1.5 ★/3.0 - 3.9Wisdom teeth. Male nipples. Tonsils. Fortune cookies. Spam email. Gossip. The National Enquirer. Silly Putty. Reality television. Antique Roadshow. North Dakota. Paris Hilton. Livejournal. Myspace. Internet Memes. 80% of the internet, for that matter. Chopsticks. Golf. The Grammy Awards. Infomercials. Wonder Bread. Watching paint dry. Miss Cleo. Any one of those "world's largest... whatever" sites that are usually in the middle of nowhere. Tay Zonday. American Idol. William Hung. Pre-ripped pants. Puff Daddy's constant name changes. Boy Bands. Stamp collections. Breakfast burritos. Steven Seagal movies. The color, beige. Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. This guy.
And now, I would like to congratulate Pink Floyd, for their latest addition into the Hall of Tame; a collection of some of the most useless, pointless and straight-up boring things in the world! I'm not talking about that pesky "exciting" and "fascinating" live disc; heavens no! I'm strictly dealing with the strikingly bland studio material of Ummagumma. Not even David Gilmour's attempts at sabotage, with lush contributions and interesting musical textures, were able to derail the listlessness and apathy that the bulk of this album inspired. Ranging from animal noises to completely emotionless droning sounds, the second disc of Ummagumma has always been the subject of intense debate. But we on the National Board of Boredom hope that it's inclusion into the Hall of Tame will hopefully allow everyone to recognize this collection of aimless instrumental meandering and found sounds for what it really is:
a hollow, soulless piece of shit. You've been warned.
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