As I predicted back in August, Magrudergrind’s Rehashed ended up at #1 on my year-end best-of list. Once my list got mixed in with everyone else’s, Magrudergrind weren’t so close to the top but still made an impressive showing, so obviously someone besides me voted for them. And one of the guys behind the album that did make #1 knows what’s up [minor spoilers ahead if you want the Top 40 to be a surprise], because Magrudergrind are one of the bands to be featured on a new grindcore/second-generation powerviolence compilation that [secret band guy] is putting together for Relapse for a Spring ‘08 release. Magrudergrind’s tracks are recorded, and they’ve put up an unmastered version of one of them, “Burden,” on their MySpace page. And just because I can, my own top 20 list for 2007, which differs from the final Decibel list (heading to subscribers this week) in many crucial ways, yet provides some tantalizing clues to the secrets held therein:

1. Magrudergrind – Rehashed
2. Watain – Sworn to the Dark
3. Career Suicide – Attempted Suicide
4. Coliseum – No Salvation
5. Stormcrow/Sanctum – Split
6. Sayyadina – Mourning the Unknown
7. Drugs of Faith/Antigama – Split
8. Jesu – Conqueror
9. Inquisition – Nefarious Dismal Orations
10. Pig Destroyer – Phantom Limb
11. Neurosis – Given to the Rising
12. Melt-Banana – Bambi’s Dilemma
13. Double Negative – The Wonderful and Frightening World of…
14. Portal – Outre
15. Bergraven – Dodsvisioner
16. Fucked Up – Year of the Pig
17. Glorior Belli – Manifesting the Raging Beast
18. Angels of Light – We Are Him
19. Deathspell Omega – Fas – Ite, Maledicti, in Ignem Aeternum
20. Look Back and Laugh – self-titled #2

By Alicja Trout

My friend Jason had a record store called Metropolis in New Orleans in the early 2000s. Though it mainly carried punk, indie and rock ‘n’ roll, he had a black metal section right in the middle of the store. It was still the early days of Lost Sounds touring; the band was still fresh and clean and I was filled with inspiration to subject my bandmates to my cacophonous ideas. I always wanted to keep it in the realms of basic rock ‘n’ roll/punk but make it lift off the ground like Bach, and inside I just felt like war. At this point in time black metal to me was Darkthrone, Emperor and Burzum. I had read Lords of Chaos. Black metal was a unique sound to me and it was a sound I liked, but novel in a way. It was truly evil, but it was sorta “Mortiis with the prosthetic nose” and sorta D&D most of the time. I dabbled in it. Jason was about to stick a tape in the deck— Death Has Made Its Call by Ashes. He introduced it as “the Ramones of black metal.” Were they half-retards playing metal? Was it gonna be some sorta joke? I hate most joke bands.

The tape started. I immediately tuned into the riff in drop D and the single notes sounding naturally tube distorted, four times over and then the beat kicked in, then a chilling black metal cry, grainy and distorted. The sound was like it was done on a cassette 4-track, lo-fi and compressed nicely. It was not that typical way of recording metal where everything is crisp and effects are high-tech, but it was not like Burzum or Darkthrone with all that amazing cavernous and ambient tape hiss. The first words of the album: “The end is near, I feel it closing in, like a hurricane…like God and forces gathering, it’s closer to a darker age.” Then part two of the song, melodic: “It feels like never-ending altars, like everlasting rain, it’s storming my emotions, its war in all men’s way.” The melodic part goes into half-time melodic thrash; I was thinking “I should steal this part for one of my songs.” Then the double kick drum and blast beat part, then back to the first part, rocking again, then a melodic breakdown. My ears were hooked. At the end I heard another guitar part to steal. I used variations of it in Lost Sounds songs—the perfect crime, as no garage rocker nerds, collector scum, punks or hipsters listened to black metal

I think this one song alone changed my songwriting structure forever. I learned to finish a song out with the “epic outro,” with harmonizing layered guitars, synths, and if I could recruit my friend Jonathan on cello for more escalating texture then all the better. The album continues, song two: “I’m your master, I rule your life, obey my wisdom, I am the antichrist…you don’t dare to disobey.” I’m engulfed not because I feel like an antichrist or anything in reality, but the song is just good and if black metal can be “catchy” it was. It gets me feeling evil though, and that’s a good feeling inside. My ears are peeled. The album continues with parts about Armageddon and war cries of “Worship Satan!” Every song a great guitar chord progression that merges with the next. It’s arrangement perfection. It’s beautiful like Black Sabbath is beautiful. It’s not ridiculous or fantasy-like. It’s corpsepaint with worn out Levis. It rocked.

(On a side note, I went to Norway for the first time on tour in September 2006. It is a lovely country. The people were kind and hospitable. Everyone seemed to have a healthy glow and I felt safe from crime when wandering the streets alone at night. There had been something like four homicides the past year in the whole country; three were car accidents, one a domestic violence case—not bad statistically compared to Memphis’s nearly one murder a day! But I swear that night after we played in Halden, Norway, a ghost haunted me. I walked out alone towards an old fortress on a hill and there was a bright moon in the sky with clouds racing over its glow; there, it was said, the Norwegian fortress held the skull of a Swedish king who had been captured during an ancient battle. I followed the moon up through the tiny town and up a hill to the fortress. I guess I breathed, just looked around, tried to take it all in. Then it sent me right back down the hill again with chills and my tail between my legs. I’m a skeptic, not a “mystical” person, but just then I certainly comprehended the evil that inspired Viking invasions of yesteryear and the church burnings of today. I could hear guitars screaming. But I wasn’t thinking of “Jesus Tod” or “Transilvanian Hunger,” I was thinking of Ashes. One of their songs was playing in my head.

Returning to the bar we had played at earlier, I told a local guy where I’d walked. He asked if I’d seen the Lady in White, the ghost who pined up there for her dead soldier. I don’t believe I’m one of those people with a sixth sense, but I was creeped out for the rest of the night, and I guess that night I did believe in the Lady. I slept with the sheets over my head.)

I’ve noticed that people who hate Death Has Made It’s Call are often annoyed by the distorted voice and the lo-fi quality. I dunno, I think it adds to it, but I can listen through lo-fi tape hiss and rumble anyway and not be distracted or disturbed. By song three the rock is obviously going to be relentless. More evil. Later in the album the singer lets you hear his regular voice as he talks through a breakdown: “Like a dream he came to me / I looked straight into his eyes / Give your body and your wisdom / He started to change into an abnormal being, screaming and shouting / I did not know what to do / He attacked my heart…crawling into my mind….” The harsh voice comes at me again and now it’s an immortal being with an army to crush its enemies. I’m there; I believe this guy. Four more killer tracks until the very last song, “Rock n Roll Witch.” It could be a Motorhead song! I couldn’t believe they screamed “ROCK ‘N’ ROLL!!” at the beginning. What was this stuff? I felt like if I was in this band I would just be banging my head all the time, never having to fake it even after the hundredth time.

It wasn’t hard to write “Satan Bought Me” for the first Lost Sounds album, Memphis Is Dead. It was sorta hard to get the people expecting Oblivians/’68 Comeback/Mummies/Cramps/Gories trashy rock ‘n’ roll not to hate us. God bless our friends that were into hardcore. I found my way of emanating the evil I needed to exorcise. It was like hearing Ashes was a gateway drug. I had already taken to excessive whiskey abuse, all-night parties, bloodying myself, confrontations and general self-destructiveness. This album exemplified it all for me: “A storm is closing in…it is here to destroy… it is here to kill.” Memphis is Dead had a black and white French castle tower on the front. On the back our faces were highly contrasted, a tribute to corpsepaint. The castle was a tribute to the Dark Ages.

Jason declared Lost Sounds to be black wave—black metal new wave. He meant it as a joke, but it stuck and became the title of out second album. Later I bought Ashes’ second album And the Angels Wept from Necropolis. It was harder to warm up to. The production includes a masterfully-executed guitar wanking intro, which I love, but it’s so guitar-geeky and the guitarist obviously has a rack of effects dialed in and layered to get the perfect solo. I took to the album despite its difference from the first and its lavender fairy forest airbrush t-shirt style cover art. I stole from it for the last Lost Sounds album—the song “Ophelia” comes from their track “Eternal Feelings.” I’m pretty sure Lost Sounds (now broken up since 2005) stole the verse melody from “Transilvanian Hunger” by Darkthrone too.

I still have yet to see a real black metal band live.

MP3: Lost Sounds - Satan Bought Me

After the breakup of Lost Sounds, Alicja Trout has kept busy with the River City Tanlines, Destruction Unit, Nervous Patterns and a record label/mailorder distro.

First there was the New York Times Magazine feature on “art metal.” More recently, they stuck Enslaved on the cover of their Arts section. Those sort of make sense, but this graphic turning up on the letters page of the Times‘ letters section (on Thanksgiving!) was a surprise:

I can’t say for sure that someone in the Times graphics department saw our powerviolence feature, although it’s worth noting that the genre has kinda been dead for a decade or so. It’s almost in the Despise You font, so maybe there’s a secret PV fan on staff.

By Staff, Strangeland Records

Ministry, The Last Sucker
Fans of Ministry, especially of the seminal Psalm 69, may approach The Last Sucker with a certain degree of skepticism; they’ve been let down too many times with the last decade’s worth of Ministry output, which, while heavy, didn’t seem to have much direction to it. The Last Sucker, on the other hand, feels more like a sequel to Psalm 69, which is fitting considering that just as the album’s theme is Bush II’s presidency, Psalm 69 expressed its anger, with equal venom, against the presidency of his father. The heavy, unrelenting guitar riffs on the opening track “Let’s Go” force you to shut up and listen to the rest of the album as it lashes out against Bush, Cheney (”The Dick Song”), greed and corruption, and so on. The whole album builds up to the final track, “End of Days Pt.2,” which samples, in its entirety, Eisenhower’s famous 1961 speech against the buildup of the military-industrial complex — it’s chilling to listen to as its accurate depiction of the future borders on the prophetic. It’s nice to know that music can still provide a soundtrack for our times and that it’s not all just sounds to soothe us on the way to the slaughter house. (Ryan Hill – Owner/Manager)

Destroy Destroy Destroy, Devour The Power
What happens when you take Children of Bodom, 3 Inches of Blood, a bit of Judas Priest and Iron Maiden, a dash of Amon Amarth and blend it all together with a huge spoonful of AWESOME? You get Destroy Destroy Destroy! On their debut for Metal Blade, these mighty warriors from Tennessee bring the metal fast and furious with an entire horde of orcs, rats and other medieval creatures in close pursuit. The songs are fast and full of enough fist-pumping energy to start a pit in your room/car/cubicle or wherever you’re listening. Great guitar work with plenty of solos and twin harmonies comprise the baseline for the songs, along with some great bass and double-kicks a plenty. Add some lightning fast keys into the battle and the musical assault for storming your next castle is ready. The lyrics deal with typical metal fare: beasts, gods, vermin, mutilated cranial orifices, Geishmal undead, and the like. Nothing says metal more than the Geishmal undead, that’s for sure. Plus, they have a song entitled “Ripped Apart By The Juggernaut Of Fornication”; it doesn’t get any more metal than this! (Ryon Sumner – Street Team Captain)

Monster Magnet, Superjudge
Superjudge is aclassic stoner/space metal release that’s usually overshadowed by the later more commercially successful Monster Magnet albums. Released in the middle of grunge breaking into the mainstream, Dave Wyndorf and company produced a masterpiece or a record that was buried by flannel shirts and teen angst. Blending together the best of metal, 70’s psychedelia and space rock, every song hits with a wall of fuzz, down-tuned bass, Ed Mundell’s almost constant soloing and Dave’s haunting/trippy vocals. It’ll take you back to the early days of Sabbath and Hawkwind, what metal used to be before it started getting flooded with ‘core bands. From the opening guitar of “Twin Cyclops” until the final softer “Black Balloon,” this album is like a long mid-tempo flight through space, round the planets and back with some sleazy Stacia flight attendants serving shots of Absinthe to ensure you’ll enjoy the trip. Add into the mix two great covers (re-imaginations of the originals is a better description), Hawkwind’s “Brainstorm” and Willie Dixon’s “Evil,” and you have the perfect album for drinking or smoking away a Saturday night. (Ryon Sumner – Street Team Captain)

Behold…The Arctopus, Skullgrid
I’ve recently had conversations with other local metalheads and band members, and many of them are becoming bored with metal these days. It seems that there’s a lot of rehashing being done. This is not the case with Behold…The Arctopus. Their newest album, Skullgrid, is something completely new and totally addictive. It’s innovative and never boring. I bought it two weeks ago and it hasn’t left my stereo since. These guys are expert musicians and have a real feel for what is new and untried in metal. I’d highly suggest it to anyone. (Dan Boyd – Supervisor)

Strangeland Records is located at 7203 Columbia Pike (Second Floor), Annandale, VA 22003, (703) 750-1571 / 1-877-505-3282. Free shipping on all orders over $20!

This might be blog worthy, or at least potentially embarrassing. Anyway, as some of you may or may not know, Paradise Lost is one of my favorite metal bands of all time. My good friend Scott and I, who have both worshiped PL since 1991 or so, attended their FIRST EVER US headlining show at Euro-metal temple Jaxx this past Sunday in Springfield, Virginia. This was only the band’s third US tour in their 19 years of existence, so we were obviously already psyched out our minds for this. But when they busted out the title track from 1991’s life-defining Gothic album, all bets were off.

As you’ll see, I’m head banging and fist flying near guitarist Gregor Mackintosh. Scott busts in and totally dominates after the solo. We are hopelessly lame and eternally devoted.

By Phil Vera, Crom / Despise You

So Sotoquest (aka the Michael Anthony of powerviolence) and I showed up to the warehouse relatively early—for what reason I don’t know. We knew that California Love canceled and that the show was going to start later, but we still headed down there. To our surprise there were already a buttload of kids hanging out and arriving in droves. I had to piss so fucking bad when we first got there, so I hauled ass into the place and barely made my way past the skate ramp (the place consists of a half pipe which doubles as a stage, and as the night progressed I really didn’t think anybody took into account that there was a stage) and into the bathroom, which looked like it had been hit with a dirty bomb full of diarrhea, piss and vomit. On my way out I forgot about the ramp, lost my footing and ate shit. I actually reached out, trying to grab onto some imaginary railing, but instead slid down and sort of spun 90 degrees. No bands had even played yet. My shame was soon flushed down the toilet and all was good as I ran into Grandpa who was looking debonair in his trademark hat, beer and blue jacket. Also Captain Cabron (whose name I just learned while writing this shit) showed up with a boa constrictor beer bong around his neck to the sounds of yells from people hoping to hit the beer bong, but I don’t think the Captain was going to just let anyone hit that shit.

Semtex Vest from Santa Ana (featuring dudes from Dead America and Winterthrall) started the show with their brand of grindcore mayhem. Final Draft from Inglewood fucked shit up and had a whole crew from their hometown going apeshit. Crom (featuring members of Tom Berenger Escape Plan, Christopher Upside Down Cross and Beat the Earth) ransacked the stage with a rotten stench, some thunderdust and a whole lot of nonsense. Crimson heckled the crowd and held the mic like a beer can, screaming, “Shoot arrows, eat pussy!” which set off a bunch of beers flying through the air. We played mostly songs of our new record Hot Sumerian Nights. Our set was cut short due to my amp drawing mud prematurely. Lack of Interest, featuring Bob “the Butcher” Loi on drums, had the kids singing along and raising their fingers. Maybe I was already fucked up by then, but I couldn’t figure out what they were pointing at. They played songs off their new record, Take Another Step.

By the time Despise You went on, the majority of the crowd finally made its way completely onto the stage. I could feel people breathing on me they were so close. I had to use another guitar head for the Despise You set and made the mistake of running my whole arm across all the knobs, turning them up to 11. As I realized later when I was five feet away from the amp and not within reach, the fucking reverb was all the way up. We ripped through the set and played about half of the songs off the West Side Horizons record. Shit kept getting unplugged and I had a china cymbal in front of me the whole time. I had this fear of being cut in half by it. Singer Chris Pessimiser threw out a home made Despise You skateboard deck designed by renowned artist Carlos Sanchez and apparently the guy who nabbed it got chased out the fucking building. Midway through the set we were down to one mic for three people. We must have looked like Journey standing around the fucking mic, sharing that shit. People were jumping all over the fucking place, knocking shit and each over everywhere. I heard from all kinds of people that came out of the fracas with black eyes, bloody lips and steamy asses.

To summarize the night, there were a good number of drunk fucks, a few barfings, a whole bunch of unpluggings, a couple of fights, pushing, shoving, pointing, some equipment failures, a couple of misunderstandings, yelling, necking, some marauding, a few lovers’ spats, some feuding and quarreling, cursing, a little chivalry, some fierce pitting and a couple of white t-shirts. Probably the most amazing show I’ve ever been a part of.

Blood Freak - Gobble Up Your Guts Pt. 2 (Revenge of the Turkey Monster)

Even Decibot knows that Thanksgiving isn’t complete without a turkey, so here’s Matt Heafy of Trivium treating an audience to off-key snippets of Green Day, Blink-182 and “Free Bird” before launching into an obligatory cover of “Master of Puppets.” With members of Sanctity and Annihilator, the entire road crew, some random street urchins and a talking grilled cheese sandwich joining in. Decibot is just kidding about that last part, but Trivium has been treading water for years with this Metallica classic as a set closer. No joke: Decibot is still trying to compute how Trivium fast-forwarded from Master of Puppets to St. Anger in the span of just two records. The new stuff is less palatable than a bowl full of brussels sprouts, but if Matt Heafy and the gang returned to retro and released a note-for-note cover of Ride the Lightning next, Decibot would totally buy that.