It's a croon/jazz/massive-turd of a record
Even notorious Mafia-befriendin’, orgy-lovin’ good-time racist [b]Frank Sinatra[/b] sounded like a man you could send to your gran with a sherry on Christmas Eve once he’d crooned his way through the seasonal hits. Now, drug-addled former [b]Stone Temple Pilot[/b] [a]Scott Weiland[/a] attempts a similar dive for the present pile under the tree with this album of festive staples given a croon/jazz/massive-turd of a record. It does, however, have one wholesome use, as perfect listening in rehab centres that specialise in treating those who got into smack thanks to the [b]Gen X[/b] influence of Weiland and his lank-haired chums. Pass the sprouts.