Album In Review: Puddle of Dudd
Ahhh, yes. The “reality show” of rock n’ roll: Puddle of Mudd. Simple, bubble gum raunch that, like a fly continuously hitting a window pane, keeps coming back for more even though it’s absolute brain rot. Lacking any sort of substance, I’m pretty sure that the only reason they’ve had any success is because they used words like “ass” and “fuck” during a time period of Smash Mouth and Sugar Ray. Oh, how risqué of them! Give me a break.
Into the Pit Overall Ranking 1.5/5.0:
Assuming you actually like the band, the album itself is nothing to write home about. Besides the fact that Scantlin’s voice has always reminded me of what a cat in a microwave might sound like, it’s a bit more watered down and mellow than most of the stuff they’ve released in the past. Some might call it their attempt to be diverse, I call it lazy.
Let me put it this way: I get more excitement out of sweeping the floor than I got from this album. At least then I get something from it … a clean floor. Listening to the songs only gave me a wicked case of “yawnorrea” and a complete sense of wasted time. With the guitar’s basic three-chord riff and the childlike boom-boom-plack of the drums in the song “Uh Oh”, it’s all the same old “Look at me, I keep fucking up” song we’ve heard over and over again. Newsflash, Wes: NOBODY is surprised. Then he does some sort of break down that can only be described as comparable to the “Show Me Your Genitals” guy on YouTube but without the humor. That basically sums up the entire album, but if you’re still not convinced, here are the titles to a few of the other tracks:
Go To Hell
My Kind Of Crazy
Kiss It All Goodbye
Notice a trend? My four-year-old daughter could pick up on that pattern, if I chose to subject her to such atrocity.
The mastering and mixing of this album was completely off but I can only assume it’s because Webb just wanted to move the fuck on and cash his paycheck. Can’t blame a guy for that, honestly. I did catch some vocal layering in the mix, which I’m typically a fan of however, I was a little shocked that Scantlin even attempted to harmonize considering I can hardly picture him even tying his shoes in the morning. All in all, no real bells and whistles when it comes to production, which is fine. Puddle of Mudd probably isn’t really a band appropriately suited to really stretch out your creative muscles anyway. However, the overall sound is ‘meh’ but I applaud Cameron Webb on tolerating Scantlin’s incessant whining for hours on end.
As I’m writing down my final thoughts on Welcome to Galvania, I’m relieved by the realization that this is the last time I’ll ever have to think about this album again. Excuse me while I go squeeze a ketchup bottle and record the fart noises it makes so I can redeem my loss of inspiration due to this album.