Monday, January 31, 2011


I'm not even sure where to start when discussing the underground cultural hip-hop/cock rock/punk/techno phenomenon known as I Hate You When You're Pregnant. Comprised of only one member (6'5" Flagstaff, AZ resident Phil Buckman), IHYWYP was part performance art, part abstract pop-culture-referencing postmodern poetry, part G.G. Allin, part motivational speaker, part Rock God, and part rap messiah. I've had a slim cross-section of Buckman's music in my iTunes library for years (courtesy of former Flagstaff resident Erik Del Tigre), but I recently unearthed his entire discography and felt the need to share it immediately. Many of you will recognize the genius herein and become instantly addicted. Many of you will dismiss it as hipster garbage and fail altogether. Such is the polarizing nature of I Hate You When You're Pregnant.
Buckman began his journey in 2002, while roadie-ing for friends of the blog Stab City Slitwrists (above left). As the story goes, Stab City found themselves in need of an opening act one night in Portland, and coaxed Phil into going onstage and making an ass out of himself in a Speedo. The rest, as they say, is history.

Lyrically, I can't think of a single artist that could stand up to IHYWYP when it comes to pure abstract magic. According to Alex at (where I finally tracked down these 5 demos): "IHYWYP WAS A CULTURAL REVOLUTION. IN MY OPINION PHIL BUCKMAN IS THE MOST IMPORTANT SINGER/SONG WRITER OF OUR GENERATION. SUCK AN EGG IF YOU FEEL DIFFERENTLY." I tend to agree, but it isn't just the words that set IHYWYP apart from the outsider/underground/weirdo art pack. Phil's screaming delivery, his physical intensity, and even his weird minimalist techno beats (composed entirely on a Zoom RhythmTrak 234, which was also his only stage accompaniment) push the entire package from "mere curiosity" into the realm of "pure brilliance", and while I can't guarantee universal appreciation of his aethetic (Huge Man In Tiny Underwear has yet to catch on with the metal crowd), I defy you to ignore the raw emotion present in songs like "Desiree", "The Furr's Is Gone", "Peter Frampton Must Die", or "There Is Stuff In This World".
But my words are superfluous. I recommend beginning with the second demo (my initial jumping off point with this "band") and moving outward from there, giving yourself time to absorb each release separately. Unfortunately, Phil "broke up with himself" and disbanded IHYWYP around 2005, but I've seen footage of him performaning from as recently as 2010, so not all hope is lost. This guy is an insane vortex of creativity, a gaping abyss brimming over with the exuberance of pure fucking ROCK. Cultural revolution indeed.

"... If 911 was 1-800/
and 1-800 was a one-armed man/
and if a one-armed man was Heinz 57/

FIRST DEMO (circa 2002)

(couldn't find the actual cover art)

SECOND DEMO (circa 2002-'03)

(couldn't find the actual cover art for this one either)

THIRD DEMO (circa 2003-'04)






"Sleeveless" (second demo):

"Hackeysack!" (fifth demo, live 2005):

IHYWYP tribute page/Last.FM/Myspace/lyrics/etc...

Murderess- S/T (2009)

I’ve had one verse from a shitty 4 non blonde song stuck in my head for the past week. I live in a hell of my own design. Actively engaged in a personal sonic lobotomy has been my only reprieve from shitty femme folk rock of the 90’s that creeps its way into my subconscious like an unwelcome houseguest. Strong music is my antidote to such infestations. Death to all clear channel mediocrity. On a quest for aural glory, the battle continues.

In response to Cobra's recent disclosure of Dana Duffy lust while extolling the virtues of dirthead metal, smoking cheap weed and pursuing back issues of Fangoria with the band Mythic, I feel its necessary to illustrate that a similar dream is alive and thrives in North Portland. Enter Murderess.

Through assailing sonic chaos, they clearly have got a hard on for Swedish d-beat. While citing Bathory and Anti-Cimex influence in true homage to the sounds that abound, Murderess campaign with tight execution and drive conquering your sympathetic nervous system. Fight or flight!

Perhaps last summer’s pressing of their green and black vinyl LP entitled “The Last Thing You’ll Ever See” will save me from myself until some other shitty pop detritus flotsam oozes out from the woodwork. Until then I'll remain forever committed to resist pop radio warble provoking my equilibrium and prompting me to take matters into my own hands. They tour California in March. Go face the execution and be destroyed …

w/ Age of Collapse at the M Sat, Feb 19, Seattle WA

w/ Countdown to Armageddon at the Elbo Room Sat, Mar 19 San Francisco, CA

w/ Buried at Birth at Johnny V's Thu, Mar 24 San Jose, CA

Myspace / Facebook

Buy the new album: Here and Here

Listen to the older album: Here

Sunday, January 30, 2011


This whole time, I was under the impression that 2000's Extreme Hatred--that excellent little slab of Swedish deathrash we all know and love so well--was Hypnosia's only album. Apparently I was wrong!
Elation! Joy! Maximum pitt riffment!

Now please bending over so that Hypnosia can make violent fuck to you.



Saturday, January 29, 2011


3-song EP courtesy of Dana Duffey (right) and MYTHIC. Duffey would go on to play in the much more sophisticated (and much "blacker") Demonic Christ, but Mythic found her using her nefarious talents in a much more sludgy and guttural way--Mourning In The Winter Solstice is the very definition of "primitive death metal", heaving along at the pace of a diseased brontosaurus, oozing doom and foulness. Basement production value and a relatively short playing time (less than 14 minutes) do little to hinder the momentum of this shambling beast, and I doubt anyone with a soul and/or a crippling addiction to all things Vasaeleth/Thorr's Hammer/Hooded Menace/Coffins/etc will take issue with anything herein...

Download HERE

This band photo is practically screaming "Let's go smoke some cheap weed and read back issues of Fangoria". Cobras = enamored.


Friday, January 28, 2011


Everyone already knows that the Illuminati killed Tupac. Common knowledge, right? I mean, a quick Google search, beginning with the words "illuminati killed", will turn up the predictive results you see below, cementing into fact what the collective zeitgeist had merely hinted at in the past: YES, the Illuminati killed Michael Jackson. The Illuminati killed Aaliyah. The Illuminati killed Bob Marley. The Illuminati killed Biggie. Fuck, those dudes even killed Kanye's mom! Dick move, Illuminati. Dick move.

But most importantly, the Illuminati killed Tupac Shakur. And I have proof.

Let's begin here:

Obviously the man had some ideas that didn't sit well with the "Powers That Be", and, as reptilian shapeshifters are prone to doing, they assassinated him with a massive, complicated conspiracy involving a faked East/West "gang war", suppressd testimonies, and the construction of an entire hip-hop media empire (Jay Z's Roc-A-Fella Records, which was founded, unsurprisingly, in 1996--the same year Pac was murdered!). But we'll get to Jay Z's complicity in the grand scheme a little later. Let us first take in the classic 2Pac jam "They Don't Give A Fuck About Us", paying special attention to the lyrical content:

"Tupac And The Illuminati" on Venture

Of course, there are even those who claim that Tupac isn't dead at all. They're wrong, of course, but they deserve extra credit for questioning the "official story".

Example 1:

Example 2:

YouTube user "TheSaed" claims: "His alive living in South jamica and he changed his name but I can't say anything else online" (!!!)

Let's see...
2Pac was signed to Interscope Records at the time of his death. Interscope is owned by Universal Music Group, who also owns Geffen and A&M. The French media conglomerate called Vivendi owns UMG at present, but guess who owned Interscope/Universal before the buyout? If you guessed notorious Illuminati thug and reptilian bloodliner Edgar Bronfman, well then... You would be CORRECT.
David Icke knows what's up: "And who controls the music industry? The same people who control Hollywood and the global media in general - the Illuminati. The biggest music operation in the world, for instance, is Universal Music, owned by the Bronfman family of Canada, a major Illuminati family..."
OBVZ. Even Jermaine Jackson knows what's up.

But let's take it a little further...



More Gaga/Illuminati via PsuedOccult Media


Damn! Is there anyone that the Illuminati isn't directly controlling? Sure, their symbolism can be found just about EVERYWHERE, but entertainers like Jay Z and Lady Gaga aren't even trying to hide it anymore! They're putting it right out there in the open, confident that the ignorance of the common "sheeple" will protect them from being exposed for what they really are.

But not Illogical Contraption, motherfuckers!

It is important that we remain ever vigilant against the Illuminati threat, lest we lose more revolutionaries like Tupac via assassination. The reptilian Illuminati are like psychic vampires, but the blood that they crave is "money" and "power". All corporations are somehow owned or manipulated by the Illuminati, so how do we go about starving them, of depriving them of their life-giving hemoglobin?
Download music for free off the internet.

And next time you feel a pang of guilt for "stealing from the record companies", ask yourself one question....




Say you recorded a record, and while you were shopping it to labels, some dude posted it for free on some shitty blog for metal nerds. In this hypothetical situation, would you be bummed about the leak? Disappointed that a little air has been taken out of the official release? Or, would you be stoked? Happy to see the buzz pick up a little steam online through music blogs in hopes that some small increase in popularity might have a positive effect on your label negotiations. This is something I think about all the time and often, in the case of bands like Glitter Wizard, Gypsyhawk and Valdur, I choose not to blow their wads ahead of schedule by posting unreleased records that were shared with me in good faith. But, as I prepare for 20 days in the studio to make my own record, my thinking on this is starting to change. Personally, I think I would be stoked. If the record was good and it got out and people liked it and if it’s unreleased status even fueled its popularity, I would be totally and completely stoked. So today, I’m not “leaking” the unreleased debut album by LA stoner metal trio Moab, I’m doing a couple or rad dudes a total bro move by making available a new favorite for a lot of young Hessians. In lieu of an in-depth review I’ll pitch it to you with a tag line: QOTSA Osbourne.


This is not the album cover.

Thursday, January 27, 2011



Buried treasure disinterred from the hoary wastes of Seattle, Washington, INFESTER was a short-lived project featuring several future members of The Meat Shits. To The Depths, In Degradation was their only full-length album, and is truly a rare and remarkably tasty find for friends of evil, guttural, cult DM. Similar in spirit to "outsider" grind like Impetigo or Embalmer, Infester mix heaping portions of doom, barfy vocals, sputtering stop-go blastbeats, and even the odd organ riff into their heady cauldron of deathly suffering, creating a swirling maelstrom of all things chunky, sticky, and gross. This is not for fans of clean production, gravity blasts, sweep-picked arpeggios, or clean-vocal breakdowns. This is pure evil, and it is delicious.

Did I mention that I discovered Infester via a little website called Last.FM? Because I did, and through the suggestion of several friends of the blog, I've finally created an IllCon Last.FM account. Come visit us HERE!

Download HERE

The guy on the left is my hero.


Wednesday, January 26, 2011


If you ask me "what kind" of black metal I prefer, I can basically answer you in three words: Lunar. Fucking. Aurora. (Or one word: Inquisition. But that's another post.)
Let's see here... Non-stop fucking blastbeat madness? Check. Croaky-frog-vomit vocals? Check. Semi-discordant tremolo riffing up the ass? Check. Raw, yet balanced production? Roger. Cheezy fucking symphonic/"atmospheric" keyboard riffs floating around somewhere in the background? Yup. There is nothing wrong with this band whatsoever. I heartily endorse them.
Lunar Aurora came from Bavaria, Germany (birthplace of Adam Weishaupt and the Illuminati, according to some), and pinched off nine solid full-length albums, two splits, and two demos during the course of their 12-year existence. Weltengänger was their first (and arguably best) long-player, and consists of 47+ minutes of unequivocal, unadulterated, vitriolic HATRED, SPEED, EVIL, VIOLENCE, and DEATH.
Sorry, Jesus, but you're pretty pathetic competition for something this good.

Download HERE
Purchase HERE



It was the turn of the millenium, a time both magnificently exciting and a little bit terrifying for the world's population. Humanity sat poised at the brink, unsure whether they were approaching Utopian trancendance, Orwellian enslavement, or utter obliteration. They were trying times for all, and the only certainty was uncertainty.
From this worldwide quandary rose few champions, but they did indeed rise, and they were colossal. Harnessing the collective zeitgeist in 1999 were films such as the Lucasian masterpiece The Phantom Menace or the id/ego study Universal Soldier 2, movies that dared us to dream, to understand one another by learning to speak the international language of art. These staggering works of heart-wrenching genius hinted at the true heights the human soul could achieve, but it wasn't until just after the turn of the millenium that society truly found its singular voice, its pinnacle, the global muse.
I speak, of course, of the Martin Lawrence triumph Big Momma's House.

Big Momma seemed the logical endpoint for human evolution, a peak soaring so high in the stratosphere of human imagination that it would be impossible to approach its greatness. I'm sure many thousands of filmmakers simply walked away from their craft at the release of the film, seeing it as the ultimate coup de grace for art and creativity, an enormous and beautiful exclamation point at the end of the sentence that was mankind's existence.
But mankind carried on.

And six years later, to the surprise of the Earth's entire population, "Momma" returned!
The response, massive though it was, was predictable. It was the pain of death and rebirth encompassed into one giant grief-spasm, the universal lament felt throughout the very cosmos. Yes, a King had been dethroned... But what of this handsome new Prince?
Fear, wonder, and wild speculation coursed throughout the planet's life's blood, and upon the release of Big Momma's House 2 on January 27th, 2006, man's greatest hopes were realized: the sequel was every bit the Earth-shattering statement of Love and Unity as its predecessor--life would go on, "beauty" had again been redefined!
Mankind lay in an almost post-coital stupor, delivered through the gates of pure bliss unto the very lap of the Gods. Big Momma 2 was the biggest Momma of all, the Earth Mother, Gaia, the Giver of Life. All was well with the Universe once again.

"All true artists, whether they know it or not, create from a place of no-mind, from inner stillness."

- Eckhart Tolle

It is a testament to the very power and momentum of films like Big Momma/Big Momma 2 that even a cheap imitation such as Eddie Murphy's Norbit (2007) is so compelling and eminently watchable (left), although it must be noted that creating art in the vacuum that Momma left was a challenge unto itself. Sure, Murphy proved to be a master of his craft in 2002's The Adventures of Pluto Nash, but ALL film, post-Momma, was created underneath a gigantic, looming shadow, a place where even the most brilliant strokes of human genius were rendered dim and opaque, like phantoms fleeing from the presence of God.

Pretender To The Throne: Tyler Perry's "Madea" (right), while still an avatar of the collective subconscious and near-deity in His/Her own right, paled in comparison to "Momma", and to this day remains a distant runner-up in the never-ending quest for greatness in the "African-American Guy In Drag Wearing A Fat Suit And Fighting Crime" genre.

Such has been the state of modern art for nigh unto 5 years. Life seems a repetitive and mundane endeavor in the wake of Momma 2, an endless slog through mediocrity and mindless routine without focus or inspiration. The great fires have burned--roared skyward in a blinding flash of light and heat--and are now nought but ash and smoke. What is left to strive for? Are all of our dreams and aspirations quenched by the mighty waters of Fear and Death? Has mankind any hope?

Fear not, O my Brothers and Sisters.
For the voice of God has once again rung upon my ears, and I am bursting with joy as I announce that as of February 18th, 2011, "THE MOMMA OF ALL COMEDIES IS BACK"... AGAIN!
Indeed, the shadows that are pain and strife will once again be banished by the brilliant sun that is "Momma", and this time, as the poster proclaims, "Momma's got back-up"!
Prepare for all memories of human suffering to be vanquished. Prepare for dancing, celebration, and wild merriment in the streets. Prepare for endless happiness and fulfillment, for the eradication of negativity and evil forevermore. Prepare for the unceasing, eternal orgasm of Big Mommas: Like Father Like Son, mankind's new North Star, our moral compass--the true Messiah here to lead us into a dazzling future of peace and prosperity.



Tuesday, January 25, 2011

WARNING: Your Head Is About To Fucking EXPLODE


Originally suggested to me by IC Bro Asa, Carbonized were (kind of) an earlier, grindier incarnation of epic-classical-metallers Therion, although you would never guess it based on the sound of their first couple albums. For The Security, Carbonized's first full-length, finds the band at the magical crossroads of heads-down, Napalm Death Scum-grind and early Swedish death metal, displaying the better parts of both and the trappings of neither. Yes, there is much punk rock energy to be found herein, a sense of urgency and nihilism that occasionally borders on complete chaos. But the riffs are also tasty, well-executed, and occasionally even a little technical--shit, the bass playing alone betrays the intrinsic talent this band had in abundance. Repeat listens peel away further layers of distortion and filth, and before long you might even pick up on a couple weird prog elements here and there ("Euthanasia" and "Third Eye" being prime examples).

While Carbonized circa '92-and-earlier might seem like an IllCon wet dream (it is), their later work (primarily 1993's Disharmonization and 1996's Screaming Machines) is a whole other story unto itself, as their transformation into purveyors of progressive post-rock dissonance was significantly harder to swallow than the delicious grind we are here to celebrate today. And even though all of the "main" guys in Carbonized went on to play in Therion, calling them the "same" band isn't quite fair, either. In all actuality, the Carbonized/Therion family tree involves just about the entire Swedish metal scene from 1985-present, with direct ties to bands like Excruciate, Messiah, Entombed, Dismember, General Surgery, and Dark Funeral--not to mention frontman Christofer Johnsson's stint with perennial IC favorites Liers In Wait... Which means further connections to other awesome bands like Oxiplegatz and At The Gates (kinda makes you wonder how he ended up involved with some bullshit like THIS, right?). But, as usual, I digress.
This whole spiderweb of elaborate backstory does nothing to change the facts: 1) Carbonized, in their heyday, were completely unfuckwithable. 2) For The Security is a balls-kickingly good heavy metal album, charting some important middle ground between late-80's grind and early-90's DM. 3) Sweden always wins at metal. ALWAYS.

Download HERE



More of the same, except released a year earlier with a different lineup and way cooler cover art.

Download HERE

(Extra credit death metal faux pas #666: refer to this album as No Carbonation in mixed Hessian company. Reap Lulz.)


CURRENT OBSESSIONS: Growing Old With Comedy Death Ray Radio

A month ago, I couldn't have explained how a "podcast" worked if my life depended on it. I never had any interest in this particular medium, and as a result, never explored any of the terrific shows floating around the digital ether. But IC Bros Peter and Royce changed all that, urging me to check out's weekly podcast Comedy Death Ray, hosted by longtime comedy writer Scott Aukerman (probably best known for his work on Upright Citizen's Brigade and Mr. Show With Bob And David). Sure, comedy podcasts can be a bit of an acquired taste, but when one's ears grow weary of a constant death metal assault, a simple gathering of human voices--accompanied by frequent humorous allusions and a distinct lack of blastbeats--can be soothing, fulfilling, even a bit rewarding. I won't go into too much detail here, but it is a theory of mine that adults of a certain age tend to abandon "rock and roll radio" for "talk radio" when their lust for life begins to truly fade--and my current addiction to CDR represents that same idea in motion.
Join me, won't you?

A brief collection of CDR's greatest hits as follows:

(Nick Kroll as El Chupacabra)

(James Adomian as Huell Howser)

(Seth Morris as Bob Ducca)

(Matt Besser as Bjork)

(Brett Gelman performs "iBrain")

(James Adomian as Jesse "The Mind" Ventura)

If you are old and boring enough to find this sort of thing entertaining, you might also enjoy Will Franken's podcast Things We Did Before Reality, Best Show on WFMU with Tom Scharpling, Paul F. Tompkins' Pod F. Tomkast, or Doug Benson's Doug Loves Movies. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some lukewarm oatmeal and Murder, She Wrote reruns to get back to.

Friday, January 21, 2011


First off, just take a minute to fully soak in that cover art. Go ahead, I can wait...

I fucking love albums like this. FUCKING LOVE 'EM. You guys get it? The poorly-drawn dude looking through the blinds? He's having a "PARANOID DELUSION". Get it? The name of the album. It's literally being acted out on the cover. Literally. If you're still having trouble understanding, just hit me up at illogicalcontraption(at)yahoo(dot)com and I'll try and walk you through it.
Pure ham-fisted Long Island MOSH, featuring some Bros that were in Suffocation (OG guitarist Doug Cerrito and mid-90's drummer Doug Bohn, specifically). Has anyone used the term "Proto-Wigger Slam" yet? Like in that clumsy, crunchy, totally-straight-faced meathead, Internal Bleeding/Pyrexia kinda way, you know? Is that a "thing"?
Whatever. The riffs here are surprisingly dissonant and tasty, Bohn's drum work is top-notch, and the entire package is actually probably alot better than you are expecting it to be. But man, the singer. Oh man. Basically, this is a band doing a really good Suffocation impersonation with a really, really, really drunk and semi-laryngitic Tom Warrior on vocals. If you can't hang with this then you don't have a soul. Listen to it all weekend while you huff paint in your parents' basement and take in that Married... With Children marathon.


Welt/Encyclopaedia Metallum

Thursday, January 20, 2011


IC sure has been on a "classic metal" bender lately, eh? Well, no better way to put a big fat exclamation point at the end of this phase than with an astral excursion into the booger-sugar fueled galaxy of Wolverhampton, UK's own CLOVEN HOOF.
Rarely credited in casual discussion of the NWOBHM, Cloven Hoof were a strange amalgamation of Kiss-esque costumery (see above), party-rockin' moustache riffs, sci-fi/fantasy/occult imagery and lyricism, and good, old-fashioned, inspirational rock and roll. Originally comprised of members using the psuedonyms "Earth", "Air", "Fire", and "Water" (guess which is which), the band went about the standard 4/4 wannabe arena-rock so common amongst also-ran NWOBHM bands with a surprising amount of theatricality and flair, releasing three full-lengths, a live album, and one EP during the course of the 1980's and gaining considerable cult/collector status along the way.
The Hoof's career arc has been sort of a strange one. Their first "real" release, 1982's 4-song The Opening Ritual, is a solid, rocking chunk of curious metal effluvium, with 3 songs sporting lengthy keyboard/narration intros and a tasty prog-bar-band vibe while the fourth, "Back In The USA", is an earnest (and quite obvious) attempt at cashing in Stateside--almost as if Cloven Hoof couldn't decide whether they wanted to be Def Leppard or Rush. Either way, the EP's final track, "Starship Sentinel", is a keeper.

(Side note: How much would it suck to be "Air" and have to go around wearing those raveresque angel wings?)

The band's first full-length (self-titled and released in 1984) found the band losing a bit of momentum and leaning more toward the commercial "hard rock" that became the bane (and eventually, the death) of the NWOBHM movement, but it's still a pleasingly ass-kicking release, with focus more on boozing, broads, and Satan than the spacey unicorn-isms of their first release. You can definitely hear Cloven Hoof yearning to create their own Screaming For Vengeance on this album, and it's an altogether charming experience.
But hard times soon came, and their next album, a collection of live cuts titled Fighting Back, was an onslaught of poorly-recorded AM-radio drivel puncuated by moments of brilliance (see "Heavy Metal Men of Steel"), making it apparent that constant lineup changes, unrealized ambitions, and a decade notoriously unkind to heavy metal had taken its toll on this hard-working space-metal quartet. They enjoyed one last journey into glory with the one-two punch of their obviously thrash, hair, and coke-influenced 1988 and 1989 albums Dominator and A Sultan's Ransom (both oft-overlooked slabs of late-80's heavy metal awesomeness, although Ransom is the clear winner), but had dissolved into nothingness by the onset of the 90's.
There was, of course, the inevitable "reunion" in 2000, which led to a couple best-of and live releases which were, of course, profitable for the band but depressing to everyone else. They slogged through the new millenium with several more lineup changes and very little new material (their one "new" album of the decade is hardly worth mentioning), and the last anyone had heard of them (last year), original bassist/composer Lee "Air" Payne had fired the entire band, carrying on under the same name with no other musicians involved. Bummer.
But I digress. Here are all the good albums Cloven Hoof ever put out. Enjoy them irresponsibly.

(Side note: I found a downloadable version of the "Cloven Hoof Comic Book" RIGHT HERE. You should check it out if you're into that kind of stuff.)









PRO TIP: If you dug Demon, you will enjoy the first two albums more. If you are more into stuff like the Transformers OST (1986 style), you will prefer the latter.