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Transplants | review | punk | Lollipop

Transplants

Transplants (Hellcat)
by Morgan Coe

Here are some things I learned from Tim Armstrong's latest vanity project: "Rapping" does not mean yelling along with the beat, and "toasting" does not mean slurring behind it. Putting thin, processed guitars over "creepy" synths was played-out by the time Ministry started doing it. Putting a "heavy" guitar riff over a rap beat was played out by the time Run DMC and the Beastie Boys stopped doing it. There isn't a chance in hell that Transplants' crew really has "the most game, the most money, the most hos, the most honeys," because they lack any semblance of "skills" or "flow." Victor Ruggiero (from Slackers) is an extremely talented musician and songwriter, and wasting him on cheesy one-handed keyboard parts is a crime against music. When the only drummer you can find for your "weird" side project is the guy from Blink 182, that's God's way of saying, "Don't do it."

But seriously, folks: This is one of the worst records I've heard in years. The Transplants make even Sublime look good, and not just because they steal the same reggae basslines and mouth the same druggy clichés in the same fake Jamaican accents. If mixing rap and punk sounds appealing to you but you've already heard the Beastie Boys, Urban Dance Squad, the Shed Dwellaz, the Beatnigs, Disposable Heroes Of Hiphoprisy, Candiria, and the amazing Warlock Pinchers, you certainly won't want to waste your time with Transplants.
(2798 Sunset Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90026)

 


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