Listen for the superficial aggression of "Deeply Astonished" next time you go in for a root canal. When the singer sings about growing up listening to Rush, the result is purely radio-fodder. In 1989, this band was sitting on top of the world. Now they're merely disposable. Even the Black Sabbath-inspired production by Brian Eno, and a steady supply of angst can't save Live at Red Rocks, envisioned as a song cycle about death row and strange women uttering strange truths.

Do these guys really need more money?

On the torturous live bonus track "So Close," DeSong sounds like they're having a great time, unlike the audience.

DeSong is not so much of a band, but an exercise in marketing. Singing about the group confronting its demons in the headbanging "Spandex Woman," the singer sounds like he's having about as much fun as a dying hyena. Why do I even bother reviewing albums like this?

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Our readers respond

Dear Robot,

Your review of DeSong was dead wrong. Sometimes you just have to enjoy a good rock album for what it is. Live at Red Rocks is the record of the year. Your magazine sucks.

DeSong forever,

-- DeSong fan