You can call us LIVE, on the air, to fuck with us. The number is 415.829.2980. We will most likely hang up on you, but it doesn't mean we don't love you. We talk about lots of dumb shit. We are too lazy to write anymore.
Drop what you're doing and check out this video. If you have any taste, you'll watch the entire thing, but pay special attention from 4:20 on. At 5:00, Gibby pulls one of the most awesome moves I've ever seen. Shit is real, son.
Sorry ladies and gents, I just realized its been almost two weeks since my last post here at IllCon (found here). Man, I'm slacking hard these days! (these damn classes I'm taking are getting in the way... fuckin' A!)
To be brutally honest, I was a bit disappointed in all y'all out there as no one commented on my last post (again, found here) so I have no idea whether it was worthy or not. However people have been downloading the shit out of the link I provided so it is safe to assume that someone, somewhere out there must dig it, right?
Shit...
So in light of my absence here on IllCon as of late, I present you with this slab of awesomeness!! Are you excited?! You should be excited, as it is m@#$%!@#$%!@g DEATH STRIKE!! Bro!! Dude, man!
Straight out of Chicago, Illinois, Death Strike formed in 1984, long before many of the so-called "death metal" bands of today were even kernels of inspiration; long before the scenesters of today were barely even out of their diapers, including myself. They released one demo in 1985 under the same title name as their full length, Fuckin' Death, which was released in 1991. The band split sometime in 1992 after-which members went on to other bands, most notably the almighty Master. The sound is crude, reminiscent of Celtic Frost and Hell Hammer with some elements of hardcore but is just as heavy and brutal as any other release during that time. It reminds me of an earlier, more crude version of Usurper at times. If anything, this release provides an interesting bit of retrospective in terms of understanding the origins of the death metal scene, particularly here in the States.
To quote ANUS, Death Strike are "[o]ne of the founding death metal acts... combin[ing] raging hardcore mayhem with old school metal to create a low-end flesh destroying death metal nightmare." Enough said!
May 2003 – Middle of a month-long tour. Sitting in a venue in Little Rock, Arkansas. Supposedly a record store, but there's only a few dozen actual albums. Stage in the back. Two dudes selling PBR from a cooler behind the counter. Waiting for the fans that won't show up. To pass the time these guys are playing late 80s/early 90s speed metal promo video after late 80s/early 90s speed metal promo video on a VHS player that's seen better days. Most are forgettable, the sort of thing whose absurdity was laid bare in almost-equally un-memorable vehicles like The Decline Of Western Civilization 2. A succession of cowboy-booted hair farmers talking about how original their sound is and how inevitable their success will be. People that I never heard of before or since. But in the middle of it, Ice T. Ice T and Body Count. Little of that is even memorable, though there was a line, something to the effect of “see, a song like 'KKK Bitch' is deep 'cuz it's about racism and shit.” I ponder the absurdity of it all. Of Ice T, speaking through the years and the grainy video tape. Of the degree of masochism necessary to subject one's self to the degradations and shattered dreams that are almost inherent to a creative life. Played the show to nobody except the two employees. One of the best sets we ever did.
March 2012 – Woke up on my 29th birthday, “Cop Killer” inexplicably in my head. Haven't heard the song in years. Pondered a connection, couldn't put it together. Considered the mysterious currents that waft around our various cortexes, delivering seemingly arbitrary snippets of a life's worth of detritus to the forefront of our consciousness, only to have it recede again into the synaptic stew from which it bubbled. Made coffee. Downloaded the first Body Count album. Pretty much as ridiculous as I remember it being, though I still rather enjoy it. The musicianship is fairly bumbling and the lyrics are clumsy, but it's not without its charm. It all sounds like the point where New York crossover thrash was slowing down a bit, but hadn't quite devolved into groove metal and rap-rock. Except performed by people who were not at all well-versed in the ways of their instruments.
Some of it's just not awesome. “Voodoo” kinda just sounds like the worst of Danzig's lyrical conceits, taken to a weird, dramatic extent. Ice T's attempt to sing on “The Winner Loses” is also pretty goddamn atrocious. It's almost good, it's so bad. Almost. But there were other moments that, while as subtle as a fart at a funeral, were actually pretty on point. The lingering race question weighs heavily on the album. It reflects in “Cop Killer,” “KKK Bitch,” “There Goes The Neighborhood,” etc. And while it's never addressed in an especially nuanced fashion, it is interesting to hear the variety of ways in which it's brought up. It's really easy to hear the over-the-top vulgarity of the album but there's something to a lot of these songs, a bluntness that's a little more in touch with reality than a lot of metal tends to be.
Cop kill... er....
But it's honest. They weren't saying what a million hardcore bands hadn't already said, but they brought this sort of thing to larger crowds than ever before (if you don't count “I Shot The Sheriff” or whatever). They made cop-killing catchy. They tried to show things as they were, to pull back the mask. They may have outlived their moment in the sun, some of them at least (R.I.P. Beatmaster V, Mooseman, and D-Roc the Executioner). And their legacy won't ever shake Law & Order. But for a minute there, they made something threatening. Something that was, as the man said, deep. Because it was about racism and shit.
Post Script - so I just did a search and realized our man Cobras already posted this one, beating me to the punch by three years or so. But I already typed the motherfucker out, so yeah.
Obviously Manilow, a fellow of discerning taste and impeccable judgement, decides to tune into Illogical Contraption Radio in Studio 1A tonight at 10pm, because he knows that, even though our hero and protagonist Shelby Cobras will be absent, an excellent interview with SWANS' Michael Gira awaits him there, and that things will undoubtedly get weird. Mr. Manilow decides to call in (415.829.2980) and give co-hosts Cory, Erik, and Al and extra ration of shit on behalf of Dr. Cobras. He even subscribes via iTunes. What a guy!
Mr. Manson--the second to walk into the bar--being an "edgier" and "hipper" fellow, decides that a metal show in Oakland is more his speed, and that his destination will be Eli's Mile High Club. There he will find the likes of Apocryphon, Old Crow (get a real website bros), Plague Widow, and the mighty Early Graves performing, and Mr. Manson knows that the combination of sick grind, piercing volume levels, and flowing liquor will get everyone present laid. Good work, Marilyn.
Ms. Del Rey is the third to walk into the bar. She decides that her best bet for the evening is to go see Saviours, Holy Grail, and (my best bros) Hazzard's Cure at The Elbo Room in SF. It is a poor decision. She is summarily gang-raped and killed by an angry pack of stoned sasquatches.
Don't be like Lana Del Rey. Make the right decision tonight.
The Swedish have always been pretty handy at this death metal lark. If you asked someone to compile a list of favourite death metal bands then surely at least one would be Swedish. Its just the law of averages. Today's post, Vomitory, are Swedish and play death metal.
Redemption is the follow up to the primitive Swede-death brutality of 1996's debut, Raped In Their Own Blood. Catchy stuff, but Vomitory refined the brutality and blasted those teenage Venom and Slayer influences into shape with this album. Catchy, thrashing buzzsaw guitars, drums that shift between all out blasting and d-beat, some monstrous breakdowns and those depth of hell vocals combine with a pretty flawless production job courtesy of Henrik Larsson. From the opening blast of "The Voyage" to the crushing tempo shifting finish of "Partly Dead", there is no let up whatsoever. Swedish death wins again.
"Some call Braco a healer. Some call Braco a Conduit of Divine Energy. Some call Braco a Gazer, a Lightworker, a Miracle Master, or even a Vibrational Healing Artist who is somehow able to silently and instantly heal or peacefully massage the consciousness of tens of thousands around the world for years into feeling better or embracing more joy. We just call Braco a beautiful man... With an extraordinary gift to share.
For more than sixteen years, people from all over Europe have been streaming to Zagreb, Croatia to experience an extraordinary phenomena via a simple act of gazing with a man by the name of Braco (pronounced Braht-zoh, meaning “Little Brother” in Croatian). While Braco doesn’t call himself a healer, hundreds of thousands around the world do. The reported transformations and healings are often medically and even intellectually unexplainable, yet undeniably miraculous. Reams of documentation recount stories of countless souls remarkably and often spontaneously changed by standing before Braco’s silent gaze -- and not just physical healings, but emotional, spiritual, mental, and interpersonal healings, too.
The energy emanating through Braco’s gaze is so strong that many more experience remarkable transformation simply by being in a photograph that another one holds before Braco’s gaze in what we here in America call a Gazing Session. Just this year, despite dire diagnosis and the utter hopelessness of many people, we’ve documented story after story of radical often healing shifts somehow occurring via friends or family members who’ve simply held before Braco a picture or x-ray of a loved one in need. Some of these changes occurred instantly, while others took a little more time -- within a month or so of the gaze. Further, we have also heard of many cases whereby even keeping the image of those needing special attention in one’s mind, much like a prayer, when pictures have been unavailable, has produced equally phenomenal results.
Further, on the Big Island of Hawai’i in the late fall and early winter ’09, Braco, utilizing the Internet technology of Skype, gazed from Zagreb, Croatia with scads of smaller test groups in Kealakekua and more recently in Kamuela, and those participating have found the results no less profound. We are among the first to be awestruck witnessing this energy which Braco shares; energy seemingly not limited nor hindered in any way by physical distance or technology and now we can experience Braco’s gaze via Braco Live Streaming, taking his silent holistic gift to many around the world at once. Within these pages and in other Braco related sites, we invite you to read and discover cases of chronic pain and cancers vanishing, clarity and purpose being restored, and remarkable transformations bursting forth achieved not just by gazing with Braco in person, and Braco’s Skype or Braco’s live streaming sessions, but also by simply hearing a recording of Braco’s voice. We are honored to have been asked to be part of the growing potential of Braco’s work and look forward to announcing new avenues which Braco and his international teams are heartfully exploring to exponentially connect the energy to those who seek his assistance around the globe.
Braco hasn’t spoken in public for years, nor ever given an interview to the media. He doesn’t preach, nor has he a dogma or “how to gaze” rule book. He’s never accepted a single donation for this gift he believes only comes through him, not from him. Braco doesn’t wish to be worshipped as anyone’s master or guru, instead letting the silence within the sweet gaze offer whatever wisdom or shift needed to emerge for each and every being. Beyond this astonishing gift, often bringing spiritual, emotional, and corporeal transformations, Braco has a normal life in every other way -- He has a beautiful wife, a vibrant young son, and a dearly cherished circle of close friends and family. His only desire is to serve and will see those who need his assistance as long as they continue to come seeking his gift.
We here at Braco America are just a part of the larger global family of Braco working together to share the myriad of possibilities in transformation and healing through the energy Braco conveys. Together we whole-heartedly invite you to slip off your shoes, come inside this site, and see for yourself the phenomenon of Braco as he gazes America."
The art shown above was done by THIS GUY. Go buy his stuff please. What's up, buttholes?
Not a Hell of a lot of time to nourish your brains today, let it just be quickly said that IllCon Radio is going to be fucking awesome tonight, as we are completing our 2-part 'Deconstructing Disney' series. Here's what Cory sez:
"We are very honored to have legendary Disney Imagineer Rolly Crump speak with us. Rolly worked very closely with Walt himself starting as an animator and eventually becoming a lead designer for Disneyland on such projects as The Haunted Mansion, It’s A Small World and The Enchanted Tiki Room. Rolly will give us a behind the scenes look at the crazy creative process and hidden backstage stories of the old days at Disney.
Also joining us LIVE in the studio is Leonard Kinsey, author of The Dark Side Of Disney, described as “The Anarchist Cookbook” of Disney travel guides. Leonard will give us the lowdown on how to have “adult” adventures at Walt Disney World. Yes, you too can have a vacation full of sex, drugs and rock n roll which truly makes it the happiest place on Earth."
Sounds like quite a show, but alas, there will be no Taco Bell Dorito Taco Locos Supreme featured this evening. Sorry.
Tune in here at 10pm, and don't be afraid to give us a call with your own psychedelic Disney stories at (415) 829-2980.
PS: I hinted at big things coming up on the podcast recently, and I'm now ready to release just a few:
Image courtesy of Brother Danzig
So you might have heard that we have an internet radio show/podcast now. You can find it here (FCCFreeRadio.com):
Tonight's guest is some dude named Sergeant D who used to do Metal Inquisition, but now he does dumb shit like Stuff You Will Hate and the other Stuff You Will Hate and MetalSucks. You can check out his old-man-ranting on Twitter too. Not that anyone remotely interesting is on Twitter anymore. 
C.H.U.D.s vs. Chads 4 Lyfe
