Transformers Soundtrack: The Non-Review

The cold, unyielding, mechanical eyes of the marketing machine.

I reviewed the album accompaniment to the new Transformers movie over on ZME. I say “reviewed” – what I really mean is I pointed at it and mocked it mercilessly, then said something overwrought about how it’s not really an album. Good stuff all around.

I would love to give this CD a horrible review. I’d really, genuinely enjoy ripping apart its poxy devotion to dated post-grunge sludge rock. Or better yet, going on a bloodthirsty, rampaging rant about how the Transformers franchise as a whole has gone from being a treasured reminder of an entire generation’s youth to encapsulating everything that’s wrong with modern cinema (”Cars! Robots! ‘Splodes! Wait, where brain go?”) It would be easy – not to mention fun – to tear down, to mock, to deride this soundtrack: it’s the soundtrack to a couple million overgrown children literally wetting themselves over Optimus Prime. Idiots.

I could, for example, point out that Nickelback appear on this soundtrack. Forget how singularly awful, soul-destroying and suicide-inducing the band’s albums are, and instead notice that they appear on the soundtrack to every sub-par summer blockbuster, dating back as far as 2003’s Daredevil. Although at least on that soundtrack, all they did was slaughter an Elton John classic – here, Chad Kroeger infests the album with his own particular brand of empty-headed, poseur ass-ery. I’m not a big proponent of the word “douche-horse”, but whatever image the word conjures up for you, Kroeger undoubtedly defines it. (Actually, I lied a little there – I love the word “douche-horse”.) But no! That’s not important. Not now.

And yes: I’m bringing the word “douche-horse” into my work now. Thanks Straub! Thaub! (Taub?)


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