Virgin Records could quite possibly be the most stupid record label in the history of music. First they give Mariah Carey 80 million dollars to make the movie and album Glitter. "Oops." And now they may have topped that colossal gaffe by offering Robbie Williams 120 million dollars for the rights to a record that is pretty much the musical equivalent of finding a burning sack of dog turd on your front porch.

I should confess that I was a huge champion of his previous four albums (yes, they're all good, no joke), but now all the people that made fun of me for liking him, might well be enjoying the last laugh. Williams has always been a smarmy, egotistic windbag and, for the most part, it's been fun. But this time around it's so unmistakably repugnant that I just want to beat him with his own Italian shoes. The opening track isn't a bad song, but after that, the record plunges to earth faster than the bungee jumper featured on the cover.

Williams wants the listener to sympathize with the mistakes he's made over the course of his decadent career--but he only succeeds in making you want to stick your finger down your throat. Escapology is one of the most ironically fitting titles an album has ever had. While forcing myself to listen to this crap record long enough to give it a fair evaluation, I've never felt such a desperate need to escape in my life.