It’s called Candyman. And was recently released by multi-genre artist Justin ‡ Symbol, aka Daddy Star, whose Bandcamp page describes him as: “Gothic trap rock daddy from another galaxy.”
According to Justin ‡ Symbol, “On this album, I threw the rule book aside of what people think I am supposed to be. I took trap, metal, goth/industrial, witch house, and techno and threw it in a blender. All of my influences are present, and I am creating the album I would most want to hear. ‘Candy Man’ is the soundtrack to my version of the Apocalypse: it’s colorful, it’s sexual, it’s psychedelic, it’s dark and it’s fun at the same time. Why should the end of the world be boring?”
Encompassing 13-tracks, Candyman is absurdly awful. The kind of music — what I call “planarian hip-hip”[i] — that irresistibly recalls the Laocoön group, with Justin ‡ Symbol contorted against the coils of off-the-wall music, and the more earnest of his listeners likewise attempting to disengage themselves.
If that’s not enough, just moments ago Justin ‡ Symbol, aka Daddy Star, released the music video for one of the tracks, entitled “Trash Fire,” which utilizes rapid cuts, flames, bizarre visuals, and fiendish make-up to ostensibly shock and alarm viewers. Yet rather than horrify, it takes on aspects of burlesque and becomes side-splittingly humorous.
The album begins with “End Times,” a tune flavored with eerie sci-fi music from the ’50s riding a trap groove topped by harsh rasping incomprehensible vocals.
The worst track on the album is a toss-up between “Trash Fire” and the title track. Put simply, “Trash Fire” is layers of droning synths decorated with gleaming accents, supposedly spine-chilling, traveling on a thumping syncopated kick-drum, while Justin ‡ Symbol squawks out the lyrics.
“Bow down bitch! / I’m a motherfucking / Trash fire / Bow down! / To the God of Rage / You desired.”
But wait! “Candyman’s” opening line goes like this: “Candyman / Bitches call me Candyman / Candyman / Bitches call me Candyman / Candyman / Bitches call me Candyman / Say it three times, bitch / I’m the Candyman.”
While this eloquent wordplay is going on, the melody advances from light and glistening to death metal surges of guitars on a trap beat.
For all intents and purposes, the album is a mish-mash of contrived sounds of the most onerous type, resulting in, if not the worst album ever, certainly one of the top five most wretched albums ever produced.
[i] Planarian: a small flat worm whose digestive tract ends with its stomach so that it regurgitates what it eats.