We think Immortal could cover Aqua’s “Barbie Girl” and come out the other end unscathed. Well, reasonably unscathed.

Anyway, +1 for the Marduk shirt, dude.

By xSHAT_CREWx and ChemicallyImbalancedSloth, on behalf of Century

1) 400-1100 AD: What is pretty much considered the dark ages, when a black plague spread and made a lot of people sick, kind of like Black Ocean is currently doing. But at least this was spread by rats, which are a few steps above Carson Slovak and make less women shriek upon sight. This is also a time when the Templar Knights went on Crusades trying to conquer new lands and convert/gain followers, there was a lot of faith and failure, but not as much failure as on Carson’s band’s CD of the same name. Carson Slovak is also on a Crusade, to gain fans and followers everywhere he goes, but his crusade is a much more pathetic one: he begs, pleads, makes offers and deals, and gets really hurt when someone dislikes him. I don’t think you’d ever see a Templar Knight as fazed as Carson Slovak gets when someone disagrees with what he’s preaching/peddling. A Templar Knight would simply put the infidel to rest with a sword.

2) Century 21 “handyman’s special” homes section: These are diamonds in the rough, and these are simply better because unlike Carson’s band, it takes a lot less work to turn these into something worthwhile and nice. It takes Carson Slovak literally months to work his “studio magic” (if you can call it that) to turn a Century song into something remotely listenable. Have you heard the raw product before the “tools” Carson’s daddy bought for his lil’ handyman come into effect? Carson sounds like the pimply faced teen from the Simpsons that you may see at a gas station, movie theater, or drive-thru. It takes a real professional to re-work these homes into magic, unlike Carson Slovak who records shit bands that still sound like shit, especially his own. Recording Century is like kicking a hole through your own wall.

3) 20th Century Fox produced Meet The Spartans: Even though it might not be the greatest achievement in film history, at least you get to see some masculine men with great physiques do battle and entertain you at the same time commedically. When you go to a Century show, you see nothing but a bunch of lanky, skinny, nerdy, poorly-dressed bald guys with beards jumping around like retarded monkeys and yelling stuff about “it gets worse.” Yes, I’m pretty sure it does get worse, Carson. With every song it gets worse. Unlike a Century show, when I walked out of this movie I did not demand my money back.

4) Buick Century: A solid American built automobile. Not poorly constructed and poorly written songs by some Eurotrash. I mean, “Slovak”? What is that? Bulgarian? This car has also been reinvented many times since the ’40s and has satisfied many loyal customers up until the late ’90s, while Carson Slovak churns out the same old garbage, and probably won’t last another year. Buick Centuries from the ’40s are regarded as classics and even being bought, worked on and rebuilt 60 years later and still kicking. Two years from now you’ll see a Century CD in a used bin for $2.99, and nobody will remember who this band was. I mean, come on. Solid materials, manufactured in top of the line General Motors plants by hardworking Americans. Not some RAH RAH JUD JUD JUD crap made by “ESPs”, “Fenders” and “Pearl Drums” by some Bulgarians. I mean who has even heard of a Pearl drum kit or a Fender?

5) Century Typewriters: Following in the footsteps of their printing press ancestors, typewriters have served society as an outlet for coherent thought for ages. Some of the greatest minds in history have recorded profound and often relevant thoughts using this revolutionary device. Could some of our most beloved novels been written so easily and made readily available to the masses if not for the typewriter? I think not. Unlike the aforementioned, finely-tuned, useful machine, Carson Slovak’s latest “musical” endeavor, Century, does not convey profound ideas nor a shred of relevance to our society. Carson (a soggy bag of awkward nu metal Downs syndrome) couldn’t force a coherent thought into his lyrics with the jaws of life. Century’s only use is to clear people out of bars at closing time and make dogs howl with an affront to the auditory nerves. Typewriters may produce a mildly irritating noise in their operation but if Carson had written his musings with a typewriter instead of spewing them into a microphone we wouldn’t need to pack gauze into our ears to stop the bleeding.

Century’s new record Black Ocean is available now on Prosthetic. The Lambgoat message board is also seeking members to join the friendliest community on the ‘net. Sign up for an account and tell ‘em Carson Slovak sent ya!

Can you believe that the going rate for one ticket to see Dethklok/ Soilent Green/ Chimaira is fellating a banana and sniffing someone’s soiled panties? David Cross had it right, dudes: morning drivetime radio is the pits.

Wal-Mart is, like Dick Cheney and Karl Rove, Lucifer incarnate. The iniquitous, morally bankrupt, and malicious discount department store chain is responsible for many ethical and cultural war crimes. So, while the retailer perpetually sharpens its diamond and sorrow-encrusted pitchfork in pursuit of greater profits and fewer employee benefits, Wal-Mart, which un-fucking-fortunately is the largest music outlet in the U.S., is setting its burning agate eyes on the music industry. Exclusive deals with The Eagles, whose Long Road Out of Eden was the third-best selling album in 2007 according to the Wall Street Journal, Garth Brooks, Journey, Fleetwood Mac, country music star Taylor Swift, and now AC/DC started a heinous trend.

Best Buy, another music retailer big gun, has had exclusive content deals with labels before, but Best Buy hasn’t, at least to my knowledge, done music and potato chip, fragrance, and children’s books tie-ins to help sell music. According to the June 9th edition of the Wall Street Journal, Wal-Mart is planning on packaging music, like Tim McGraw’s Greatest Hits: Limited Edition, with non-music, music- or artist-branded items. Tim McGraw’s CD is being sold as a ‘combo pack’ with Tim McGraw’s Spicy Jalapeño Fritos for $12. That’s just ugly. And it’s only the tip of the iceberg. Is Journey’s Revelation 2CD set going to get sold with a can of sweet carbonated irrelevance? Or will Wal-Mart take the lowest road possible and sell AC/DC’s upcoming album with a Bon Scott blow-up doll that says things like, “Oy, Mate! Git yer Bloomin’ Onion at Outback!” or “After I’m done rockin’ my hair needs Aussie Moist Dry/Damaged Hair shampoo!”?

Sure, physical music sales have been spiraling downward since 2000, but product tie-ins are shallow and suck whatever cultural value music holds in today’s increasingly artless society. Even though there are numerous ways (online, next town over, etc.) to acquire music, Wal-Mart is, un-fucking-fortunately, the only venue some people have, which means for those kids who live in Bumfuck Egypt, the next Children of Bodom or Dimmu Borgir CD, if Wal-Mart deems it fit for sale, will probably have a product tie-in. Like Alexi Laiho hair dye. Or Shagrath-shaped soap. The future of music never looked so bright.

Arsonist, racist, Nazi sympathizer, and controversial black metaller Varg Vikernes (35) was recently denied parole for a second time according to Norwegian newspaper VG Nett. Even though the Artist Formerly Known As Count Grishnackh has served two-thirds of his 21 year sentence, the Norwegian Ministry of Justice was quoted as saying Vikernes was, “too dangerous for freedom” and “too dangerous to be released into the community,” part which is due to a 2003 attempt to evade the remainder of his jail time. Mr. Burzum was caught with a stolen car, a fake passport, a Global Positioning System, and various firearms. Bad, bad wolfie!

For as benign (and old) as Vikernes pretends, his actions and words point more to self-preservation and legacy continuation than the well-being of his wife and two children. If he was more of a man, he’d shut up, do his jail time, get out early, take care of his family, and fade away in a life that focuses on consuming controlled quantities of lefse, sild, and Cool Ranch Doritos in some remote village. As for his music career, after Dauði Baldrs and Hliðskjálf, it’s doubtful anyone, even his sycophantic followers, will tolerate yet another Faxanadu soundtrack attempt.

Yeah, the Deciblog focuses on music, but whenever we find a cool related item to talk about we will do so just ’cause it tickles our fancy. Upon hearing the new magnificent Nachtmystium (available now in North America, so go fucking get it!) album, Assassins: Black Meddle Pt. 1, blasting in my office, a co-worker of mine smiled and said, “You like this stuff?” I responded, “Yup! I do.” We exchanged metal likes and dislikes and then with a devilish grin said, “You should see this Flash site I just found.” I figured it was animated porn. 99.9% of the Internet is porn anyway, right? Well, he directed me to Inventor or Serial Killer. The idea is to identify which ugly mug is either a brilliant benevolent dude or a brilliant malevolent dude. Then Inventor or Serial Killer will give you some ‘motherly’ advice based on the outcome of your decisions. I got 5/10. Not sure where that puts me, but I’d imagine the result is going to make the next staff meeting with Decibel head honcho Albert a little awkward.

Click here to take the Inventor or Serial Killer quiz. Let us know how you do.

Last month, the reformed version of Negative Approach joined host Brian Turner at the WFMU studio en route to a headlining gig at Seth Putnam’s wedding reception. Which is stranger: the lead singer of A.C. stumbling upon the one person in the world who isn’t utterly repulsed by him, or a first-wave hardcore band that didn’t totally screw the pooch on a “reunion”? Negative Approach circa 2008 features original singer John Brannon, original drummer Chris Moore and two other capable fill-ins, but the line-up (as it always is with hardcore and punk rock) is immaterial — Negative Approach was always a about Brannon’s powderkeg personality and whomever was brave enough to stand in the line of fire. Positive response from the Touch & Go 25th Anniversary party in September 2006 has led to the release of a DVD and a series of appearances at All Tomorrows Parties and SxSW as well as dates with spiritual heirs Fucked Up and Clockcleaner. Hopefully, Brannon and company take this as far as they can — dudes have still got it. Take a listen to this blistering live set (16 songs in 25 minutes!) and judge for yourselves.

MP3: Negative Approach Live on WFMU 5/14/08

Saint Vitus, Die Healing 1995 (Hellhound)

I’m probably gonna get shot down in flames on this one, but I reckon Die Healing is Saint Vitus’ best album. Recorded after living legend Scott ‘Wino’ Weinrich had departed to reform The Obsessed, Die Healing saw Vitus reunited with original vocalist Scott Reagers for some of the most shit-scary moments of their entire career. It could hardly have been released at a worse time: trad metal was well and truly on its arse in the mid ’90s and doom metal – always deeply unfashionable – was several years away from attaining the kudos and air of knowing cool it now enjoys. Thus, it was a short-lived reunion, but there’s simply no denying the seismic force of these rumbling odes to pain, suffering and misery. Most punters will point to the Wino-fronted Born Too Late as the band’s finest hour, but if you’ve got the patience and the cash – this scarce album has never been reissued – unearthing a copy of Die Healing might just change your mind.

Many fans adore the lo-fi fuzz of the band’s early releases, but if you’ve ever struggled with what by mainstream standards is just plain bad production, Die Healing is where Vitus finally got their studio shit sorted. With veteran knob-twiddler Harris Johns (Voivod, Kreator, Celtic Frost) at the controls, everything that previously threatened to be heavier than thou on a Vitus record is suddenly reanimated like a T Rex with a serious hangover. Never ones for complex arrangements or fussy embellishments, Die Healing nevertheless strips the band’s stark, minimalist bludgeon even further back to absolute bare bones, its skeletal riffs and volcanic rhythm section the very epitome of impending doom. The returning Reagers, meanwhile, turns in a terrifying tour de force, his haunted, agonizing howls plumbing dark depths of despair which sound all too real. “Let The End Begin,” “Sloth” and the harrowing “In The Asylum” are particular highlights – if you can call them that – but overall it’s a near-faultless epitaph with which to mark the passing of a truly great band who struggled against apathy and indifference from cradle to grave.

In keeping with past efforts, Die Healing deals in death and destruction on more than one level. It’s not enough that the world is totally fucked and we’re all gonna die horribly; in the meantime there’s always addiction, depression and mental illness to tide us over. “Special thanks to God” reads the sleeve credits. Never let it be said that doom bands don’t have a sense of humour. Although – as per fucking usual – Die Healing largely slipped by unnoticed under the mainstream radar, it was a fitting headstone for what many consider to be the best doom metal band this doomed planet has ever produced.