In our all too short lives, we'll each stumble across an album or a song that's not only great music, but somehow transcends being simply "music" and manages to speak to us on an individual level. It's kind of like falling in love, finding these albums. You play them all the time, and although your friends can't see what's so special about them, you could care less. They're your albums and no one else's. Such albums are few and very far between, but those are the ones that become classics-- albums that are memorable; albums that make memories.

Sadly, All Hail Discordia is everything that a classic album is not: predictable, uninspired and irritating. Everything about this album-- from its inane, mystic pseudo-Eastern cover art to its guitar rock, verse/chorus/verse song structure-- screams middle of the road. In fact, All Hail Discordia seems to revel in its own mediocrity, thriving under the lack of pressure of not having to live up to anyone's expectations. I mean, who really thought that the latest By Divine Right record was going to change the world? Not a soul! Not even the chaps in the band, I'll wager. And because of that, they have a certain freedom that is not afforded to more respected "artists." In other words, By Divine Right was free to create the mediocre record that was buried deep inside of them.

And boy, did they. Instead of changing a note here or fussing with a lyric there so as to make these songs more "classic" or "artistic," By Divine Right has bitten the hack musician bullet hard and apparently grown comfortable with producing shit. On All Hail Discordia, they've warmly embraced such clichéd rock staples as the power chord, the sickly-sweet love song, the pop culture reference, the obvious drug reference and even the novelty song, all for the sole purpose of expressing their own Gen-X, media saturated, middle-of-the-road mindset.

Not surprisingly, Discordia's music is completely forgettable. It's grounded in the early 90's alterna-rock to a fault, as the 18 tracks manage to mimic everyone from Dinosaur Jr to Pavement to the Breeders to laid-back Pearl Jam, minus any of the original bands' pesky inspiration or power. You've all heard this stuff before-- fuzzy guitars moving lazily through simple chord changes, remedial drumbeats plodding along in the background, all held together by so-so lyrics about girls and other aspects of slacker life. All the indie rock stereotypes are here in full effect, and they're just as boring as they were the first time you heard them.

Still, mediocre art has its own unique place on the cultural bookcase. Basically, when you're making an album that no one expects anything from, you can do whatever the hell you want. After all, if everyone wanted to write "Citizen Kane," who would be out there making "Police Academy" films? I mean, would any classic album have the balls to bear a song called "Bigfoot" proudly, let alone one that sports the goofy-ass line, "Sasquatch... doesn't wear a watch?"

Another example of the album's low-brow self-expression comes courtesy of the one minute, twenty-seven second long ode to high school dope smoking, "Rock High:" "We put the high in high school." Yeah, By Divine Right may have grown comfortable making shit, but at least it's their own shit. It's that freedom that saves this disc from complete musical oblivion. All Hail Discordia is the cheap thrill of "Police Academy" propositions, barely entertaining, never awe-inspiring, but always harmless. Still, if I had to choose between a classic album and a few 1990's poster boys telling me what's on their mind, I'd take a classic any day.

-Steven Byrd