Because they’re dressed like waspy toffs in cravats on their album artwork, I was hoping that the Jonas Brothers sang ‘20s ragtime tunes in the manner of an off-key Bertie Wooster, possibly with a disapproving valet making undermining statements off to one side (within the boundaries of class-crossing acceptability, of course).
Unfortunately the Jonas Brothers just sound like McFly. Nobody wants that. Even McFly feel guilty. “What have we done!” say McFly when they hear the Jonas Brothers and jump in front of a train. “Ha, ha! We don’t care! Fuck you McFly” say the Jonas Brothers, because the laboratory they were created in produces a purer strain of pop evil. They sing about ‘dream girls’ for satan’s sake! Listening to the Jonas Brothers makes me feel helpless and impotent; kind of like the rest of Europe must have felt after the Prussian war machine unified Germany in 1871. That’s how ominous this is folks. The Jonas Brothers want to feast on your bones and take your daughters. Are we going to let them? Hell no! Sign up now.

Key Track: the silent bits between the songs