Oh, and indeed, dear. This is the sort of shit that makes you feel like pulling a gun on yourself and squeezing the trigger with maximum force. If your a fan of the syrupy bollocks Aerosmith are trying to pass of as music these days then, you might enjoy this. If, however, you form part of the sane world and like your songs to come with even the smallest amount of integrity then you’ll find this as shite as I do. Painful trips to the dentist have been known to bring more of a smile to your face than this. You may or may not noticed, but I do not like American Hi-Fi.

From the second album opener ‘Surround’ dribbles out of the speakers at you, it’s obvious where we’re heading with this. It’s a one-way trip to the FM radio stations of the world before a long stop off at the bank. So M.O.R. your Dad’ll like it and more deprived of emotion than John Major, American Hi-fi are duller than a Madeira cake with no cream or jam. Even the ‘International Hit Single’ that is ‘Flavor of the Week’ has been done a million times before and also a million times better. With it’s cliched tale of guy in love with taken Girl and vocals so sugary they threaten a major toothache, you could be forgiven for wanting to detonate every single member of this band. I’m desperately trying to think of a good thing to say about the band but, quite simply, there is nothing remotely positive about this poor excuse for a release.

To think that anyone out there above the age of twelve is buying this is, quite frankly, petrifying. Imagine an orange squash with a milliliter of orange and the rest of the cup filled with water, that’s the lack of substance we’re talking about. American Hi-Fi, enjoy your fifteen minutes of fame, because we’re counting down every last second of it.