Clearly the work of the devil. Resisting temptation, there will be no reference to corporate plastic marionettes here. Nor will there be any suggestion that rope would be a better material to attach to the evil *NSYNC, who, with their dire sub-Backstreet Boys twaddle, packaged in plastic, attempt to exploit the meagre pockets of the teenage market.
Not until, that is, the musical content has been given the thorough mauling it deserves.
'Digital Get Down', one of the songs for which the band get a co-writer credit, is particularly tragic/comedic, with its vocoderised voices and modem sounds. Give them enough rope.
There are over twice as many different songwriters credited on this album, and Lisa 'Left-Eye' you should be particularly ashamed of yourself for 'Space Cowboy Yippie Yi Yay'. Things have come to be in a pretty terrible state when a song by Richard Marx (ask your history teacher) comes to be the highlight on any album.
The only sign of hope comes in the sleeve notes, where, in-between copious religious dedications, JC (the one who looks like he's been all the way through puberty) tells of the battles and struggles the band had to get this album out. To those who fought the good fight, we salute you.
