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Rusty Tomaski:
Oh... Sweet Irony
I used to think that Swedes were infallible. It all started with the beacon of light that is ABBA; and, of course, there was that brief obsession with The Hives a few years back; then came Sahara Hot Nights, The Sounds, etc. I was totally convinced that genetics proved Swedes to be somewhat musically superior beings. For me, they could do no wrong. Then there was Rusty Tomaski. Tomaski, hailing from the northern parts of Sweden, makes his debut with OhSweet Irony. Though one may be tempted to investigate Tomaskis work of Nordic origin due to the tantalizingly precious, handmade album sleeves, be forewarned that these darling pieces of paper from the design department of Asaurus Records are as good as the album gets. OhSweet Irony consists of thirteen one to two-minute songs, presumably recorded in Tomaskis dorm room. Let me tell you, they do not amount to much. Lo-fi, one-man recordings can be brilliantly creepy and emotional (see one of Canadas better exports: Hayden), but, in this case, they are dreadfully boring. It seems that Tomaski has not quite grasped or realized the rule dictating that bedroom recordings are only valuable if you are genius. Plucky, folksy guitars and intro tracks do not make you a genius. They arent even good enough to rate as bad poetry. Theyre just garbage. Thank you, Rusty Tomaski, for debunking my theory.
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