Artist: Mourning September
Album: A Man Can Change His Stars
Label: Floodgate Records
Tracks: 10
Length: 37:29
Review by: Phil Nichols

It was a dark and stormy night. The sun had almost completely vanished beneath the blood red horizon. Darkness softly crept over the land, hiding the rain clouds so that each liquid spear cast down seemed to be descending from an infinite, black abyss. Lightning flashed, illuminating the desolate sky, followed abruptly by rolling thunder, rending the silence and rattling the windows of Dr. Herbert von Winkerton's second story laboratory.

"Wendell!" screamed the doctor in a throaty cough. "Yes, Dr. von Winkerton?" squeaked the doctors pubescent young henchman. "Wendell, I'm going to let you in on a little secret- a secret so dastardly and so vile that if it got out it would be the end of me." The young boy stared wide-eyed as the doctor led him past bubbling beakers and test tubes luminous with neon chemicals, before finally stopping next to a mysterious object shrouded in a large sheet.

"In here, my boy, lies my dirty little secret. You see, for many years I have toiled with making mind-altering potions and bloodthirsty monsters that will make the world cower and obey me. But as a result of my recent failed attempts at world domination, I have grown weary of all of the traditional means that mad scientists (like myself) have used to conquer the planet. I want to stretch myself creatively. Thus, I have decided to conquer the earth by taking over the youth and forming an army of adolescent drones ready to act at my slightest whim." The doctor's eyes grew wide with anticipation and he stared directly into those of his kindly, but dim-witted, sidekick.

"Please, don't hurt me, sir" squealed Wendell.

"Ha. Don't be ridiculous Wendell. Do you really think so highly of yourself that you feel worthy to assist me in world domination? The notion is laughable. Besides you are far too clumsy to be of any use to me- you break nearly everything you touch. See, just now, in the short time that I have been reprimanding you, you have already broken a beaker!"

It was true. Wendell was clumsy. He was also illiterate and lacking in decent personal hygiene. "Sorry, sir." Wendell squeaked as he bent to pick up the broken glass shards that had once resembled a beaker.

After cleaning up his mess, Wendell returned to the doctor's side. "Well sir, how did you plan on controlling all of the world's youth?"

"Wendell, you loveable, little moron. I will take over the youth by taking over their minds." Seeing the vacant look on his henchman's face, the doctor continued to clarify, "Have you ever had a song stuck in your head?" Wendell nodded slowly. "Well, I plan to create an album that will get stuck in the children's heads. Then the lyrics will slowly (but surely) brainwash them into becoming my slaves. Then the world will be mine. Mwahaha!" Thunder rumbled in the distance and the lightning outside painted an eerie shadow of the maniacal doctor on the wall.

"Well how are you going to make such a catchy album?" Wendell queried.

"Ahh, my lad, your ignorance is almost palpable. I will make the catchy album with this." As he spoke, he dramatically pulled the sheet off of the large object, which turned out to be a machine. "Observe: I select two bands on this screen. I shall select the Foo Fighters and Jimmy Eat World (bands like that seem to be all the rage these days). Now this machine will create an album that fuses the two band's sounds together."

"But sir, how will it control people's minds?"

"It will control people's minds when I add the appropriate lyrical potion to it. Now go into that closet and fetch me the potion marked 'Mind Control'!"

Now, as previously stated: Wendell was illiterate (unbeknownst to the doctor). Reluctantly, he opened the closet and found himself staring into a dark corridor lined with shelves full of tiny vials of potion. Unsure of what he should do, the boy grabbed a neon yellow potion and returned to his master.

Dr. von Winkerton seized the potion from Wendell and smiled wide. He unscrewed the cap and slowly emptied the vial of all of its contents. Then turning to his young henchman, he grinned and reached for a large lever on the side of the machine. "This is it, my boy!" he exclaimed as he pulled the lever down.

The lights in the room flickered on and off; thunder roared outside. The doctor laughed. It was a shrill laugh- a high pitched cackle. The machine buzzed and coughed; it began to shake (violently at times). And then suddenly everything was quiet. The storm faded into noiselessness. The machine stood perfectly still. You could almost hear the silence in the room. And then slowly a cd slid out of a small slot on the great contraption.

"This is it, Wendell." Said the doctor as he reached for the disc. "This is- what? Mourning September?" he read from the discs exterior. "That sounds like a commonplace emo band! Surely this is not the super-band that will lead me to world domination! Ah, but perhaps I am being rash in my judgment. Let us listen to the album, Wendell."

Dr. von Winkerton put the cd into a small stereo on the countertop. Instantly, songs similar in sound to the two bands selected on the machine began to play. But there was something missing. Something was wrong.

"Imprecations!" yelled the doctor. "This is not what I had in mind. Children will never be brainwashed with this flashy second-rate emo!" Dr. von Winkerton grabbed the vial he had emptied into the machine and gasped. "Wendell, you fool! You were to bring me the brainwashing potion. Do realize what you have done?" He gazed angrily at the label on the vial that read in tiny black letters: Mediocre Christian Alternative To Secular Artists Potion.

The doctor was enraged. He threw the vial at his cowering henchman. Wendell ducked and crawled beneath a nearby table, narrowly avoiding the speedy projectile. "Sir!" he screamed dodging a few other small objects currently being throw at him. "Sir! Please listen to me." Von Winkerton froze, still wielding a beaker, to listen to his assistant's plea. "Sir, you have forgotten that all kinds of children out there listen to second-rate emo. There are hundreds of bands- Christian bands- that are mediocre, but catchy enough to earn the money and support of the industry. Listen: the music is decent enough; the guitar riffs (while nothing amazing) are still adequate enough; the vocals hooks are pretty strong too. If you release the album, you might not take over the world, but people will buy it, and you will be able to cash in on the recent music trend. You can use the money you make to fund more experiments in world domination."

The doctor put down the beaker. He smiled and helped Wendell out from beneath the table. "I have been foolish, my lad. I have sought world domination when infinite financial success was at my fingertips. It is all clear now: if I copy a successful, innovative artist, I will get a unoriginal (yet marketable) new artist. From this day forward, I will no longer seek to control the earth. Instead, I will create more and more emo bands, until the trends change. Then I will adjust the procedure to accommodate whatever becomes fashionable next. Wendell, we're going to be rich."

Wendell and Dr. von Winkerton smiled at one another. Then, in the heat of the moment, they clasped hands and walked out of the room to a nearby ice cream parlor to celebrate their future success and the deep ties of their friendship.