The things we do for tacos...
One of those things involves wasting 26 minutes in a harmless but meaningless vanity project by three Philadelphia Eagles offensive linemen. The vinyl to this charitable endeavor has sold out numerous times. Good for these Eagles and their local rock friends for doing good work. Again, mostly forgettable and silly. The long-term takeaway for me will be the Merrill Reese reading of the Clement Moore classic. Everyone else sounds fine. I disagree with the idea that they are good singers. These dudes would hardly raise an eyebrow at karaoke bar. Just because their voices are isolated doesn't mean they're good. I bet you are mostly hearing the more familiar versions anyway, which this LP doesn't take much effort to reinvent. It's all fine; it's all whatever.
One of those things does NOT involve debasing myself and listening to the Beach Boys. Fuck those hacky wack jobs forever. Stealing Chuck Berry songs and copying and pasting lyrics about surfing is not innovative. I'd rather listen to Jordan Mailata squeal for charity than give Brian Wilson 1/10th of a penny with a Spotify listen. Fuck them forever.
Now, tacos please!
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