Sometimes there is this internal struggle that exists between being nice and being honest. Well, I’ve decided to be nice and honest.

The Little Ginger Club Kid is terrible. I gave the album multiple chances in different situations (driving, painting, rock climbing, juggling flaming chinchillas, etc.), and the verdict was always the same: It’s an album only suitable for deaf people.

Actually, I take that back... kind of. This album, with its straightforward, generic techno-pop beats, would be acceptable in a low-rent dance club atmosphere, I guess.

Come to think of it, the mental image of a writhing mass of sweaty, scantily clad club girls rubbing up against one another to the monotonous beats is what helped me struggle through this polished turd.