Even cats are confused
Mike Parisi, in his March 7 music review, described Frontbutt's musical act as "silly, inspired, compelling, and tedious, sometimes simultaneously."
What the hell does that mean?
I am no stranger to Rock and Roll criticism. I am accustomed to writers referring to riffs as souffles of Wittgensteinian wistfulness or comparing a song to the heroic coupling of Adonis to French horticultural mores.
But for the life of me, I couldn't quite divine what Parisi was trying to say. How can something be silly, inspired, compelling, and tedious, all at once?
Truth be told, I tried, briefly, to understand his statement. I grabbed a clown nose, a Bible, a 10-minute Croatian short film, and a tape of William F. Buckley reading prime numbers, and I tried to assimilate these elements into my consciousness simultaneously. Nothing came of it, aside from my cats interpreting the commotion as a prelude to letting them outside.
Could your critic please explain what his phrase meant? I want to ensure I have the proper medication for my next trip to see Front Butt.