Jimmy Decay have the uncanny ability to, in at least certain cases, make the listener truly feel the emotions conveyed by their lyrics. For example, I will quote a passage from the song Sick with Belief:
I am, lost / ohhh. / all is lost / and all hope has gone / all is lost / and all hope has gone
And that is truly how this album managed to make me feel... and by track 5, no less!
Jimmy Decay's demo is testament to the fact that anyone can put out an album these days. Just loop some beats and preset synth patches, sample some guitars, vocalize into a cheap mic, and you're all set. Instant demo, to be adored (or ignored) by the masses; or fried by your not-so-friendly neighborhood music reviewer (complete with earache from shit-album overdose, and kung fu grip for pulling said shit-album from his CD player).
Stylistically, Jimmy Decay is one part industrial rock, one part trance and one part experimental electronic noodling, with none of these parts presenting any music that isn't an insult to their respective genres. Maybe, one day, this band will learn to compose something worth listening to (there are occasional brief moments that almost contain a kernel of promise, but these are few, far between and quickly marred by the inevitable onset of banality that permeates the entire demo), but that day has yet to come.
Then again, perhaps I'm just missing something here. Maybe I'm simply not avant-garde enough to appreciate such masterful art. I'm certainly not avant-garde enough to appreciate having two elephants clean their penii with my earlobes, but, truth be told, I'd be sorely tempted to undergo a session with the elephants if it was offered as an alternative to repeated applications of Jimmy Decay.
Of course, If you do not believe me, then feel free to help yourself to a steamy slab of Jimmy Decay. I certainly won't try to stop you, but don't say that you were not warned.
Post: Jimmy Decay, 23 Rapp Rd., Girardville, PA, 17935
Phone: (570) 276-1533