A nice enough start to what will likely be a decent MOR career, but for the love of Bono, what's with rock and pop stars—Aimee Mann, Evanescense, too many others to list—expecting some higher power to simplify their charmed lives?
We're meant to infer, I guess, that the band name is actually what happens once the protagonist pays his ex and her new beau a visit. Get ready to hear this one in trailers for rom-coms you've no interest in watching.
I wish I could figure out how to feel about these Saddle Creek-signed upstarts, what with their typographical-disaster handle, cuckoo-clucky lady singer, and DNA-vs.-Deerhoof approach to art rock. Laud or shrug? Gotta sleep on it, but resurrecting '40s/'50s eff-Japan slang to hoist their flag ain't a plus—regardless of whatever nationalities are represented within their ranks.
So Sara's totally pissed at Zak, because Stacy told her that Jenny Smith peeped Zak locking lips with Jeanette in the women's section of Macy's. Sara's all, "It's over, you're such an asshole, I hope your Escort gets keyed!" And Zak's like, dude. I'm so screwed, this sucks, Sara's bangin'! And if she jets, I won't have a date for prom! So Zak calls the local radio DJ to dedicate a song to Sara, because he's mad sorry and knows that Sara tunes in every night at 7; he won't request "Fight for Love" (maybe "More Than Words" or something by Chicago) because it's only 1993. Which is all just a convoluted way of saying that Elliott Yamin was born a couple of years too late.
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