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Editor's note: This was written by Jim Kippenber who - in previous articles - had shown himself not to be a Cowsill fan, so take as such.
Records have been coming out at a fast and furious rate over the past couple of weeks. Some have been pretty good. Most have been historically awful.
The hands-down winner of the title "Most ghastly album of the week - perhaps even season" would be the Cowsills' newest, "On My Side." It's on the London label. Someone had to record it.
It's just incredible the way the screeching harmonies hurt your ears. There aren't many like that left any more. No matter how low or high you go with the volume knob, those scratchy, semi-shrill, nearly developed voices pain your ears.
The vocals would be bad enough, but there's more. Even the back-up vocals scream at you. The guitar is played so shrilly, there is so little bass and so little of the other instruments, that it really can give you a headache.
In addition, the album sounds as if it were mixed by a total derelict whose only purpose was to subvert what little appeal the group had.
It's so bad, in fact, that listening to the Cowsills' milk commercials would be a welcome relief. Even the American Dairy Association would get chills at this dog.
Be careful. Avoid it like the plague. Buy the Lennon Sisters first. "On My Side" is that grotesque.
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