The Flaming Feces

As most of you know, I have been waiting, pacing, longing for the Sigur Ros concert to arrive, which is going to blow my head right off.

Interestingly, I happened upon the fact that The Fiery Furnaces are playing the same night at a different venue, and can’t help but chuckle. In case you’ve never heard them, thank your lucky stars because they SUCK. In fact, they don’t just suck, they SORK. There. I had to invent a new word to describe how gut-wrenchingly god-awful these clowns are. If you’re a guy, dangle your balls right above a meat grinder for 45 minutes. Listening to the Blueberry Boat EP is probably a worse experience.

Really, I should be giving props to my boy Nando, who consistently hooks me up with new, awesome, and interesting music. This, however, is the one band he’s thrown my way that’s truly heinous. I usually keep an open mind, and have no problem with the “indie” scene, because truly, a lot of indie music isn’t so independent – it’s just different from the bucket-o’-crap that gets regular rotation on the radio. The Fiery Furnaces, though, are just total assholes. They are the type of people you just want to punch in the face because they have to know that some music critic is going to be “blown away by their unique sound,” which is no better than the sound of me taking a dump.