I’d like to take a quick second to thank psychedelic bands for inventing heavy metal. Totally, totally appreciate it. From the wild screams of Roky Erickson and Arthur Brown to the heavy neo-classical worship of Black Sabbath to the hopped up chugging of Blue Cheer and Deep Purple to the outright Satan worshiping of Coven. I just want to say thanks. For tripping balls, getting bummed and inventing metal, I toast you. That said, in addition to bands that invented metal, I’m also a huge fan of post-pych/proto-metal bands that take psyche, pop, or soul music, slow it down, Hammond it up, and make it heavy. I posted some Child a little while back, they’re good at that. Manslaughter (the Sexecutioner) posted some Suck the other day, they rule at that too. But the kings of mega-heavy-slowed-down-screwed-and-chopped covers of 60’s classics has got to be the ever timeless Vanilla Fudge.
shredder shredder shredder shredder
You read IC so I’m assuming your tastes are both refined and sophisticated, generally falling somewhere between Burzum and Bernard Herman (someone please mash up some Virgard Herzum). Anyway, as I know you to be an extremely well informed and cultured readership, I’m sure 90% of you have been sitting on an original vinyl pressing of this record since 3rd grade and the last thing you need is for some 14-yearold-pop-punker to tell you to check out Carmine Appice shredding balls on the drum set.
BJOTR:
To be honest, I just blew an entire work day composing 2,500 words about this band but lets face facts: I’m not a very good writer and you’re not the worlds most accomplished reader. Plus, like, why am I even trying to sell you on this stuff? I don’t care whether or not you spend your day downloading amazing records. In fact, don’t. Stop reading blogs, get off the internet and go get laid. I’m deleting my masters thesis on Vanilla Fudge, walking out of work early and having pussy for dinner. FUCK OFF.
We will never be this good at anything.
About a week ago, Vince Martell's band played a street fair here in Brooklyn, and had a killer band behind him. He belted out the classics in between calling out the raffle winners and giving the score of the Yankees game. Oh how the mighty have fallen.
ReplyDeleteHit the showers hippie.
ReplyDeleteYou are a man for this post. much appreciated!
ReplyDelete