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You know what’s glamorous about “glam bands”? Not much. Their music is incidental… secondary to the prime directive, which is “Figure Out A Way To Wear Make-Up In Public!” More often than not, the men in glam bands bear more of a resemblance to Johnny Bench than Johnny Depp. “Glam” is just hair metal without the chops, punk without the intensity and garage without the fashion sense.

We can thank the Internet once again for giving glam fans, or glans, as they like to be called, a way to reach out to one another on hot pink websites. Thank you, Internet! Thanks for the glam bands and the furries and the Japanese scat and the extreme body modification and the erotic Star Trek fan fiction in which Spock lovingly caresses Captain Kirk’s nutsack. Thank you!

So, speaking of visually abhorrent attention whores, here’s this week’s Barrel band..

Band: Pieces Of Eden
Hometown: Corapolis, PA
Genre: "Glam Rock"
.

Pieces of Eden

hurtchow says

Dear Pieces of Eden

<font face="Not Times New Roman">

Look into it.

mrb42 exclaims

Pieces Exxxposed!

For starters.. this will be the only time these posers will ever be overexposed.

From their bio:

"...You may even question your very existence..."

translation: "you may want to kill yourself during our set."

Green657 opines

When I take a look at the credentials for "Pieces of Eden", I find a bunch of impressive items.

Web Page:
MS Frontpage - standard template #4

Gig Calendar:
1 gig - CANCELLED.

Link to Halogen Records:
404 Not Found

Their bio says
Says Jerry on the music writing, "I really made a conscious effort to not over analyze the music while writing.." "..I really wanted to keep things simple and let the songs create themselves."

From the mp3's available on the website, Jerry should try analyzing the music just a little bit. I did...Analysis = Sucks Monster Ass

Forgive me if I'm wrong but, under the Patriot Act, isn't it now illegal for songs to write themselves. If it isn't illegal, now that I've heard "Pieces of Eden", it should be.

iangillis proffers

The Pieces Of Eden bio proves that honesty is indeed the best policy:

Exhibit A:

Says Jerry on the music writing, "I really made a conscious effort to not over analyze the music while writing.."

It shows Jerry.

Exhibit B:

...Jack's lyrics and brutal vocal delivery.

Jeez, these guys are already doing our work for us.

Pieces Of Eden are the carnies that work on the Roller Coaster Of Emotions!

Pieces Of Eden take you on an emotional roller coaster ride. You might smile, you might dance or sing along. You may even question your very existence.

The only thing these guys make me question is the existence of a just and loving God.

As promotional geniuses, these guys have no equals. If you correctly answer the five movie trivia questions on there website, you'll get free admission to their show AND a drink on the band (let's hope that the last reward is not to be taken literally). Coincidently, if you can find and answer the bonus sixth question on the website, you will get to accompany the band back to their basement apartment to see the real "Pieces Of Eden", if you catch my drift.

Also, is it just a coincidence that Corapolis, PA, sounds awfully close to Crapopolis, PA?

midasdouche replies

Pretty close. It's a rapidly aging Pittsburgh suburb. It's one of those places that no one really seems to go to or be from.

Borg9 proclaims

... honest tales of isolation, personal anguish, and addiction in a way that hasn't been done before.

Ladies and gentleman, Jack Glaros... the Scott Weiland of compulsive overeating!

These Hessians remind me of my hometown. Dudes are still rockin'. Still listening to the great dead rockstars. Still smoking Newports and using the word 'party' as a verb.

Bet they still sneak out to the garage and burn one.
"We use to be hiding from our parents, now we're hiding from our kids". Shameful.
Do you suppose they call each other dude? Or 'bro or dog when they talk? If they limited themselves to jamming out the beer tent at the Melon Festival, I'd...still make fun of them. Douches.
I feel bad for these sad sacks. But, not so bad that I can't goof on their craptacularness. My guess is the Web site was created by Jerry "freaky" Ray's woman - at Supersize productions. The graphics, the pictures...My eyes. The damn things, they hurt.

Jerry Ray shared a bill with Skid Row. In 1997? Not too kick ass, that...

Green 657 replies Photoshopically


Green657

BlueEyedDevil utters

Fun yet honest, spinning tales of isolation, personal anguish, and addictions in a way that hasn't been done before.


"Woo-hoo! Howyadoin' out there Scranton! We wanna hear ya make some nooiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiise! YEAH! This next one's about how I used to make my girlfriend turn tricks while I sucked off old men to support our junk habits! It's called 'We Like To Party'! MAKE SOME NOISE! 1-2-3-4!"

(crickets)

Yermom yells

Also on the demo disc, is the song Twilight.
This song runs slow yet powerful, rolling over
you like a land mover. Another perfect showcase for Jack's searing vocals, this track takes you on a ride from soft, sensitive and restrained, to angry, aggressive and chaotic.


Oddly enough, this is the same way I felt about navigating that God damn website. First the slow yet (not so) powerful transition between pages with the faggy fade, then the bouncing microphone took me from angry to agressive.

TammyHagar goes nuculer

After viewing this website, I have come to the conclusion that Pieces of Eden must exist in a state of altered reality. It is a reality in which Fabio got fat and decided to form a band with a chubby Paul Stanley, a flabby and ugly Scott Weiland, and a lesbian who packed on the pounds in the hopes her breasts could pass for man-boobs so that she could rock out like a real man. It is a reality in which fans pronounce, via the internet, that the above are "not only talented, but sexy too". It is a reality in which it is okay to have 15-year-old girls design websites.

So how did they get there? Well, you'd have to be pretty stupid to sell your soul to Axl Rose and not even get an actual gig out of it. (Just in case you were planning on going, their Jan 29th gig is cancelled.) Now, I'm no sci-fi enthusiast or anything but I think I have the answer.

See, I'm guessing that Jack Glaros' off-pitch (er, sorry... emotional) wailings combined with the sludge the rest of the band emits creates a bizzarre rift in time and space for a 5-15 mile radius around the studio/rehearsal space in which they play. This rift causes people to believe they are in an environment where not only do Pieces of Eden think they themselves are totally rad, but so do other people.

Sure, Pieces of Eden could just be another band of delusional douchebags who are so egotistical they think they're actually talented. But they could be evil geniuses. I can't tell you for sure, but I can tell you that I won't be going within a 5-15 mile radius of them anytime soon. Wait, make that 1,000. 10,000. (Just to be safe.)

Jackassrock wails

How is it that a "singer" can record his tracks for an album. Then take said recording home. Then play it for friends, family, and the occasional drunken groupie, and NOBODY has the balls to tell him that he's consistantly flat.

I mean somebody in the band, or at least the person who records or produces the songs has to realize that the vocals are off. Why does nobody say anything?

This raises the question, How can you be a musician when you can't hear music ?

I can just imagine the studio engineer grimacing the whole time, then smiling and giving a big thumbs up when Doucheboy steps out of the vocal booth.

fufats falsettoed

The above song is called Stardust
"Stardust" starts off with an "arena" intro. I can picture the band discussing it: "Dude. When the intro plays, we'll be standing on a dark stage, heads bowed. The smoke machines will be billowing, and strobe blasts will go off during the 'can you read my mind?' bit that I stole from Margot Kidder in the first 'Superman' flick. It'll be awesome."

The song then kicks into the main riff, a retarded exercise that no real musician would ever use as the foundation for a song. Finally, we are "treated" to some of the most horrendous singing this side of Stephen Pearcy. Imagine an even more tone-deaf Kevin Dubrow trying to channel Udo Dirkschneider stricken with strep-throat, and you'll get a general idea.

The song stumbles through the verse and chorus a couple times before the guitar player "rips" into a solo demonstrating his grasp of various guitar effects.

We then return to the main festivities, as the "songwriter" was apparantly too bored, too stoned, or too stupid to write a bridge. However, instead of lyrics, the singer makes sounds like a tit sucking infant.

The above song is called "Twilight"
A collection of riffs and beats thrown against the wall like a bean burrito. Much like the burrito, an indecipherable mass of indistinct shit slides down the wall. Attempts to seperate beans from cheese from sour cream are impossible - it's all just one big lump of poo.

The above song is called "Amnesia"
If the flange was turned down, and the distortion a little less processed, this could be a Billy Squier or Sammy Hagar song. A bold, yet failed attempt to mask common early 80's butt rock as "modern metal" by inserting some digital noises and purtyin' up the guitar with a myriad of effects. You know what they say - you can dress up a white trash whore, but she's still a white trash whore.

mohillic closes out the festivities with this bon mot

Summary


Hey lets play some crap and call ourselves a band!

-the end.

We ran out of room for all the great commentary this week. Feel free to read the uncut, unedited version of the thread on the RRC forums here.

 

   
 

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