Meet JoshofDarkness. Metal’s answer to Rodney King has taken a break from updating his Facebook account to issue this urgent plea for solidarity within the metal community. Things we learned from watching this video:
1) Mushroomhead suck, but they’re not really metal.
2) Slipknot suck, but not nearly as much as Mushroomhead.
3) Trivium suck, possibly as much as Slipknot, but that’s ok “because they’re doing what they love to do and living their dream.”
Please note that while JoshofDarkness tells us that we should approve of any genre that “has ‘metal’ in it,” he frequently averts his gaze from the camera, avoids making direct statements and constantly refers to the “hatred passion” of his friends. Either JoshofDarkness is lying or he realizes early on (check out the agonizing pause at the 2:15 mark) that his position is indefensible. It’s ok to have opinions, dude!
I’ve often wondered if the late Øystein Aarseth (aka Euronymous) really believed in the ‘no fun’ part of his label’s edict, ‘No mosh, no core, no trends, no fun!’ OK, I get the ‘no mosh’ and ‘no core’ parts. And the ‘no trend’ portion of the slogan is well-intended, but unavoidable. Who doesn’t say trendy exclamations like “Black metal ist Krieg!” or “Kvlt!” when they wake up to Robin Meade or Betty Nguyen? It’s part of my morning pre-work ritual. I’m sure it’s part of yours, too. Seriously though. ‘No fun?’ Come on, Øystein!
Well, as much as I’d like to honor Aarseth, I think he was lying about the ‘no fun’ bit. Before being stabbed to death by Burzum hobo Varg Vikernes, we’re pretty sure the father of Norwegian black metal really wanted a vacation. It probably wasn’t to Euro Disney, ‘cause no one wants to go to France. And it probably wasn’t Walt Disney World Resort, ‘cause it’s trendy — Tom Brady’s been there three fucking times since Aarseth’s passing! Three! I think, deep down in my heartest of hearts, Mr. Black Metal was looking for something more secluded. A place where he could let his proverbial hair down, unmask, turn that frown upside down, and still maintain his too-true profile. Norway’s got fjords, mountains, rapids, and all that shit, but what they don’t have is Satan’s Kingdom State Recreation Area. Located in New Hartford, Connecticut, SKSRA is an unholy mecca for nature-minded black metal thrill-jockeys. That’s right. Øystein wanted to go tubing. Read deep into the lyrics for “Deathcrush.” He’s talking about getting smashed up against schist and other metamorphic rocks while careening balls-out down the Farmington River.
An obscure U.K. outfit active mostly in the second half of the ‘80s, Head of David’s main claim to fame is having ex-Napalm Death man Justin Broadrick in their ranks for a couple of years before he moved on to form the mighty Godflesh and later Jesu. The next most notable piece of trivia in a list totalling two items is the fact that Fear Factory covered “Dog Day Sunrise” from Dustbowl on their 1995 Demanufacture album. Head of David’s sound is almost impossible to categorise. Although it’s a standard guitar/bass/drums/vocals setup, the riffs, structures and overall atmosphere are rather strange. Their thanks list includes a nod to “Big Black Sabbath” which at least provides a couple of pointers – there’s a ragged, sub-industrial feel to some of the music not unlike Big Black, and listening to “Ditchwater,” it’s clear that they’ve heard Black Sabbath’s “Zero the Hero” at least once. And, of course, Dustbowl was produced by none other than Steve Albini, now best known for his knob twiddling for Nirvana, but in times gone by the mastur-mind behind – that’s right – Big Black. Head of David recorded several albums and EPs (including two sessions for BBC Radio 1 legend John Peel) of varying styles and with varying degrees of success, but in 2008, the only catalog entry to really pass muster is Dustbowl, a bizarre, claustrophobic, unsettling, gloomy glimpse into, well, I’m not really sure what.
Remember when you first bought Death Leprosy? Awesomeness. Remember the stench of the j-card? Nasty. Remember what your mom said the first time she heard “Pull the Plug” or “Primitive Ways?” No, it wasn’t, “Johnny, turn it down!” Or, “Close the door when you’re playing that racket!!!” It was, “Who sings like that? Cookie Monster?”
Mom was way more prescient than we ever imagined.
For more Muppets Deci-love, click these links. Mom might even think they’re funny.
Q: Would you classify this as a “metal” jar of peanut butter?
A: Peanut butter is as hardcore as it gets.
Q: Were any peanuts harmed in the production of this delicious product?
A: Thanks for your interest. Shut the fuck up!
Q: I’m interested in bidding on this item. But did Nate Newton also stick his fingers in this peanut butter? Someone on Lambgoat told me that he doesn’t wash after he wipes.
A: I can assure you that I watched Jacob Bannon dip his index and middle fingers into this very jar. There may be trace amounts of his saliva on the sides — what a deal! I can not be held responsible for what happened after the jar entered the pit.
Loudblast - Sublime Dementia 1993 (Semetary)
Appearing with three tracks on Century Media’s cool In The Eyes of Death compilation in 1991, Loudblast were virtually unknown outside the four corners of France even though they’d released two full-lengths and a string of demos prior to Sublime Dementia. Loudblast twisted Schuldiner’s brutal/melodic idiosyncrasies (from Human) into an always-moving, instrumentally adept edifice, which, for the time, blurred the lines between tech-death and thrash. Guitarists Stéphane Buriez and Nicolas Leclercq are particularly impressive if, like this release, unsung.
Sceptic - Pathetic Being 2001 (Empire)
Vader, Behemoth, and Decapitated are on your radar, but Krakow-based Sceptic, who still avoid the attention of larger labels with deeper pockets, aren’t. Well, Sceptic should be one of those blips if scholastic death is part of your daily mind-exercising classload. Guitarists Czesiek Semla and Jacek Hiro studied hard and got good grades at the Schuldiner University of Professional Death Metal. Like their late professor, these two guys bafflingly assemble head-scratchin’ songs with blazingly good solos. There’s a reason there aren’t any hot girls who know what scalars, vectors and matrices mean.
Afflicted - Prodigal Sun 1992 (Nuclear Blast)
In the years before after its release Prodigal Sun was largely ignored due to the fact that it never fit nicely in any category. Too obstreperous for the br00tal crowd and too coarse to the sensibilities of Cynic devotees. Sort of like Disharmonic Orchestra’s Not to be Undimensional Conscious, Afflicted’s debut existed singularly and no one—even the band abandoned the Prodigal Sun sound for trad metal on 1995’s equally ignored Dawn of Glory—bothered to attempt to replicate the Stockholm + kitchen sink-sound since. “Harbouring the Soul” alone is worth sitting through the rest of the album’s remaining wayward 35 minutes.
Quo Vadis - Forever… 1996 (VomiT)
Quebec is the strangest place on the planet. Stranger than Ulan Bator even. Coined after a Latin phrase meaning, “Where are you going?,” Quo Vadis is part of the same scene that birthed such eight-armed/legged things like Voivod, Gorguts, Cryptopsy, The UneXpect, and Beneath the Massacre. On debut Forever… Quo Vadis declared “nous sommes uniques!” through the incorporation of violin and opera into what is highly accomplished, technically demanding and mind-contorting death. Good luck finding Forever… on CD, but it’s damn good.
Sadist - Crust 1997 (Displeased) Crust is what I’d call the pivotal, if criminally ignored, release by Genoa-based Sadist. Clearly, the Italians took a few structure ideas from Destroy Erase Improve, but as an album it’s wholly unique, with boppin’/slidin’ bass lines (think “Uriboric Forms”/ “Sentiment”), piercing, atmospheric keyboard layers, and obtuse, grinding riffs with a Holdsworth touch on the solos. A more direct comparison is Australia’s Alchemist. Sadist, however, opted for the cold and clinical on Crust.
Australian death metal weirdos Portal, whose Outre record came in at #8 on Decibel’s Top 40 Albums of 2007 list, recently played their first live gig since the release of said album. I can’t make out the rest of the band in this image, but I’m hopping the guitarist strapped on a toaster and bassist opted for an oscillating fan to round out their headgear. Lampshades are totally for pussies!
And now, a moment of silence for the record industry. Sure, the 8-track got overtaken by the cassette quickly. Bet you didn’t see that one coming. And the whole “enhanced CD” idea was a total dog. But we had some good times together, didn’t we? Anyway, it’s not you and your outmoded business model — it’s our own impatience. Why go through the annoyance of following your rules when artists can effectively cut out the middleman (and the whole indentured servitude part)? With MySpace and Facebook and YouTube, artists can release their own music and handle their own promotion with a minimum of effort. The label part is an afterthought (Mindless Self Indulgence as a textbook example), and record labels are looking to sign artists who have already done their A&R work for ‘em — the next Marié Digby and Soulja Boy.
And how’s this for weirdo irony: Epitaph’s recent signing I Set My Friends on Fire is the first case of a MySpace sensation inking a deal based entirely on a reinterpretation of another MySpace sensation’s work (a batshit crazy “screamo” cover of Soulja Boy’s “Crank Dat”). Good for the kids in I Set My Friends on Fire for taking advantage of those desperately out-of-touch carpetbaggers at Epitaph and grabbing the loot — they’d probably find other ways of peddling their wares without a deal, but now they can make music with less distractions. As you can see from the video above, Matt and Nabil seem like pretty funny guys and obviously don’t take themselves too seriously. And the songs on their MySpace page — despite drawing from a somewhat limited palette — are proof that ironic screamo is the only tolerable form of screamo. Since society is getting dumber by the minute, Matt and Nabil could make a killing amongst their 89,000 MySpace friends; when the actual record comes out in Fall 2008, though, they may be the only ones laughing.
