I’ve been sick for the last three days. Everything is sort of blurry because of the Ny Quil shots I’ve been slamming every half-hour. I hate snot running down my nose. I hate my bloodshot eyes feeling like they’re on fire. I hate my throat feeling like it’s about to crack. I hate This Radiant Boy. What sort of Saturday Morning punk rock is this? Sappy, smarmy, without an edge, without a purpose or a message, totally lacking in originality and talent, This Radiant Boy comes to us by way of Philadelphia and I wish they’d have stayed there. Vocalist Mike Guggino has a falsetto that makes Tiny Tim sound like Jim Morrison. Who wants to listen to that sniveling, whining stuff? Mix in the sugary mid-tempo chords and the requisite distortion and you’ve got yourself one stinker of a compact disc. Hold on for a second, I’ve got to blow my nose…damn, out of Kleenex…I’ll just use this here ridiculous, quasi-Dexter’s Laboratory album cover…there we go. Where was I? Oh yeah, this is an annoying record and I’d rather take a nap than listen to it again.
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