More proof that good music died with Cobain: The worst albums of 2000

By C.D. Hoard

Daily Arts Writer

Some albums are so popular or well-respected that they'll never be forgotten, some simply fade into obscurity, and some are so bad that it's probably better that we not remember them.

And then there are those records that have carved out a place for themselves in the annals of rock history solely by virtue of their overwhelming awfulness. Anyone who's ever come across a copy of Atilla's self-titled record (widely considered to be the worst rock album of all time) or shouted along with the chorus to Poison's "Nothin' But a Good Time" knows that only a select few records can achieve the perverse sort of greatness that comes with sucking royally.

Like any other year, 2000 had its fair share of bad records, from collections of half-baked tunes thrown together in hopes of making a buck or reclaiming past glory to discs that were simply the product of someone's seriously skewed artistic vision. In the spirit of celebrating the truly terrible, here are my picks for last year's 10 worst.

10) Marvelous 3, Readysexgo

Just when you thought the hair-band sound was permanently relegated to Best of the Eighties collections and episodes of "Behind the Music," we have Readysexgo, on which the Atlanta-based Marvelous 3 dish out 13 songs full of stupid, jokey rhymes and giant choruses shamelessly copped from Def Leppard and Motley Crue albums. It's supposed to be both funny and fun, I think, but it's just really stupid - and not the wholesome, "pop" kind of stupid, but stupid like that guy who yells out "Freebird!" at a concert.

9) Pink Floyd, Is There Anybody Out There? The Wall Live 1980-81

It's hard to rip on Is There Anybody Out There? The Wall Live 1980-81 without implicitly bad-mouthing The Wall, Pink Floyd's epic 1980 double-album. Though it was recorded live during the tour that followed The Wall's release, Is There Anybody Out There? is, by and large, a note-for-note remake of the studio version of the record, right down to David Gilmour's refined guitar solos and Roger Waters' slightly-discordant vocals. The real appeal of seeing The Wall performed live had a lot to do with the show's stunning visual impact, which, unfortunately, doesn't translate too well to a CD. As such, hardcore Floydians might appreciate Is There Anybody Out There's very subtly nuanced performances, but it's equally true that less zealous fans were no doubt duped into forking over $15 bucks for a disc that, more or less, they already owned.

8) Tag Team, The Best Of Tag Team

Quick: Name your two favorite Tag Team songs. Props to anyone able to come up with something besides "Whoomp! (There It Is)," the one and only hit these party music playas ever scored - unless, of course, you count "Addams Family (Whoomp)" and "Bulls! There It Is," which was for the 1993 Chicago b-ballers what "U Can't Touch This" was for the 1990 Detroit Pistons. And speaking of "U Can't Touch This," if Tag Team can put out this best-of collection, Hammer's greatest hits package can't be far behind.

7) Aaron Carter, Aaron's Party (Come Get It)

Aaron's Party (Come Get It) might not at first seem to be any worse than any other of the teen pop that clogged the airwaves during 2000 - until you consider that the kid is 12 years old and probably hasn't even had a sex-ed class yet, whereas Britney, Christina et. al. are at least old enough to appear in the dirty fantasies of normal people, as opposed to, say, pedophiles and other weirdos. At his age, Carter ought to be paying his dues on "The Mickey Mouse Club" or "Star Search," not putting out a record with an alarmingly suggestive title and a cover of Bow Wow Wow's "I Want Candy." Let's just hope he's talking about real candy, not the metaphorical sort.

6) Firehouse, 02

Remember Firehouse? Although it sounds as though O2 catches these veteran hair-rockers at their nadir, they might just be a good deal smarter than we would at first give them credit for. After all, 02 sounds enough like the Firehouse of old (exactly like the Firehouse of old, in fact) to appeal to anyone whose eyes went misty when "Love of a Lifetime" came on the air - as well as pop culture-loving smartasses like me who put together these "Worst Records of the Year" lists.

5) Jeff Bridges, Be Here Soon

Even if renowned actor Jeff Bridges could sing - and he can't - Be Here Soon would be a pretty awful record, as evidenced by lite-rock duds like "Buddha & Christ at Large" and the ultra-cheesy "She Lay Her Whip Down," which sounds something like Michael Bolton covering the Band's "We Can Talk" while doing a mush-mouthed Peabo Bryson impression. It's enough to make Keanu Reeves' band (which also released a pretty awful record this year) sound like the frigging Beatles.

4) Various Artists, Cha-Cha Slide

Really more of an excuse to market a single than an honest-to-goodness record, Cha-Cha Slide was rushed out by Universal Records when the record's title track spawned a minor dance craze last summer. Having been dreamt up by a fitness trainer named Casper (who sang lead on the studio version of the track) as fodder for his workouts, the "Cha-Cha Slide" itself had utilitarian beginnings, which didn't prevent the Universal execs from trying to turn it into the next "Macarena." Needless to say, the popular reception of both the "Cha-Cha Slide" and the seven other tunes that were tossed onto this disc was a tad underwhelming.

3) A*Teens, The ABBA Generation

Just in case you couldn't handle the "mature" sound of these dance-floor classics as made famous by the adult members of ABBA, these Swedish teenagers have re-recorded them for you, more or less matching the originals note-for-note while adding a heavy dose of pubescent cutesiness. It just goes to show you: These days, a good pop tune isn't really a good pop tune unless it's recorded by someone who just got their learner's permit.

2) Fozzy, Fozzy

One of the few records on this list whose awfulness might have been intended (or at least expected) by its creators, Fozzy is probably the comedy album of the year. Fozzy are fronted by WWF wrestler Chris Jericho, and if that doesn't tell you all you need to know about the music, the yarn told in the liner notes, which are supposedly written by a magazine editor named "Shoji Mochizuki," should suffice: Having found that the only way to escape a raw record deal was to leave the States, the group spent 20 years in Japan, where they wowed audiences, made timeless records and became "like Emperors." After catching wind that every pop-metal superstar from Ozzy to Skid Row had ripped off their material, Fozzy returned stateside and now hopes to claim their rightful position as the kings of the genre that's been declining in popularity for the past decade. Just think of this as "Spinal Tap: The Next Generation."

1) Yngwie Malmsteen, War to End All Wars

Malmsteen, who is best known as the virtuoso guitarist with the funny name, is apparently under the impression that it's 1976. Either that or War to End All Wars is the finest Iron Maiden / Rush tribute album ever made, what with the cover shot of two medieval dudes battling in some dungeon basement, song titles like "Arpeggios From Hell," a vocalist screeching lyrics like "Climb up the mountain that reaches the sky / Up there there's a tower a thousand miles high" and the guitar pyrotechnics of Malmsteen, who wanks so much that he's in danger of pulling his you-know-what out of socket.

Courtesy of BMG/Jive

Come get it? Come get your beating, you little punk! The fact that you didn't write any of the songs doesn't excuse you from releasing the seventh worst album of 2000.