Cobra Starship - While The City Sleeps, We Rule The Streets
Don't be suckered into any ideas that Cobra Starship, ex Midtown bass player Gabe Saporta's new cash cow, are signed to Fall Out Boy's label Fueled By Ramen because they are the next best thing to happen to emo kids looking for something new to latch onto, oh most definitely not! Probability suggests Saporta said something like "I wanna put disco with electric guitars!" and the lads at FBR creamed thinking it was going to go well, when in actuality Cobra Starship sound like Ricky Martin trying to be in an 80s hair metal band, it's seriously messed up in a really bad way.
For those who aren't particularly familiar with Cobra Starship's 'immense' back catalogue, ahem, they did that song 'Bring It (Snakes On A Plane)' that no one liked, for that movie where snakes bite people's penises, a feeling somewhat akin to listening to this album. 'While The City Sleeps, We Rule The Streets' kicks off with a faux lo-fi acoustic track that deliberately tries to re create that whole heartfelt dark side of the soul feeling that is a popular album kick-starter with emo-esque bands looking to show another 'sensitive side' whereas 'Being From Jersey Means You Never Have To Say You're Sorry' just comes across as an Aqualung rip off that doesn't add anything here. Slightly promising (at first) track 'Send My Love To The Dancefloor...' has some ok moments in the form of heavy guitars backed by a drum machine that stirs up a little interest and maybe the odd foot tap, yet it all goes down hill when classic lyrics such as "Hey Mr DJ / put a record on / we're gonna bury this town tonight / we're gonna dance all night" are penned and therefore sound like a Madonna / Britney b-side thus having the same nauseating effect no-less. Horrible track after horrible track, 'While The City Sleeps...' has absolutely no redeeming qualities, as an album that will achieve no musical recognition nor get anyone over the age of 12 interested, it's rancid disco fused, drum looped, pseudo emo direction complete with contrived ballad half way through in the form of 'The Kids Are All F***ed Up' giving nod to the formulaic pop album pre requisites will surely be forgotten within a month after everyone who was silly enough to buy it for their kid sister uses the album as a beer coaster. It is an attempt at a party album by a guy who blatantly takes himself far too seriously as a musician and writer, yet doesn't seem to realise that shouting "Do You Feel Alright" twelve times whilst a Jennifer Lopez break beat threatens to come around the corner is not what any person in their right mind is going to want to listen to.
An album that would have had a chance if the likes of Har Mar Superstar got his greasy fat hands on it, as he, unlike Saporta, has the panache and tongue-in-cheek factor to get away with such an absolutely horrid album as this. Don't be fooled by their signing to one of the most exciting labels going, Cobra Starship are a blemish on the face of Fueled By Ramen.
Don't be suckered into any ideas that Cobra Starship, ex Midtown bass player Gabe Saporta's new cash cow, are signed to Fall Out Boy's label Fueled By Ramen because they are the next best thing to happen to emo kids looking for something new to latch onto, oh most definitely not! Probability suggests Saporta said something like "I wanna put disco with electric guitars!" and the lads at FBR creamed thinking it was going to go well, when in actuality Cobra Starship sound like Ricky Martin trying to be in an 80s hair metal band, it's seriously messed up in a really bad way.
For those who aren't particularly familiar with Cobra Starship's 'immense' back catalogue, ahem, they did that song 'Bring It (Snakes On A Plane)' that no one liked, for that movie where snakes bite people's penises, a feeling somewhat akin to listening to this album. 'While The City Sleeps, We Rule The Streets' kicks off with a faux lo-fi acoustic track that deliberately tries to re create that whole heartfelt dark side of the soul feeling that is a popular album kick-starter with emo-esque bands looking to show another 'sensitive side' whereas 'Being From Jersey Means You Never Have To Say You're Sorry' just comes across as an Aqualung rip off that doesn't add anything here. Slightly promising (at first) track 'Send My Love To The Dancefloor...' has some ok moments in the form of heavy guitars backed by a drum machine that stirs up a little interest and maybe the odd foot tap, yet it all goes down hill when classic lyrics such as "Hey Mr DJ / put a record on / we're gonna bury this town tonight / we're gonna dance all night" are penned and therefore sound like a Madonna / Britney b-side thus having the same nauseating effect no-less. Horrible track after horrible track, 'While The City Sleeps...' has absolutely no redeeming qualities, as an album that will achieve no musical recognition nor get anyone over the age of 12 interested, it's rancid disco fused, drum looped, pseudo emo direction complete with contrived ballad half way through in the form of 'The Kids Are All F***ed Up' giving nod to the formulaic pop album pre requisites will surely be forgotten within a month after everyone who was silly enough to buy it for their kid sister uses the album as a beer coaster. It is an attempt at a party album by a guy who blatantly takes himself far too seriously as a musician and writer, yet doesn't seem to realise that shouting "Do You Feel Alright" twelve times whilst a Jennifer Lopez break beat threatens to come around the corner is not what any person in their right mind is going to want to listen to.
An album that would have had a chance if the likes of Har Mar Superstar got his greasy fat hands on it, as he, unlike Saporta, has the panache and tongue-in-cheek factor to get away with such an absolutely horrid album as this. Don't be fooled by their signing to one of the most exciting labels going, Cobra Starship are a blemish on the face of Fueled By Ramen.
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