IN WHICH WE OVERDOSED ON POT BROWNIES
Vince and I booked our flight to Atlanta for Scion Rock Fest this week. That’s right: we’re gonna fuck up the ATL, bee-otch! We promise to leave the city in a state comparable to how we found it… although I can’t say the same thing for the members of Pig Destroyer.
ANYWAY, here’s some shit that went down this week:
- We got awesome guest blogs from Sigh’s Mirai Kawashima, Neuraxis’ Rob Milley, and, natch, Intronaut’s Sacha Dunable.
- We reviewed new releases by Cannibal Corpse, Napalm Death, Edguy, Giant Squid, Deadlock, Rose Funeral, and Kylesa.
- New music from God Forbid and Buried Inside made us happy.
- The Rockstar Energy Mayhem Festival is shaping up to be an ass-kicker.
- The makers of Guitar Hero: Metallica swapped out one Slayer song with insanely violent lyrics for another; suburban mommies everywhere somehow now feel a lil’ bit better.
Alright. It’s Friday night, which means it’s time for me to troll the net pretending not to be Tripp Eisen so I can screw me a young ‘un. Horns.
-AR
In case ya didn’t know: in the years following his time in Guns N’ Roses, Duff McKagan actually went back to school and got his degree in… finance. If I’m not mistaken, that makes him the only member of the original GN’R to have a college degree – when they were most at their most successful, only Izzy Stradlin was even a high school graduate – which may explain why Duff and Izzy are the only members of the original band who have not completely humiliated themselves in the years since, either by appearing on a reality show, becoming a fucknuts recluse, taking gigs with anyone who can meet their quote, or being Matt Sorum.
Despite our roots in melodic metalcore (we would like to apologize for All That Remains) and Aerosmith (which was a good thing at first, I suppose), Massachusetts still has a wonderfully vibrant and diverse metal scene going for it. Even when living in non-Mass locales over the years, I felt a twinge of hometown pride when a noteworthy band from the Bay State (Converge, Isis, my profound weakness for Killswitch Engage, and so forth) did something worthy of accolade. And rest assured that there are plenty of commendable bands bubbling beneath the (occasionally frigid and snow covered) surface. Despite demerits (once again, being semi-responsible for hardcore bands ripping off At the Gates while tossing in boring-ass breakdowns; Godsmack), my home state still has much to offer in the way of metal, not simply going under when scenes and trends become passé. I recently stumbled upon two exceptional releases by two Mass-based bands, most certainly worthy of your time, and who will hopefully be making a most-joyful noise later on this year.
Am I the only who finds Vince Neil’s recent statement that when playing live he tries sing as true to the records as possible completely ludicrous?
High school Vince Neilstein would’ve loved Edguy if only he’d known about Edguy. Your Motley Crue-monikered editor took a break from metal during his high school years let down by the demise of the hair bands and the invasion of the nu-metal dunder-heads, completely oblivious to all the great music our European friends were creating on the other side of the pond. But when I discovered Iron Maiden my senior year it was all over, and so began my long, but deep descent into the world of metal (egged on by one Axl Rosenberg, to be sure). Tickle your funny bones with this one: summer after Senior year I went all by my lonesome to see Iron Maiden at Madison Square Garden — ’cause no one else I knew gave two shits about metal — with a rolled joint ready to rock in my wallet. Needless to say, it was life-changing.
Blame it on the rigors of moving home cities yet again, or changing drummers as frequently as Spinal Tap, or trying to best their universally hailed first album Metridium Field: Giant Squid sound exhausted on The Ichthyologist. More depressed than angry. Not so overtly metal. Lethargic in their rhythms, loose in their playing. Maybe it’s all intentional, given the stark emotional terrain of the source material – based on band leader Aaron Gregory’s graphic novel of the same name, The Ichthyologist records the thoughts of a numbed narrator as he turns to the sea to escape the pain of personal tragedy and loss. Gregory’s lyrics dwell in dank, lightless places. If on Metridium Field Giant Squid were skimming the sea’s surface in search of their namesake seabeast, this one finds them sinking, pulled down into the fathomless depths.
Six times over the past 9 months I’ve received emails from Jordanian metal band 
In a well-written but typically sour-old-fart-ish rant about the audio quality of CDs vs. vinyl, industry pundit Bob Lefsetz made perhaps one of the best comparisons ever:
