This is bad time of year for record releases. In the next week or two, we’ll start getting all the good stuff that they want to sneak in before the September 3oth Grammy deadline, and then it’ll be the run-up to Christmas. In the meantime, somebody needs to make fun of the records that got dumped on the market in the summer while nobody was looking. A few of these are really rather good. The others? Not so much.

He had made some bad decisions in life, but he understood now that this was something he had to do.

It would be their private joke. Nobody would guess what he was really doing.

He was dying on the inside.

He’d found it surprisingly difficult to adjust to life above ground.

In retrospect, the photo shoot’s Titanic theme would have worked much better if they’d had the budget for a boat.

People didn’t take him seriously as an interpreter of Bach’s music. He was convinced this had something to do with his famously effervescent demeanor.

He desperately wanted to be respected as an artist, but he was prepared to use his looks to get there if that’s what it took.

He should never have told told him how he felt. There was no putting that genie back in the bottle.

They hadn’t actually photoshopped in a sombrero, a taco truck or a home depot parking lot, so that was something, she supposed.

He had made a record that was luscious, pristine, and edited to an unattainable level of perfection. They had pretty much done the same with his eyebrows.