In an upcoming episode of "The X-Files," Fox Mulder gets mixed up with some paranormal forces and somehow believes he's a rock 'n' roll god. No, wait. That's not a TV show. It's apparently real life for David Duchovny.
Duchovny ditches his day job chasing aliens on television to release his 12-track sophomore effort, "Every Third Thought," an album of pretty good rock songs marred by perhaps the worst vocal performances ever captured digitally. Duchovny has a horrifically thin voice, unable to modulate, unable to show any emotion, unable to hold a note. It doesn't go up or down. It just sits there croaking like a dying frog.
But the second one is a blemish on a really good band, including multi-instrumentalists Colin Lee, Pat McCusker and Mitchell Stewart-who also serve as the producers-and Sebastian Modak on drums. They deserve better. Forget the truth: a true vocalist is out there, guys.
Duchovny's lyrics seem designed to either make nerdy folks swoon with references to ancient Rome and science-"Matter decays exponentially/ Half-lives await us all eventually"-or make them wince ("I'll slap the cuffs on the hands of time" and "When it comes to bliss, I'm a communist").
In "'Mo," he has the gall to criticize our insatiable hunger for everything, from cars to love: "Everybody always wants the cream at the top/ But nobody knows when to stop." Thanks, David, it's always nice for a one-time sex addict to lecture us on conspicuous consumption.
Is it clear yet? Dude. Can't. Sing. Make him stop.