Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Okay, I already know what you're thinking... "HACKSAW TO THE THROAT"? Really? What the fuck? These guys must play 10-second grindcore songs about eating babies or something, right? Either that or they're some sort of floppy-banged "deathcore" band. Ugh. What the fuck Cobras, where do you get off shoveling this tripe on us?!
Let me just stop you right there, dicknose. Hacksaw To The Throat are most definitely NOT what you're expecting them to be. Formed in 1999 between SF and Oakland, the band broke up shortly after the release of their second full-length back in 2007, and I discovered them only just recently as I stalked their drummer Justin (an absolute RIPPER) in pursuit of a musical collaboration. This was a band that embraced the concepts of "progress" and "change", evolving from a pretty standard 2 -piece grindcore band to a fully-realized (and grippingly intense) death metal band on their first album to a completely psychedelic (but still painfully brutal) experimental/progressive/whatevercore outfit on their final release. By the end of their career, Hacksaw were writing ten minute epics that migrated from screeching and blastbeats to clean melodic guitar parts to crushing doom to lengthy classical-tinged piano piece and back again... Without sounding disjointed or losing momentum.
Yes, their album covers, song names, and band logo might be pretty questionable as well. But give this band a chance. This is some truly epic, gnarly, blistering, barbaric shit -- an underappreciated Bay Area metal gem. R.I.P.H.T.T.T.
TEAR MY EYES OUT... (2003)
H.T.T.T. Myspace / Last.FM
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Current obsession: BILL FUCKING HICKS.
Why? Because no one else is funny compared to Bill Hicks.
No one else is mean compared to Bill Hicks.
No one else is smart compared to Bill Hicks.
No one straddled the line between VISCERAL and CEREBRAL like Bill Hicks.
No one else stuck it to The Man like Bill Hicks.
Squeegee your third eye, fucker. Let's take a trip.
"You never see a positive drug story on the news. They always have the same LSD story. You've all seen it: "Today a young man on acid...thought he could fly...jumped out of a building...what a tragedy!" What a dick. He's an idiot. If he thought he could fly why didn't he take off from the ground first? Check it out? You don't see geese lined up to catch elevators to fly south; they fly from the fucking ground. He's an idiot. He's dead. Good! We lost a moron? Fucking celebrate. There's one less moron in the world... Wouldn't you like to see a positive LSD story on the news? To base your decision on information rather than scare tactics and superstition?, perhaps? Wouldn't that be interesting? Just for once?
Today, a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration – that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively. There's no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we're the imagination of ourselves. Here's Tom with the weather."
"I loved when Bush came out and said, "We are losing the war against drugs." You know what that implies? There's a war being fought, and the people on drugs are winning it."
"They're putting the cart before the horse on this pornography issue. Playboy doesn't cause sexual thoughts. Sexual thoughts exist and, therefore, there is Playboy. Do you see? … You know what causes sexual thoughts? I'm gonna clear the air for you tonight. I'm gonna end this debate, hopefully once and for all while on this planet, 'cause outer space awaits our presence, we are better and more unique creatures than this and all eternity is our playground, so let me go ahead and clear this one issue up once and for all and let's move on to real issues. Can we? Great.
Here's what causes sexual thoughts: having a dick."
Apparently there is a Bill Hicks biopic in the works. Russell Crowe is supposed to star. JUST SAY NO.
"Folks, it's time to evolve. That's why we're troubled. You know why our institutions are failing us, the church, the state, everything's failing? It's because, um – they're no longer relevant. We're supposed to keep evolving. Evolution did not end with us growing opposable thumbs. You do know that, right? There's another 90 percent of our brains that we have to illuminate."
"People pay lip service to saving the planet, but they don't – they fail to make the big leap that if you want to save the planet, kill your fucking self. The planet will be saved without you. And what a delightful place it'll be. Welcome. It's a new thing I'm working on, called "The Comedy of Hate". Join in."
"I'll show you politics in America. Here it is, right here. "I think the puppet on the right shares my beliefs." "I think the puppet on the left is more to my liking." "Hey, wait a minute, there's one guy holding out both puppets!" "Shut up! Go back to bed, America. Your government is in control. Here's Love Connection. Watch this and get fat and stupid. By the way, keep drinking beer, you fucking morons."
"Rick Astley? Have you seen this banal incubus at work? Boy, if this guy isn't heralding Satan's imminent approach to Earth, huh. "Don't ever wanna make you cry, never wanna make you sigh … never gonna break your heart" … oh, I wouldn't worry about that without a dick, buddy. You got a corn nut! You got a clit! You're not even a guy! You're an AIDS germ that got off a slide! They're puttin' music to AIDS germs, they're puttin' a drum machine behind them in a metronome beat and Ted Turner's colorizing 'em, God damn it!"
PLAY FROM YOUR FUCKING HEART
"They tell us "Rock'n'roll is the devil's music." Well, let's say we know that rock is the the devil's music, and we know that it is, for sure... At least he fuckin' jams! If it's a choice between eternal Hell and good tunes, and eternal Heaven and New Kids on the fuckin' Block...I'm gonna be surfin' on the lake of fire, rockin' out."
"I think it's interesting the two drugs that are legal, alcohol and cigarettes, two drugs that do absolutely nothing for you at all; and the drugs that might open your mind up to realize how badly you're being fucked every day of your life? … Those drugs are against the law. He-heh, coincidence?
...I'm glad mushrooms are against the law, because I took them one time, and you know what happened to me? I laid in a field of green grass for four hours going, "My God! I love everything." Yeah, now if that isn't a hazard to our country … how are we gonna keep building nuclear weapons, you know what I mean? What's gonna happen to the arms industry when we realize that we're all one?!"
"Go back to bed, America. Your government has figured out how it all transpired. Go back to bed, America. Your government is in control again. Here. Here's American Gladiators. Watch this, shut up. Go back to bed, America. Here is American Gladiators. Here is 56 channels of it! Watch these pituitary retards bang their fucking skulls together and congratulate you on living in the land of freedom. Here you go, America! You are free to do as we tell you! You are free to do what we tell you!"
Rant In E-Minor (1997)
Arizona Bay (1997)
(the government killed Bill Hicks)
Apparently, in 1987, an enterprising young son surreptitiously recorded his father as he attempted to repair a piano. For ten solid minutes the father lays out a steady stream of profanities ranging from the milquetoast Ned Flanders end of the spectrum to out and out Raymond & Peter nastiness. The combination of the two from one mouth is absolutely pant wetting at times, such as when our protagonist locks onto a repeated "Gosh Darn It!!" after having been laying out a heavy stream of "You Motherfucker" style potty mouth. For better or worse, the piano itself is never heard throughout the recording. The closest thing we get to hearing it are repeated strikes with what sounds like a hammer against maybe the piano's frame, eventually resulting in pieces of wood falling to the floor.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
But you guys don't need to worry, I-Doser is HELLA MELLOW. PS, if you're interested in a "job" DEALING I-Doser:
Here's a hard-to-find blast from the East Bay crustpunk past, Oakland's Ojorojo and their only (I think) full-length recording Can You Keep Your Sanity?. I've got to thank my Bro Gordon up in the frigid mountain realms of Amador County for unearthing this album and sending it my way, it's a big fat helping of warm, fuzzy senior-year nostalgia, all rolled up in a ferocious ball of blistering feedback and teenage angst. If you dig ugly 90's HC along the lines of Eldopa/1332 or Filth you're in for a real treat. Ojorojo pack the same sick, sludgy punch, but with the added treat of chaotic male/female vocals and a slew of well-chosen samples (the extended bit at the beginning of "Broken World", sampled from THX 1138, still gives me chills).
An absolute crusterpiece. Cobras = stoked. Fuck yeah.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Shelby posted some TRANSCHAMPS a while back so I’ll my have my fist meet his in mid air and we’ll bump like bros with this fun little record from 2004. GOLD, by THE FUCKING AM.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Anyways, RXYZXXXYYRXYZZZR were looking for a vocalist back then, and according to another message I've received from Illogical Bro (and XYXYXYZRZYXRZYXYRZXR band member) Illight, they still are. These guys are totally down with a "remote" vocalist, meaning that if you're reading in Kansas and have a secure internet connection, YOU could be the new singer for RRRRRRRRRXXXXYXRYXXXXXXRRRRYYYRXXXRY. So sack up, you fucking pussy. Maybe you should be doing something a little more constructive with your time than sitting in your room doing screamo covers of Lady Gaga songs.
RXYZYXR Myspace. Go to it, and become famous.
Oh yeah, the purpose of this whole post was to showcase the brand new YXZXZXZYXYXZXYXZXRXRXZXRXRXYXYXRXZX video "Polar Knights", which we are going to watch........ NOW
Note the shot of the lonely, unattended microphone at the beginning of the video :(
C'mon, you fucking morons. The influences might be apparent, but these dudes obviously have their shit together and are ready to SHRED. I like what I hear, I'm sure many of you out there in the Contrap-Nation do too. Let's fuckin' hook these guys up.
Friday, July 23, 2010
So like you, I also pick up a lot of my weekly groceries at the Cosmic Hearse Market. And lately I've been spending a lot of time in the 70's aisle. Mostly hanging out around the obscure French disco section. I have to say, I can not get enough of that right now. Last month it was all Africa all the time. This month it's France. Anthony Bourdain says the French have mastered all the arts, except for music. But that dude is way off base. Just head over to the Hearse and browse posts marked France. You will be stoked. I know getting down is both false AND ungrim, but I have been figuratively shaking it to this all day:
at least have the patience to wait for the vocals to come in
Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. Anyway, Aesop will often say something like "play this at your next coke party" when serving up these hot plates off euro dance weirdness, and every time I get all jealous that some people have the time and energy to party down like that. All I do is work and go to practice, so I have to play these sweet jams at less exciting points in my day, like dish washing parties or laundry folding parties. At BEST a bone party but there's only so many times you can stop in the middle of the act and be like, oh, wait, you have to hear this French disco record I downloaded today!! Anyway, here's one for Aesop, play this at your next sitting in a chair with a bong uploading rad black metal demos party.
The deal with this record is that it's essentially workout music. But not like Manowar or something that gets you pumped to slay some iron, its more Richard Simons/Jane Fonda style dance class music. The reason it's worth talking about it is the that music was written (probably in five minutes) by Alain Goraguer, one of my favorite French film composers of the 60's. He was a tight bro with Serge Gainsbourg and he did the soundtrack for La Planète Sauvage (The Savage Planet) among many other moody, urban, piano based jazz records. BUT, the music isn’t even what draws you in. It’s the ‘vocals’. Or rather instructions, or commands, that are spoken in French by Véronique & Davina. I have no idea what they’re saying. Probably, touch your toes, keep those knees up, good work ladies, or something like that. Outside of the dance studio, this record is pretty weird. If you're hanging out alone in your apartment, it is just fucking bizarre.
Here is the Savage Planet soundtrack so you can compare (bro move).
Thursday, July 22, 2010
The story is:
“The project was brought about by a German businessman named Leo Muller, who contacted Irish group Thin Lizzy to record the album. The group were not enthusiastic, as they were trying to forge their own style and identity, but they needed the money. Thin Lizzy's vocalist, Phil Lynott, decided that he was unable to sing like Deep Purple vocalist Ian Gillan, so restricted himself to playing bass guitar and singing back-up. The band brought in Benny White, singer with the Dublin group Elmer Fudd, because they generally performed Deep Purple covers during gigs.
The makeshift band rehearsed for "two or three hours", according to Downey, before recording the whole album in one day. Nine tracks were recorded, with five being Deep Purple covers. Three others were loosely improvised instrumentals; "Dan" - a version of "Londonderry Air" or "Danny Boy" by Bell in a Jimi Hendrix style; "Rising Sun" - a cover of "The House of the Rising Sun" made popular by The Animals; and the original composition "Palamatoon". The last track on the album was "Corina", credited to Leo Muller, as were the other non-Deep Purple songs.”
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Avid reader Carl W came up with the awesome idea of cataloguing a list of futuristic sportz as seen in in the moviez. It immediately occurred to me that there must be tons of examples.
Best yet, the objective of most of these fictional games is to KILL, KILL, KILL!
I came up with a couple, but it wasn't until I recently had the little exchange below, (in the comments section of a well-known movie website that shall remain nameless), that the fire of my wrath gave me true inspiration...
(the discussion is about the recent I Spit On Your Grave remake - a movie I couldn't give a fuck about - but it's the principal people, THE PRINCIPAL! I highlighted the bits I got really angry about)
IMPECCABLY DISCERNING CINEMATISTE (AKA uptight fucktard): The first film's existence already stirred up my rage long ago as an exploitative piece of crap, however if someone wants to argue that the original creators wanted to experiment with pushing extreme boundaries and evoking emotion, I might not disagree as much as I might still snort derisively.
We know our horror audience is divided into fans of sub-genres and among those are those fans of torture porn and pointless exploitation. This is not a film or social experiment; this is simply going to gain the director notoriety and future projects, and be lapped up by the type of fans who would yawn in boredom as a live spectator watching Christians thrown to the lions.
I'm already pretty appalled to have read an article header that called this movie's one-sheet "sexy"...
THIRSTY & MISERABLE (AKA Me, AKA Uncultured Gore Lovin' Cretin): Bored? Not at all! I'd love to see some Christians thrown to the lions! If they could toss in a few condescendingly arrogant knee jerk reactionaries too, that'd make for one hell of a night! However, to stave off the numbing ennui it WOULD be better if the victims were SEXY (see ISOYG poster)!
Fuck that pompous, uptight fucktard. Violence RULES; exploitation RULES; sex RULES; drug taking RULES; transgression RULES! And above all, try and remember asshole, IT'S ONLY A FUCKING MOVIE!
So, to the KILLIN' GAMES!
1. STAR WARS - Womp Rat shootin'
I think it's pretty safe to assume that as you never actually see one Womp Rat in the entire original trilogy; second trilogy (The Star Wars Holiday Special - Caravan of Courage: An Ewok Adventure - Ewoks: The Battle for Endor); or the more recent "Action Figure Infomercial trilogy"; that the little sand dwellin' rats don't exist anywhere except in Luke's imagination. Luke ain't huntin' space rodent. He's havin' himself some fun with the other more sentient, but no less annoying local vermin... the Jawa. Easy targets, but you should see their fuckin' head's come apart! Also, not a future sport because it happened in the past.
2. ROMERO'S DEAD MOVIES - Zombie Shootin'
Starting with the final scene of Night of the Living Dead (where we see some over-enthusiastic bumpkins knock off the film's hero), Romero's Dead films repeatedly show us how the zombie apocalypse has created a social climate in which the redneck and his ilk seem to thrive. Legalised murder? Yer darn tootin'! Kill some dead faggots? Fuckin' A! In Dawn of the Dead we see a deputised army of hicks out for a day of fun, beer drinkin' and killin'; in Land of the Dead, a system of gambling on human vs zombie cage fights (though why anyone would want to kill Asia Argento is totally beyond me); and in Diary of the Dead - more drunken yokels blow a dead woman's head in half (after they've hung her from a tree branch by her hair). Get'er done!
3. DEATH RACE 2000
You'd better stay off the streets during the Transcontinental Road Race, or Frankenstein'll get ya. Doubly so for your dear old grandmother, because septuagenarians are a 100pt kill motherfucker.
4. STARSHIP TROOPERS - Fancy Future Football
Verhoeven's Starship Troopers rules. This futuristic sport was quite obviously part of Paul Verhoeven's brilliant plan to tear Heinlein's jingoistic, fascist little SF novel a new asshole. And it worked. He took the manly, patriotic sport of football and made it... GAY. Heinlein would have shat himself with rage. As far as it's suitability for this list of Kill Games? It may be a sissy sport, but it gave Johnny Rico the stamina and athleticism required to go to Klendathu & Tango Urilla and kill fuckin' bugs! Service guarantees citizenship. Would you like to know more?
Houston vs New York. No penalties. No player substitutions. No time limit. James Caan must die!
6. PREDATOR - Galactic Game Hunting
In the same way that The Great White Hunter brags that what he does is "sporting" - killing with the aid of a long-range rifle mounted with a telescopic sight - the vulva-faced Predator hunts inferior species using an arsenal of high tech weaponry that all but guarantees it's dominance. Cloaking device, plasma bolts, laser net, smart disc. And if all else fails, he's got a wrist-mounted self-destruct nuke to finish the job. You're fucked.
7. CUBE - Human Rat Maze
A secret experiment conducted by the military-industrial complex - or a game played for the sadistic enjoyment of the Illuminati? Put the rats in the maze. Watch them desperately crawl their way through and laugh, LAUGH as they evade or get caught in your traps. Care to place bets?
8. HOSTEL PART I & II - Games For The Rich
The Hostel movies are based on fact right? Because you can't tell me that the jaded, super rich don't indulge in play like this. Bidding for ownership of a victim, travelling to an exotic location and... torturing them to death. All the big neocon politicians and corporate uber execs do this annually just to socialise and network. Takashi Miike and Rugero Deodato do it too, so you know it's fucking hip. No reason to get bogged down in issues of morality or conscience either, after all, they're just the little people. The collateral damage of their FUN.
There is magic in these here walls. This house I grew up in is more than just wood planks and itchy insulation. There be tears, heartbreak, bologna sandwiches and fake babies. Rural Alabama in the 80's. It was hard to find a Castle Greyskull playset. Cassingles of Prince and Roxette were readily available at the local Sav-On. Brother has a tape recorder. The fine art of "remixing" was being spread like herpes at a key party. Home taping is killing the record industry. Fuck it. Make your own albums. Call in the neighborhood kids to play percussion. Older brother will make the beats. This is the best album you will ever download on all of the internet. Me want cookie... and cookie is good.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
I saw Roky once in SF and they had to carry me out. I saw him the other day in LA and the dude didn’t look so good. Here’s my favorite album by my favorite dude of all time. I love you Roky.
If anyone wants any more gems from deeper in the Roky Erickson discography, just let me know. I have it for days. And I could never post enough Roky on here.
Manslaughter, is this record any good?
I mentioned the other day that Akimbo was probably the band that I thought gave the least amount of a fuck. Whatever that means, I was totally wrong. That titles belongs to LORDZ from Louisville. I saw those dudes in LA a week or two ago and holy balls, these guys do not give a FUCK ABOUT NATHAN (when you’re from the south you don’t give a fuck about nathan apparently. Mutated from n’thun or nuttin). I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard or so much during a show. I mean, I’ve laughed at terrible bands before, but these guys were good. They just happened to be genuinely hilarious. I know for sure that I’ve never seen better banter than LORDZ when it comes to starting a set. They began like this:
Guitar player: WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?
Bass player: ARE YOU GUYS SITTING DOWN? NO, PLEASE, TAKE A SEAT
Guitar player: YEAH, RELAX, SERIOUSLY, HAVE A SEAT
Bass player: ARE YOU A BUNCH OF FAGGOTS?
Guitar player: JESUS CHRIST, THIS WHOLE ROOMS FULL OF FAGGOTS
Bass player: I THINK EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU IS FAGGOT
Guitar player: IVE NEVER SEEN SO MANY GOD DAMMIT FAGGOTS
Bass player: HEY WE’RE LORDS AND YOU SHOULD BUY US A BEER
Guitar player: WE WILL SUCK YOUR DICK FOR A BEER
Bass player: BUY US A BEER, WIN A DICK SUCKING
Guitar player: I’LL SUCK EVERY DICK IN THIS ROOM
Bass player: I WILL SUCK A MANS DICK
Guitar player: I’LL SUCK A WOMANS DICK
Bass player: I’LL SUCK YOUR DICK
Guitar player: I’LL SUCK MY OWN DICK
Bass player: I’LL SUCK A BABIES DICK
Guitar player: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU FAGGOTS
Bass player: ARE YOU AFRAID?
Guitar player: ARE YOU AFRAID OF LORDS?
Bass player: ARE YOU FUCKING FAGGOTS FUCKING AFRAID?
Guitar player: WELL FUCK ALL Y’ALL, WE’RE FUCKING LORDS
And then they launched into 35 minutes of brutally loud, insanely fast, southern style, beer drenched, crossover thrash-core madness. Everyone I’ve talked to describes them as Black Flag on 45 but I think they’re a little more postmodern than that. These dudes we’re completely hammered, yet still totally tight. Loose at times, but very much on purpose. It’s like their drummer could shred, but each cymbal had the equivalent of a shark bite taken out of it. The guitar player played two full stacks, in stereo, on either side of the room, and the bass player had a gnarly rig only Jared from Big Business could totally appreciate. It was full on goofball, but full on shredding at the same time. A weird but enjoyable mix of the professional and the nonchalant. They were such pros at what they did, but what they did was say fuck you to all the pros. I don’t know. Check out their newest record, the aptly titled Fuck All Y’all Mother Fuckers. The record is good but if this post had a point it would be to convince you to go see LORDZ live. They’re on tour right now, I would highly recommended buying them a beer.
Fittingly, this record starts with two minutes of drunk banter, This Isn’t a Song Dumb Ass.
Monday, July 19, 2010
THIS is Voivod. You think this makes no sense? It makes perfect sense. Once you - I shit you not - learn its own brand of peculiar sign language. I once had, and I could write you little haiku-type primary emotion poems in it. I might not remember the lexicon as well as I could 10 years ago but the emotional-neural connections are still functioning in cryohibernation mode.