banana. Black cat, odd ghost things, spooky cave; I'm sold. I pop it in my computer to be greeted by an inconclusive resonance of bells and various other like noises, until about 30 seconds in where a lone guitar begins to emerge. I have high expectations for the climax of this build  up, so I listen in anticipation. After about a minute and 15 seconds a steady drumbeat and bassline join the scene. 30 seconds later a dynamic guitar riff comes in to intensify it right up to its peak, and then... I hear an instrument almost like a mouse attempting screamo. With this, I'm immediately evicted from my trance and made to question exactly what it is I'm listening to. In all my time of blindly listening to albums, I don't think I've ever been so unprepared for such an unpleasant surprise. Looking back I'd dub it Yoko Ono's experimental teenage years. 

     From there on Fetch neither got better or worse, my ears only got soarer. My only respite was the uncommon snippet of instrumental ruckus throughout the songs. This went on for forty minutes when I finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel and heard silence. After listening to this all the way through, I had to do some research to figure out how Melt-Banana even got signed in the first place. Upon doing so, I learned that Melt -Banana is a Japanese noise rock band that started in the 90's. Surprisingly, they have a huge cult following and Fetch happens to be their 11th studio album, receiving close to five stars on iTunes. I'm at least astounded by this knowledge, and at most outraged at how the combination of sidewalk construction and female squawking could become so popular. But nevertheless, the only purpose this album could ever serve me is a guaranteed win in any "here, let me show you the worst music ever" contests.