Make it Stop: A Bad Music Podcast

MMM MMMM MMMM...nah. The world was briefly captivated in the early 90s by Brad Roberts' low, smoldering baritone and his band of eccentric Canadian rockers the Crash Test Dummies. The one hit hit hard, but after a string of sloppy follow ups, the Dummies were in the doldrums by the time 1999's Give Yourself A Hand rolled around. To switch things up they decided to have Roberts sing in a falsetto and let keyboardist Ellen Reid play lead on a few songs for some reason - though those tracks provide the only bright spots in an otherwise chaotically awful album. No wonder their label dropped them after sharting out miserable musical monstrosities like "I Want Your Goo". Getting into the goo with us is none other than legendary Boston Rock Goddess Mistress Carrie of the Mistress Carrie Podcast and formerly of 107.3 WAAF (rest in peace), who does her best to honor the artistic intent while also eviscerating their bleating boring bullshit. It's a heck of an episode folks, and it's MMM MMM bad. Enjoy!

Make It Stop and Mistress Carrie Podcast are part of Pantheon Podcasts

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We're killing our Idols this week as we surf the circuits of cyber hell with none other than Billy Idol, who in 1993 was an aging "punk" desperately clinging to relevance while soaked in a haze of club drugs and heroin. But the drug called The Internet became the most addictive of all as he lazily skimmed Neuromancer and decided he was the ultimate authority on the emergent cyberpunk culture, to the point of audaciously making it the title of his album. Orchestra hits, sexy spoken word, sitars and self indulgent interludes abound on this 20 track digital disaster, though we have a blast surfing through the cybersludge with guest Manny Raposo who helps us contextualize this virtual insanity. Does it work? Not in the slightest, but it's also a hell of a fun ride.

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We're reaching, and retching this week as we take a deep dive into Jack White's version of a musical midlife crisis, 2018's Boarding House Reach. Vocoder, hot topic spoken word poetry and RAPPING all make an appearance on this bloated collection of song stems, incoherent rambles, and riffless meandering sonic slogs that sound like the last gasps of a former musical genius. Most damning of all is the fact that more than half the songs aren't even songs at all - a far cry from the tight, furtive garage rock of Mr. White's heyday. It's sure to disappoint you as much as it did us, so reach around and hold on tight. It's bound to be a bumpy ride.

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All bad things must come to an end, and so we must say goodbye to this year's M-M-M-M-MARCH BADNESS. But before we can finally rid ourselves of this curse, a winner must be crowned. It's a true Cinderella Story this year, as the 6 seed Twenty One Pilots defied all odds, making it all the way to the finals to take on the 1 seed Chainsmokers. It's Blurryface vs Memories... Do Not Open, two albums considered by many to be the worst that the 2010s have to offer. Lethargic broDM, modern reggae rippity-rapping, all the worst aspects of millennial music is on display in this breathtaking finale. Mike and Heather are joined by friend of the pod, man about town, and unflappable sports expert Garvey Salomon. The debate is lively, the music is dreadful, but there can only be one winner! Whose tunes will shoot for the moon? Whose compositions will win the competition? Whose album will determine the outcome? FIND OUT TODAY ON THE M-M-M-M-MARCH BADNESS FINALE! Part of the Pantheon Podcast Network.

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It's a bad, bad world Stoppies, and tonight's gonna be a long night as we go head to head with some of the most godawful garbage we've ever had to haul on this dumb, tragic show. Longtime besties and very funny friends Brian and Julez hold our hands as we wade through the muck of the legendarily insufferable Will.i.am whose dumb dumb drivel about girls' Donques nearly drives us off a cliff, but will it be enough to surmount the self-satisfied, homeschooled Christian theater kid sad sack jazz-rap of 21 Pilots? It's a race to the bottom once again, and at least we're enjoying the ride. All aboard, stoppies! This one's worth the trip. Part of Pantheon Podcasts.

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Things are heating up as March Badness moves into the S-S-SEMI FINALS. Rippity rappity reggaety rockity 311 adds dubstep and Imagine Dragons-style indie to their bloated repertoir on 2019's Voyager, and that album goes head to head with the massively maligned one seed Chainsmokers' dashed off and cast aside nothing-album Sick Boy (2018). It is a HEATED battle this week, Stoppies, as we are joined by our dear friends Maggie and Ashleigh from the Rock Candy Podcast. Don't miss the spectacle, the passion, the joy of victory, the agony of defeat, the grinding misery of having to listen to all these awful albums for the entire month of March. We hate our lives! M-M-M-MARCH BADNESSSSSSSSSS.

This show is a part of Pantheon Podcasts.

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On Make it Stop we continue to hone in on a central thesis of bad music - that no matter the genre, no matter the age or era, all bad music begins to flow together into the same swirling cesspool of shit. Nowhere is this more apparent than in tonight's episode of March Badness pitting whiny wine mom fantasy husband Pat Monahan and his band Train against nu-indie-rap-emo-Christian-rock disasters Twenty One Pilots. There exists a synchronicity of sanctimonious and deeply inane drivel so intense that there are several points in which the tracks blend seamlessly into one another, one ukelele riff at a time, synthetic hand clap in hand clap. Joining us on this doomed journey is returning guest and Boston comedian Nick Ortolani, who almost fully cracks as we deep dive into the shallow crevices of these cursed albums. It's a race to the bottom as we duke it out song by song to see which terrible white men are the least worst, and you'll be tearing your hair out till the very end. This is not a Drive By, stoppies. We're just shy guys, looking for a two-ply Hefty bag to hold our love. Part of the Pantheon Podcast Network.

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It's that time yet again, Stoppies. M-M-M-MARCH B-B-B-BADNESSSSSSSS. Our annual tournament to determine the worst of the worst is back, and it's time for six elite-level awful musical acts to duke it out for the trophy (we should have a trophy, huh). The first match of the Preliminary Round pits Western Mass's own constipated sad dads Staind against the funkiest white boys from Nebraska, 311. As they go blow for blow we are joined by dear friend and Worcester legend Shane Hall AKA Messiah Carey, who brings fantastic insight, making the Staind-to-Honkyball connection we never knew we needed. Who will emerge victorious? Whose tunes will reign inferior? Find out on Make It Stop's World of Sports Presents: March Badness: Part Deux! Part of the Pantheon Podcast Network.

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They were the only band that mattered, but by 1985 they were in tatters. The Clash's swan song Cut The Crap is infamous in the music world, regarded by some as the worst album ever made. Having split with co-frontman and primary songwriter Mick Jones, Joe Strummer soldiered on with a few savvy studio musicians and his egomaniacal manager Bernard Rhodes. Together they set out to prove that they didn't need no Mick Jones and they could do it all themselves. Laden with studio trickery, drum machines, and 40 layers of identical sounding buzzsaw Les Pauls, the album is truly a chore to listen to, an all-time misfire from one of the greats. Mike and Heather are joined by Brandon, Meagan and Jack from Time and Place, because we knew they loved The Clash and we wanted to traumatize them. Fingerpop!

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In 1994 three meth addled young punks from Oakland released an album that changed the musical landscape for decades, building the bridge that shepherded California pop punk from the fringes to the mainstream. 26 years and 10 albums later as, presumably, meth addled old punks, they released an album that changed nothing but the minds of longtime fans holding out one last hope for a return to form, shepherding soulless hockey anthems from the pro tools interface to the rink to the graveyard. Green Day’s Father of All Motherfuckers was an easy pick for our worst of 2020 list, and as lifelong Green Day apologists we figured it warranted a deep dive. We’re joined by friend of the show and ska trumpeter Ben Stein. The album clocks in at a paltry 26 minutes, but it packs enough nostalgia-shattering trauma over that span to make basket cases of us all.

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