I will cut my wrists, black my eyes, AND throw myself in front of an oncoming roundhouse from Chuck Norris if I ever again am subjected to some godforsaken band that takes the sound of Hawthorne Heights, and makes it worse. Yeah, imagine that. Can't? Dear Forever will make sure you're in luck with the 25-minute atrocity Sound the Trumpet.

If I honestly took time to talk about everything wrong with this record, I could turn it into a dissertation, but nobody wants to read 100,000 words on their favorite band, let alone one this utterly insulting, so I'll keep it short. They definitely graduated, likely with honors, from the Hawthorne Heights School of Downright Awful Vocal Delivery. Neither the "singer" or screamer can hit a note or keep a pace to save their lives, so not only does it make for awkward attempts at melody and contrast, but it really damages any hope the band had for cohesive song structures in the first place. The singing is so far off key that it's nearly unintelligible, and for reasons which I do not have the capacity to grasp, he still, without fail, attempts to hit high and difficult notes, and draw them out for as long as possible. The screaming doesn't fare any better at all, and very well may rank as the worst I have ever heard in my life.

But what's bad singing and screaming without the lyrics to match? Don't you worry, Dear Whoever deliver there as well:

I am screaming, can you hear me? Blood is dripping, nails are piercing / Thorns are ripping, ripping through. I read the tragedy / It comes to me in bloody…broken dreams.

It seems as if another band broke into my room at night, and stole nothing but a notebook containing lyrics I wrote in seventh grade. Only it seems they've taken some liberties, and actually made the songs worse than they originally were. Not that anyone really should have the tolerance to listen for individual lyrics, when the horrendous arrangement of guitar, bass and drums are going. The guitar work is downright weak, the bass non-existent, and the drumming rudimentary at best. These guys don't have the foggiest of a clue on basic song structure or chord progressions. Everything that young musicians learned in high school theory classes, these guys skipped.

Had I heard this "album" before I made my year-end list, it would by far and away take the crown as the biggest pile of garbage that made it through my ear canals this year. Congratulations, guys, you're in a class all your own.