Never before have so many done so much to prove that crossing over from actor to singer is not something that should happen on a regular basis. Heck, even Keanu Reeves - not exactly the brightest bulb - chose to stand back and play bass for his band, Dogstar, singing backup vocals only.

As far as entertainment purposes, this album is best used to get a reaction out of people. Normally, this reaction will be questions ranging from "What the hell is this?" to "What kind of drugs are you taking, and where can I get some?". However, that was the reason this compilation was created, obviously, because there is nothing to offer in the realm of serious musicianship. And since it was designed to make people wonder what's wrong with their stereos, I rated it with five stars because it performs that function with such efficiency.

But let's get to the point, shall we? This album is bad. The singing is bad, the overall performances are bad, and the choice of songs for the actors is, in my opinion, heavily influenced by hashish and various other pharmaceutical entertainment enhancers. I mean, Jack Webb "singing" a song called "Try A Little Tenderness"? I have no doubt that someone, somewhere, sat with his co-workers at a big table covered with a huge mound of the purest Colombian White Lady, and, after taking in a HUGE dram of Peruvian flake, said something like, "Hey...What if we got, like, William Shatner...Don't laugh, dude! You'll make me lose my train of thought...Where was I? Oh, yeah! Shatner. What if we got Shatner to cover a Beatles tune? People'd buy that, right? Right? You guys wanna order a pizza? Pizza, anyone? Wait! I've got it! I don't know why, but I suddenly realized why Cheech and Chong are so funny! Ooh! And what about Mister French? You gonna eat that donut? Man, I'm hungry..." You get the idea.

The only thing I can think of that would be more horrific is a sequel to this painful collection of tunes, and such a creature does exist.

Good lord, this was a bad CD.

I think I need a hug...

This album has become surprisingly influential. It was the first album to feature celebrities singing badly. I remember the first time I heard it; I laughed my head off. It spawned three sequels and several imitations. Hey, it even helped revive William Shatner's career! Of course, Shatner's unforgetable renditions of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" and "Mr. Tambourine Man" are the highlights here, but there's much more. Shatner's first mate, Leonard Nimoy, who was the most prolific actor/vocalist (five albums!), has two amazing contributions here. Everybody's favorite butler, Sebastian Cabot, has two songs from his spoken word album where he overacts Bob Dylan lyrics. Speaking of overacting Bob Dylan songs, you should here what Eddie "Green Acres" Albert does to "Blowin' in the Wind". Jack Webb recites "Try a Little Tenderness" in his best Joe Friday monotone. I could go on and on, but I will get to the point and say that "this album is hilarious". I highly recommend this album to anyone who likes funny music.

I got this album primarily because, being a fan of old TV in general and the Original Star Trek in particular, I really wanted to have those tracks that Leonard Nimoy and William Shatner sing (mind you, I'm using the term "sing" loosely here). I had always heard how cheesy/bad Shatner's and Nimoy's tracks were, and I thought it'd be good for a laugh.

And of course, it is most certainly good for a laugh, particularly Eddie Albert's "Blowin' in the Wind" and Jim Nabors's "You Are the Sunshine of My Life" (Nabors's operatic voice was definitely wrong for an easy listening pop song.)

However, to my suprise, as another reviewer of this album has noted, most of the tracks are surprisingly listenable and good. Nimoy may not have the best voice in the world but he at least sings on key (more than can be said for most "modern rock" vocalists today, who whine and scream into a microphone and call it singing). Shatner of course is such a ham that it's enough to make you die laughing; but hey, he puts his heart and soul into it and you have to give him credit for that.

Sebastian Cabot's spoken-word renditions of old Dylan favorites are...well, odd and certainly are not my favorite tracks on the album (kind of bizarre to have Mr. French doing Dylan and there's not much oomph there).

Noel Harrison's "Whiter Shade of Pale" may actually be better than Procul Harum's; and Joel Grey's "White Room" may be better than Cream's version. On the original versions of both of these tracks, I was never able to understand what in the world the original artists were singing about, but with both Harrison and Grey I actually was able to make out what was being said (rock singers tend to mumble a lot and sing only for themselves, but Harrison and Grey both enunciate nicely so you can understand them).

Probably could've done without Mae West's "Twist and Shout," but hey, by the time she did this she was pushing eighty years old, got to at least give her credit for effort. And Andy Griffith's "House of the Rising Sun," while not nearly as good as the Animals' version, is an interesting interpretation.

So the upshot is - it will not only make you laugh, it may make you revisit your opinion of the "definitive versions" of old rock favorites! Buy it.

This is, simply put, the most disturbing collection of *music* ever collected. You'll laugh the first few times through it, and simultaneously cringe. A few more turns in the CD player, and it becomes sickeningly transcendent. Flee in terror, or click on Buy Now and grab a copy--either response is appropriate. "Golden Throats" is the "Blue Velvet" of trash music.

This is, for better or worse, the album that made Rhino's name. And one is hard pressed to imagine why. Simply put, it's not that funny. While Sebastian Cabot archly blundering over "It Ain't Me, Babe" and Jack Webb reciting "Try a Little Tenderness" like a police report are amusing, most of the other tracks aren't bad enough to be funny. Just because a star has no business making music doesn't mean the end result is a laff riot. Even William Shatner's celebrated mauling of "Mr. Tambourine Man" is merely pretentious heard in its album context. What's more, these misbegotten renderings are mostly from the sixties, before production advances and better technology allowed any no-talent to sound -- well, half-decent. They're as much the victims of bad recording as anything else.
Which brings us to the sound quality. It's obsolete. This CD was obviously derived from analog LP masters, which in turn were probably derived from multiple-generation tapes. One who remembers the Rhino folks using their catalog to complain that Sony Music turned out Simon and Garfunkel CDs from noisy duplicates (not anymore) mightn't be pleased. So too with the running time. Look in the liner booklet for any Rhino album circa 1990 (the age of the dreaded long-box) and you'll see well meaning environmental reminders. Isn't thirty-odd minutes on a CD rather wasteful? (The recent "Silk Stockings" runs seventy-nine minutes.) Yet this album is first cousin of all those Billboard anthologies and the cheater budget albums the label has produced in too-great number for the rack jobbers, only it's full-line. Music fans must love Rhino; but for every "Doo Wop Box" or "Have a Nice Day" or "Gigi" or "Band Wagon" it turns out three or four gimmicks and many times more annoying repackagings. They've become only slightly more careful in recent years. If Rhino and the bosses at Warner Music really want to please their customers they'll ditch this and its sequels for a newly-remastered multi-disc set compiled by Dr. Demento -- from session or first-generation tapes, please. Meantime, if you want funny, buy their multi-disc box of Spike Jones.

(ALL RIGHT, Amazon.com, I WON'T COMMENT on "helpful" ratings. Every time I do you delete the words.)