I’m sure there are going to be people who give this a 5.
People who are the music equivalent to art-wankers. Those who think that if you put a 12 foot square frame around an emulsion wall, or place an unmade bed with a steaming turd in the corner of an art gallery then it must be art.
Those that would then write a 10 thousand word thesis on the feelings that the painter and decorator was having and the traumas they were going through when they created it.
In the same way that the shitty bed isn't art, this album is not music (in the sense that everyone else understands music). It’s not melodic and meaningful. It doesn’t have a rhythm that inspires movement or a melody that might implant itself into your unconsciousness so that when you hear it again - maybe decades later - it inspires you to remember what you were doing or who you were with.
No, pretentious art-wanker-music-equivalents would rather perpetuate an illusion that they (and the performer) were trying to express some deeper meaning to life the universe and everything that us mere mortals couldn’t hope to understand. And so they are somehow smarter than the rest of us. In short - they can see the emperors clothes. And it’s all bullshit. It’s just a bloke who can’t play the right notes and has no real sense of rhythm.
It does get a 2 though. The reason being that, unlike Eno’s ‘Ambient’ horseshit, it was never boring. I just wouldn’t ever listen to it again.