Chris 'Quit Bawlin' Coronary sounds like a failed Rock Star reality show contender, trotting out all the cliched rawk gawd mannerisms that made Audioslave such an embarrassment to anyone who thought he was kinda neat back when he was breaking rusty cages and running. Alternately, he lapses into that sullen monotone that he imagines is sulky and sultry and has been marring his back catalogue with ever since Down Up The Backside or whatever that last Soundgarden album, the one with all the ballads and this one really fast Kim Thayil song, was called. Finally, he has this Michael Jackson-esque squeal that he's allowed Timbaland to record and use as a repeated sample in some of the material here. Sometimes Timbaland drops the pitch and makes him sound like a comatose cow.

As for the music, if I may loosely call it, it's the sort of thing you can hear on any number of Britney Spears or Madonna records. It's that glossy, over-produced, under-composed, rhythm-driven, trend-ridden and ultimately emotionally hollow aural hairspray with which they drench the sort of pop records that are supported with 7 borderline softcore videos, a stage show that features ten times more dancers than musicians and regular upskirt leaks to Hello! magazine. Wow! Imagine that! Upskirts and nipple slips featuring former Playgay bunny KK 'Downy Mustache' Cornroll! Dreamy! (Just in case you've stopped barfing, that should start you up again. This entire review should be read in the midst of bouts of projectile vomiting to capture the true spirit of the album in question).

It's an annoying beat-laden mess, and you're fooling yourself if you thought it could be anything else, if you thought that the sound of a used-up rocker commiting career harakiri while being milked for comedy value by some hip-hop/r&b pimp who thought it was a good day to go slumming could somehow be a compelling, creative new mix of sounds. If he really wanted to explore new musical territory, he'd have gone to someone other than the Mutt Lange of pop music. This is the sound of a man who has lost his way and is trying to cash in his chips before it's too late. It's a big, loud, obnoxious mid-life crisis and it almost makes Chinese Democracy sound like the album of the year in comparison.

Just for the purpose of this album, we've had to invent a new rating below 0.

Thadiyan has his eye on you, Chris.