Dushkin the proletariat drifter scum with an uncanny attraction to cookies and Moruku, whose title was censored for your safety step out of their darkened rooms briefly, get together once a week and exchange a record. Each must listen to the record continuously at least once, write a review, give it a score, and return the week for more. Stay tuned for more as they bring you the Record Exchange.

I can complain all I want, I don’t like Christmas. For me to receive a Christmas record, is like getting a knitted sweater. I pretend to like it, but I’m actually disgusted by how stick and kitchy it is.

However, this time, I’m pretty satisfied. No kidding, satisfied. So what if it’s a chistmas record, it sure doesn’t sound like one.

Moruku has crazes, and it comes and goes. This time, he was Christmas-obsessed. I remember last year, the guy held a poker face and insisted he’s a buddhist. This year, he even went shopping for christmas. I tend to suspect it has something to do with his newly acquired girlfriend. (Note: yes, I insist she’s your girlfriend.)

Having just heard that someone I used to idle with on IRC just died, so listening to Los Straitjackets just isn’t what I want to listen to, so no, I won’t relisten to the record, but just work from memory. I know this is a record review, but I have to interject here. Seriously, I join ##otw for a mere ten minutes and I already at that point I wish I never did. Really, “rot in pees”, that’s what they said. They started arguing about how long his session’s been inactive. Ever read The Stranger? It’s sort of like that. Kids, don’t do drugs, because that’s what happens, you OD and nobody gives a crap.

To define Season, I’d say it’s a mix between surf rock and what sounds like that latino. I can definitely hear the influence.

Luckily, Los Straitjackets managed to avoid those horrible bells that people keep putting in Christmas-related everything. I did hear them being used in “I Wanna Be Your Dog” (The Stooges), and that was good, but besides that - sorry, nothing.

I, as a Christmas-hater, feel this record could have scored higher.

Verdict: 6 out of 10 Santas.

Moruku is supposed to be doing a review as we speak. And I thought mine was overdue. Stick around for the next review.

Dushkin the proletariat drifter scum with an uncanny attraction to cookies and Moruku, whose title was censored for your safety step out of their darkened rooms briefly, get together once a week and exchange a record. Each must listen to the record continuously at least once, write a review, give it a score, and return the week for more. Stay tuned for more as they bring you the Record Exchange.

I was never happier to hear any track in One from the Heart until tonight. It’s true, I’ve seen it, good is relative to bad.

Wait, this review is about Metaphorical Music not about One from the Heart. To put it quite simply, after 2002 I found myself completely unable to relate to hip-hop, rap or reggae. Something about it simply stopped clicking in my mind, it wasn’t new anymore, it was boring, I’ve had enough of it. The 90s were becoming a mere vague memory, “yesterday’s fashion”, rap’s mid-late shock period was long gone.

I’m sorry to say it, but I still can’t relate to it. Nevertheless, as part of this deal, I’m required to at least listen to it once. Knowing Moruku, I thought he’d be sending me some shoegaze, or folkish indie or something like that. Much to my surprise (as well as shock and dismay) he did not. In fact, he sent me Metaphorical Music.

The thought of it being a hip-hop record never crossed my mind, until of course, I began listening.

The first thing that struck me was the drum rhythm, the familiar hip-hop style. Nujabes unfortunately fails to break free from the cliché sound that accompanies production line hip-hop.

Certainly, this is not ordinary production line hip-hop. I must say, I owe them brownie points for that. Sure, the vocals is the same old masculine “hood” stereotype, and the beats are, well, familiar - it does seem to have quite a few jazz influences. For instance, while sampling is used, it’s not sound effects that are sampled, but instruments. Nujabes definitely don’t hide their being samples, as they repeat regularly exactly the same and are cut suddenly.

Structure-wise, the record is fairly ambient, though not bland. It makes so-so background music, though at the same time it’s somewhat intrusive at first, but after the dust settles in, the wind instrument riff samples become normal. Nobody pulls that off as well as Brian Eno does, bu I suppose not everybody’s a mastermind like Eno.

The lyrics are, unfortunately full of clichés, the word “bitch” is repeated a couple of times, and maybe if I could make out more of the lyrics (can’t get used to those accentuated masculine voices) maybe I’d be able to actually make sense out of it.

Moruku! Stop this torture! Do me some justice, give me something good, like La Folie which I gave you. Wonder how that one’s coming, actually. I never got tired of La Folie myself, it’s eternal, though he may not share the same opinion.

Am I a fan of hip-hop, or am I going to change my mind about it? Not significantly, no.

Artistic Value: I listen to the record, the record finishes, I go back to whatever I was doing completely unaffected. I can’t relate to it, personally, and I just don’t see it. Sorry. Introspective lyrics, anyone?

Originality: Sure, the occasional jazz influence is fun, I suppose. But, really, those beats - what were you thinking?

Entertainment Value: Nothing in particular. It’s a fairly good ambient record.

Craftsmanship: Fairly streamlined, nothing stunning. They certainly don’t lose marks for this problem.

Score: 3 out of 10 brownies.

What’s Moruku doing this week? Seems like he’s lost in the depths of insanity with The Stranglers’ La Folie. See you next week.