MetalSucks

For those of you not from the U.S. and somehow completely unaware of this, the Fourth of July is a pretty big deal here in America. On that day, we celebrate winning our freedom by kicking the British’s ass. Of course, they later gave us Hugh Grant, so I guess they had their revenge in the end.

So there won’t be any posts tomorrow; on Monday, we’ll unveil the last albums on the list. In the meantime, here’s some things that happened this week in the world of MetalSucks:

• We continued to countdown the 21 Best Metal Albums of the 21st Century… So Far. You continued to engage in, um, intelligent debate. Yeah, let’s call it intelligent debate.
• We spoke with Goatwhore’s Ben Falgoust and Black Math Horseman’s Sera Timms.
• We checked out new releases from Killswitch Engage and Havok.
• Daath’s Eyal Levi took a break from worrying about dying in fiery plane or car crash to worry about getting shot.
• We debated the merits of the new Alice in Chains song.
• We laughed at high school year book photos of past and present members of Metallica.

I plan to not be sober for the next 72 hours. See ya Monday!

-AR

Black Math Horseman have been around a relatively short while, but have quickly risen to prominence. With Wyllt, the band’s Scott Reeder produced/MetalSucks approved debut, they’ve created a subtle space of OG-psychedelicambience and post-/doom metal riffs and crescendos.

A big part of the band’s distinctiveness is vocalist Sera Timms’ droning voice, occasionally veering over to screaming but usually sticking to singing. In an email interview Sera was kind enough to grant us, she eloquently discusses the origins of Wyllt, working with Scott Reeder, and the current climate of music in the twilight of the record industry.

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It’s Friday, and it’s nice out. I’ma go have a whiskey. Booze and drugs make you look cool and get lots of pussy… it’s true.

Here’s what happened this week that made us batty enough to turn to the dark side:

• We got sick of metal bands doing ironic pop cover songs just in time for a metal band to do another terrible pop cover song.
• We spoke with Barney Greenway of Napalm Death, Chris Arp of Psyopus and Karl Sanders of Nile.
• We were Gay for Gojira and Crazy for The Chariot.
• The Devil Wears Prada: way too popular.
• We looked at new records from Black Math Horseman, Agoraphobic Nosebleed, as well as a new track from Suicide Silence and a new track from Dream Theater.
• xAxlRosenbergx got all anti-straight edge on your asses.

See you next week. Don’t get too stoned tomorrow with yer Uncle Kip.

-VN

A close read of Black Math Horseman’s name will ultimately lead to disappointment: “Black” denotes black metal, but sadly, there is none; “Math” signifies shifting time signatures and jerky rhythms, but band’s album is fairly light on that front; and “Horseman” could hearken back to black metal yet again, or perhaps Amon Amarth-style romp through kick-ass melodic death metal. But, alas, the parts of Black Math Horseman’s name certainly don’t add up to the assumed whole; in fact, their name is up there with Massive Attack and Lamb of God in terms of misleading band monikers. But this doesn’t mean Black Math Horseman suck. Though different – on top of their bizarre name – from your average brand of spacey post-metal, Wyllt, the band’s debut, has a lot packed into what seems to be a measly package: a short running time with relatively brief songs, a lot of atmosphere and, upon first listen, not a lot of hooks. But they stuff a lot beneath the surface, and after Wyllt reveals itself, there’s a considerable amount of substance that will burrow its way into you. Though maybe not in the way you think, Black Math Horseman are hard to dismiss.

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After the antics of the first day of the festival, I felt more than ready to get into day two with a healthy dose of music from the beginning. Unfortunately, that was not to be so for me, as at the time I thought I would be continuing on after SXSW into further ridonkulousness, all the way to a family vacation during Spring Break in Mexico….and today was the day that my renewed passport was meant to be FedExed to the flophouse where Vince and I were crashing.

When I had returned to said flophouse the night prior and to my surprise found an open couch in the living room right by the front door (where I was told FedEx homeboy would appear bright and early), I figured it prolly made the most sense to sleep right there on the ground floor as opposed to the stank upstairs sweat lodge where I would be sure to miss any sounds of door knocking.

Sadly, no FedEx arrived in the morning as promised — I was actually awoken by a phone call from Vince around noon wondering where the hell I had ended up last night. After a couple more hours my passport finally arrived, at which point I had to wait at least another hour for a cab to take me down to the action.

HOLY SHIT.

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