CINEMETAL ROUND-UP: NEW VIDEOS FROM BULLET FOR MY VALENTINE, WRETCHED, AND WOE, IS ME
I had an awesome dream last night, in which I woke up (Waking up in a dream! Trippy!!!) to find the new Pig Destroyer album in my inbox. So when I woke up for real, of course, I knew it had only been a dream, but, perhaps hopeful that I had developed psychic abilities, I ran to my computer and checked my e-mail. There was no Pig Destroyer album waiting for me, but there was a new video from Bullet for My Valentine, “Bittersweet Memories.” Which is just as good as a new Pig Destroyer album… NOT!!! (Oh yeah. I went all early-90s on your ass.)
ANYWAY, let’s actually watch this thing and see how bad it is.
[tries to watch video]
Alright. I made it about forty seconds in. Anyone make it longer? Is there any reason I need to watch the rest of this? I guess I shouldn’t be so judgmental. I mean, every generation needs their Winger, right? This Winger just wears Slayer shirts to try and pretend they’re not Winger. No biggie.
(Yes, BMFV fans. I just compared the band to Winger. That would make you the Stewart Stevenson of any given social situation amongst other metalheads. Congratulations.)
Next is Wretched’s new clip for “Cimmerian Shamballa,” which has debuted on Metal Underground. Wretched are not a bad band, but they could use a little sumpin’ sumpin’ to make ’em more distinctive. You may recall that they previously claimed to have made the bloodiest music video ever; this one doesn’t have nearly so useful a gimmick, but the song is not too shabby. Go here to check out the clip.
Finally, we have “[&]Delinquents” from Woe, Is Me. I don’t know what the deal is with the brackets and ampersand in the song title, and I don’t know why they put the comma in their band name. Gee, I hope that commas in band names becomes a trend. Especially if those commas are always put in the wrong, place.
In any case, this is a completely generic video for a terrible song which is only memorable for featuring the most trite lyric in the history of broken-hearted fifteen year olds trying to be profound:
“Your mind is like a candle stick, my ambitions are constantly burning out.”
Dude, if your ambitions are in someone else’s mind, they’re probably not your ambitions. Like, that lyric may be the single greatest ode to Jewish mothers since Fiddler on the Roof‘s “Tradition.” I think some therapy to help you build your ego (“ego” in the Freudian sense, not in the Dave Mustaine sense) might be helpful. Then maybe you won’t feel so angsty and auto-tuney all the time.
In conclusion, waffles.