Monahan wrecks train

By Nate Adams
Collegian Editor
October 17, 2007

When the lead singer of Train, Pat Monahan, sent his solo record Last of Seven to Collegian, I must admit that I had extremely low expectations for the album. I mean, sure, Train had that one good song (“Meet Virginia”), but it also had a bunch of really bad songs (virtually every other Train song). However, after listening to Last of Seven, I realized the album has accomplished something truly amazing. Monahan has created the most generic adult pop album of all time.

What people don’t always understand, including Monahan, is that pop music doesn’t have to be a series of boring, recycled tropes and clichéd ideas. I understand that not everyone is a creative genius and some folks are just doing the best they can, but a little creativity can go for miles, especially in the world of top 40 adult contemporary. But rather than take a chance and try something new, Monahan prefers to hide behind other, more successful artists and copy their styles.

So shameless is Monahan’s robbing of others that I can pinpoint whom he is ripping off at almost every turn. There’s a song that sounds like Maroon 5 (“Ripple in the Water”), a song that sounds like Jason Mraz (“Girlfriend”) and songs that just sound like Train B-sides, which are especially wretched (“After Midnight”). There’s even a song that sounds like Jojo (“Someday”). How bad must you be to copy a 14-year-old pop starlet?

The cherry on this giant crap-sundae is the unspeakably lame “Cowboys and Indians.” The music itself isn’t so deplorable, but Monahan’s lyrics are really something to behold on this song. Take this example: “Cowboys and Indians/heteros and gays/blacks and whites/and all of their ways/they’re all dancing underneath the moon.” If that looks bad on paper, try listening to it over headphones.

By trying to be inoffensive at every turn, Monahan has made one of the most offensive records of the year. Is this what he thinks people will respond to? Sixth grade poetry and shoddy, second-hand copycat music? Come on Patrick, I know Train fans aren’t the sharpest crayons in the box, but they deserve better than this. Unless Monahan is playing a joke on everyone, or this was supposed to be a comedy album and was mis-packaged, Last of Seven is the worst record I’ve heard all year. Avoid this thing like the plague.

adamsn1@lasalle.edu