IN WHICH WE SAVED DAYLIGHT
Friday, March 13th, 2009 at 6:20pm by Vince NeilsteinYou bitched and moaned about daylight savings time, even though you were asleep when the clocks changed and you get an extra hour of daylight every day until November. You are all retards.
Here’s what else happened this week:
- Sigh’s Mirai Kawashima gave us another studio report (no naked Dr. Mikannibal pics, sorry), Early Man’s Mike Conte got his cheesesteak on, and Neuraxis’ Alexandre Leblanc gave us his final tour blog.
- We spoke with Darkane’s Christofer Malmstrom, Meshuggah’s Marten Hagstrom, Soilwork’s Peter Wichers and Ross the Boss (ex-Manowar)
- Our man-crush on Trent Reznor grew ever greater.
- You argued over who was the most important member of Metallica, past and present.
- We looked at new releases by Razor of Occam and Karl Sanders.
- It was a big week in the Norwegian courts… the Gorgoroth case was settled, and Varg was granted parole.
- Crazytown and Skunk Anansie are getting back together.
Next week Kip and I take off for Austin, TX on Wednesday. We’ll be live-blogging whenever possible. To everyone else, have fun not being there, suckazzz!!
-VN
The problems most people have with black metal – shitty production, sloppy musicianship, lack of substantial riffs – are solved in the realm of blackened thrash. While using the skeletal elements of black metal (tremolo picked minor key riffs with raspy vocals), the genre forgoes those relative weaknesses and makes black metal a matter of ball-kicking fury instead of grouchy Satan/Odin worship. Of course, blackened thrash’s need for speed and punishing fretwork sacrifices the subtle emotional depth and dynamic intensity of good black metal, and increases the possibility of a skin deep encounter. Good blackened thrash, though, is like Pringles: despite its dubious nutritional value, it’s impossible to not consume as much as possible at once. (Skeletonwitch and Absu are great examples, providing relatively varied songs to maintain interest throughout an entire full length of raspy shouting and relentless, frosty jackhammer riffing.) Razor of Occam aren’t as successful, drifting into same-y territory after a while, but certainly are quite enthralling for a song or two. And perhaps, according to late and (very) great comedian Mitch Hedberg, this make Razor of Occam’s Homage to Martyrs the pancakes of blackened thrash – all exciting at first, but then by the end you‘re fucking sick of them. Though, in staunch defense of RoO, pancakes are by no means a commodity worth getting rid of just because they’re good in small doses. Nor does this make Homage to Martyrs a bad album, just a hard to take all at once.
