I was planning on only reviewing this band’s photo, but the image came with the rest of that nonsense on the side, and I can’t just move on without saying a little about the moniker Cry Excess.

Because are you saying you have a fucking overabundance of cry? I know tearing apart a band’s name is about as cheap as you can get, but seriously, say it out loud. Then say it out loud as if someone asked what band you’re in, feeling yourself wince like you just sipped your own pee. As far as thoughtful names go, that is some true Mrs. Doubtfire, mad-scramble-during-a-phone-interview kind of foresight.

But let’s check out the four people who greenlit that thing. Front and center we have the only guy ballsy enough in the band to get a tattoo, and you can see he’s overcompensated to the point where it looks like he inked in a modest teen moustache to tie it all together.

Then you have this long-limbed fella thinking, “I’m gonna flip off the camera. That’ll finally show mom.” But little does he know that his bandmate has gone the extra mile of throwing up two birds. And not only that, but he’s doing it with a sensitive look on his face, as if to say, “Girl, I’m doing bad boy stuff, but someone like you can change me. I brought a jacket tied around my waist cause you’re lookin’ all cold and shit.”

I have to assume the guy in the top left… I’ve actually been staring at his hand long enough it looks like some sort of optical illusion. I thought he was making a “C” shape, for “Cry, motherfuckers!” But the way his wrist is turned, it’s just confusing as hell. If you can get a mangled claw from playing too many breakdowns, I think my man here has it.

And of course there’s the one guy trying to hug himself invisible, but can we discuss the record title or slogan or whatever they have, “Ambition is the Shit”? Like, I get that being ambitious is necessary, that there are far too many talented people who don’t apply themselves or take risks or ever really try and showcase their talents. And it’s a shame.

But with that said, ambition is literally the only thing that propels bands like this. They get up every morning wanting to take the world on and have chosen the easiest path to gaining fans and selling a few records. It’s why they make sure to tear their jeans correctly and mull over what size brass knuckles should adorn their dimwitted logo.

Now, it’s not getting worse. Temporary fame has always been set aside mostly for those who would rather autograph cleavage than create something of real value. But it is true that while hidden gems are far more obtainable nowadays, bands like this can now cast an even wider net, snagging the undeserved attention from a greater undiscerning audience. 

And if that doesn’t give you an overabundance of cry, I don’t know what will.