LINT: IN THE POCKET

On a sunny day in May, this ordinary cactus man found a fly on the wall of a glacier. The fly pointed to a graveyard where the ordinary cactus man could play. So he went into the graveyard and broke a bunch of headstones. “That was fun,” said the man to the fly. “Yes,” replied the fly, “but you should see the ocean and listen there, because the water speaks.” So the man went from the graveyard to the ocean and the water spoke. It said, “What the shit do you want, you dirty, land-loving mammal? You just get away from me!” That was when the man realized that this was all very silly and he was done with it all. He went home. Maybe he would see a circus. Then the man remembered that he had a ticket to see a movie in the pocket of his jeans. But when he looked in the pocket all he found was a bunch of lint.
The above story was made up. I took all the names, in order, of the songs from the record titled, In the Pocket, by the band Lint, and made a little story out of it. You may be trying to figure out what the story has to do with the band and its sound. You may not care either way. Well, the story doesn’t have a goddamn thing to do with the band. Lint is a small band who sound like your typical Thursday night bar band. The kind where you have to pay a $3 cover charge and, when you get inside, you just wish you didn’t have to yell at your friends in order to have a conversation. The band is background noise reminiscent of Dave Matthews Band, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Godsmack and ten other pop favorites all smashed horribly together. I’m sorry. I said I would try to be nice about the review of this band because it was a favor to the brother of a friend who knows the guy who sings in the band. But I just can’t. It’s not that the music is all that bad. It’s just that it feels redundant and played out, with no heart and nothing unique about it. Look at it this way: at least you know when you read a CD review in tastes like chicken, you’re getting the real deal and not some glossed over, shined up turd of a favor for a friend of a friend of a friend who knows a guy who knows a guy in a band somewhere. But hey, what the fuck do I know? Check out Lint for yourself at their website.