DMB
By Lucas Heffer

     As you read the title of this article, you may wonder what this abbreviation stands for.  Drunken Martian Bugs?  Dirty Mechanical Brits?  Nope, worse:  Dave Matthews Band.  I know, I know, it�s practically profane, right?  Well, my niche in the new Observer regime is partially music-oriented with my special form of social commentary at no extra charge (by the way, that�ll be $2.00 for the privilege of reading this).
      I feel compelled to warn you of the latest LP from this band whose goal is to someday enter the realm of mediocrity.  Yes, I know I�m a little behind, but I don�t have a contract, and bad music continues ad infinitum (that�s Latin, kids).  Specifically, I speak of Everyday, one of the worst misuses of modern musical instruments since Jimi Hendrix played his Stratocaster with his teeth�and that sounded good, mind you.
      Take the first EP, �I Did It�.  Did what? Screwed a few million people out of $12.95 at Target?  Lied to those same people and said you could form a decent band?  For the answers to these perplexing queries, one must look only to the next line: ��Guilty as charged�� Yeah, thought so.
      Hey, how about Dave Matthews� own voice?  I bet you wondered where the band name came from.  It�s untamed, yet unappealing.  Like Dylan, only�not.  On single #2, The Space Between, I swear I thought it was Tracy Chapman the first time it violated my audible range.  Gimme one reason to keep listening�and I�ll still turn it off.
      My advice, once again, free: Don�t buy this, or demand a refund if you were suckered into it, and go see
Jay and Silent Bob.  Twice.
Enjoy that?  I really don't care, but if you want to be heard:
[email protected]
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