A Third Wish Granted, The Lost Art of Conversation: Vol. 1

If history has taught us anything, it’s that bad things come in threes. Billy Mays, Michael Jackson, and Farah Fawcett all died in the same week — in fact, they died within three days of one another. Coincidence, no. Cosmic law.

So I shouldn’t be surprised that A Third Wish Granted are as awful as they are. Not only have they decided to form a band consisting of a trio, but they have included a form of three in their name. They’re just asking for trouble with the latter. Can you actually think of a band that has some form of three in their name that you would want to see? 311? I’m not 12 anymore. Third Eye Blind? I’m not 14 anymore. Three Days Grace? Hell, no. If you’re still reading this, then let’s continue.

First, the promotional material is the biggest fabrication I’ve ever read. Sure, these things are meant to build up the band, but at least say something truthful. The material claims the band has “a distinct Arabian flavor” and an “in your face sound that’s in the vein of Queen and Foo Fighters…” Lies. Outside of a few lyrics in Arabic and what can only be described as the half-assed fake oboe/mizmar/electric saxophone instrumentals on “Paranoia’s Alter,” nothing sounds Middle Eastern, not even with a stereotypical Arabic sound. Considering that System Of A Down have a deeper “Arabic” sound but are Armenian, A Third Wish Granted are a huge disappointment in the “ethnic sound” department.

So, Queen and Foo Fighters? This should be huge arena rock? Not quite. No fist-pumping guitar riffs or mind-blowing solos here; instead, we suffer through the straight-laced and soulless drumming of Erik Kreft, accompanied by the generic and over-distorted strumming of Jesse DeSanto. Even worse, instead of the operatic vocals of the great Freddie Mercury or the edge of Dave Grohl, we get the reject boy-band vocals of Mr. Alaeddin, whose poppy style is exemplified in the overly sappy and pathetic “Dearly Departed.”

There is just so little to like about this CD — even the cover art looks like the doodlings of a bored high school student who can’t be bothered put in a good effort for this band. It might be cliché to say, but hey, this is a cliché band: the best thing about this CD is that it’s only six tracks long and ends quickly.

So why does this band exist? Does the Buzz need more garbage? Possibly. My guess is that these guys must be in it for the ladies. The generic alternative sound? The awful love songs? Cut-off shirts and douchebag tribal tattoos? Sounds like pure shit to me. Chicks dig that?