Jason Indorato 10/19/21 Jason Indorato 10/19/21

In Review: Artvertisement by Darrin Bradbury

by: Heracleatus

Darrin Bradbury’s recent Artvertisement LP represents everything wrong with today’s tech-suckling, haste-drunk, “hip” youth culture—what with their Myspace, AOL Instant Messenger, and Baha Men CDs. It illustrates that the very same generation which prides itself on its cerebral collectivism and which so oft decries the dehumanizing shackles of modern consumerism—all while bathed in the sleek LED glow of the most recent Apple™ product—is also tediously susceptible to careless lapses in sin tacks. This, of course, only proves to undercut the seriousness with which one can be expected to assess their insertions. That being said, I, of course, am neither an enemy of progress nor modernity. (Trust me, I watched the Britney Spears documentary on Hulu.) No, I have but one cruelty-free bone to pick, and it is with POUR SPELLING. For as we now find ourselves in the age of autocorrect, “lol,” and strangers sending me eggplant emojis for some reason, we must hold ourselves to a higher standard! In short, kids these days lack the gumption!

Bandcamp Link:

https://darrinbradbury.bandcamp.com/album/artvertisement

Full disclosure: I have no idea what gumption means, but it sounds like the type of thing an old coot would say, and I’m too busy untangling my hose to spray at loitering neighborhood kids to ask Siri.

Herein lies the rub with Mr. Bradbury’s most recent offering. First, let’s get one thing straight: From the moment I lit my DW Homes Sandalwood candle, cracked open my Pamplemousse La Croix, and turned on Artvertisment on my Spotify Premium account—which offers unlimited skips, ad-free listening, and the ability to download songs for offline listening at the low, low cost of $9.99/month (Be sure to mention Bohemian Oatmeal in the How did you hear about us? box. I don’t think it does anything, but it makes us sound official when we put our brand and their brand together.)—I was absolutely floored. Frankly, for much of the record, it felt as if the raw, probing humanity of John Prine and the frenetic, pop-culture-infused existentialism of David Foster Wallace had given birth to a witty yet apathetic child who founded Pavement. (TL;DR: It’s tasty.)

Perhaps the most perfect summation I could give of the record’s overall effect comes from Bradbury himself in the tune “Deanna, Deanna,” where he croons, “And we both laughed a little in a way that kinda felt like crying.” In just under 28 minutes, Bradbury, along with co-producers and bandmates Preston Cochran, Scottie Prudhoe, and Ryan Sobb, took me on a sort of postmodern, manic-depressive odyssey that adeptly paired moments of feverish, plebeian satire with sobering philosophical truths into one hilarious yet melancholy whole.

…But that’s when I saw it…

I was so caught off guard by the depth and nuance of this record that I had one of the aforementioned loitering neighbor kids come and help me unlock my iPhone so that I could give the album cover a better look. “Ah, Advertisement by Darrin Bradbury. How nice—wait a second.” *adjusts glasses…broils with rage* HE MISPELLED ADVERTISEMENT!” I began uncontrollably retching at the mere thought of this oversight.

You mean to tell me that Bradbury, alongside some of Nashville’s most brilliant, burgeoning talents, managed to put together an intricate and astounding work of art and FORGOT TO SPELL-CHECK THE TITLE OF THE ALBUM!?! Not one single person had the integrity—nay! the decency!—to see the product through to its proper finish. This is exactly what’s wrong with today’s younger generations. Oh, autocorrect didn’t work on Photoshop? (Yes, I know what Photoshop is.) I mean, seriously. You want to feel good about handing the torch off to the great minds of tomorrow, and you can’t even trust them to know how to spell advertisement correctly. I feel like I’m taking crazy pills** here. I feel my blood pressure rising just typing this. Admittedly, it may have been the Cracker Barrel I ate. I love their food, but it just doesn’t sit with me the way that it used to—maybe it’s the sodium content? Anyway, Advertisement* by Darrin Bradbury is exactly what’s wrong with the world. Abysmal failure. The End.

Wait, what’s that? He meant to spell it that way? …He…oh! Art-vertisement—like “art” mixed with “advertisement.” It’s almost as if it was intended as a statement about the utter subjugation of artistic expression by the money-grubbing tentacles of consumerism, or maybe it’s just clever. Either way, that’s actually pretty genius…

Well then, *clears throat* Artvertisement by Darwin Birdbarry is Bohemian-Oatmeal-Certified Tasty.