If there's one thing musos like to do it's make lists and I am no exception. If there's one other thing musos like to do it's bag on other people's lists. In this series of posts, which shall hopefully take me no longer than four or five years to complete, I shall attempt to do both.
It is impossible for one to say with complete confidence that such and such an album is a band's best or worst, because there's always some contrarian clown who will disagree virulently. However a general critical consensus can usually be determined, and in this series I will take upon myself the role of the aforementioned clown and point out the most notable cases where everyone in the world bar myself has gotten it all completely wrong.
12. System of a Down - Steal this Album!
Most people barely remember that this album even exists, being instead content to argue the merits of the self titled, Toxicity or god forbid Hypnotize and Mezmerize. Perhaps it is because it's a b-sides album or perhaps it is because it's more melodic than their other releases but even people who are big fans of System tend to dismiss Steal this Album! as of no consequence.
However I would confidently rank it as their best album (narrowly edging out the self titled). For it's first half the disc shows off the bands heavy side with all of the humour and quirkiness that made their first album so good and only a touch of the self importance that in the end turned them to crap. The second half is more melodic and personal, and 'Highway Song', 'Roulette' and 'Streamline' are among the best things they've written.
I should also note that not only does this album belong on this list but that System of a Down themselves would be close to the top in a list of unjustly maligned bands. When your peers include Limp Bizkit and Linkin Park it's hard not to end up tainted by some of their stinky odour but at least up to and including this album they were actually a pretty good band with more in common with their predecessors such as Faith No More than the meatheaded proponents of the genre they ended up lumped in with.
Bold Statement: Toxicity is a good album too.
11. Rage Against the Machine - Evil Empire and The Battle of Los Angeles
Sure Rage's first album is pretty good, but I've never understood why it's rated so much higher than their subsequent albums. Renegades deserves dismissal but the dislike for The Battle of Los Angeles is quite mystifying. Yes these two albums both contain a bit of filler whereas the self titled is consistently good from beginning to end, but the good songs on the later albums are really, really fucking good. Any album that opens with 'People of the Sun', 'Bulls on Parade', 'Vietnow' and 'Revolver' or that contains 'Sleep Now in the Fire', 'No Shelter' and 'Maria' is already fucking awesome even before you consider the brilliance of 'Ashes in the Fall' or 'Down Rodeo'.
The weird thing is that I don't hear much different between these albums and the self-titled. If anything they're technically better in terms of production and songwriting, Zach's lyrics have improved and Tom Morello is never less than awesome. What strange cabal has decided that the first album is the only one worthy of respect?
Bold Statement: 'Ashes in the Fall' and 'Down Rodeo' are better than all of the self titled put together.
10. Korn – Untouchables
In over ten years they still haven't made an album that didn't contain at least a few embarrassingly dreadful tracks, but in Untouchables Korn come pretty close to making a genuinely decent record. One of the reasons this album gets dismissed is because despite a strong lead single in 'Here to Stay' the brain eater ensured that they followed it up with 'Thoughtless', the most dreadful of the aforementioned dreadful songs on this album and probably one of the worst things they've ever written. The third single was the ballad 'Alone I Break', which I think is decent but turned off the neanderthal munter crowd pretty quickly. The other reason this album gets bagged is because it's by Korn, who it must be admitted have truly earned their reputation as the shitty music of choice of said neanderthal munters.
Nonetheless this album is the only thing they've ever done which I consider genuinely worthy of merit and not just a guilty pleasure. In a move that's far cleverer than anything they've done before or since Korn managed to infuse their conventional stompy headbanging anthems with a good dose of sensitive balladry and what's more actually do both aspects well and make them blend harmoniously together. If that's not enough there are also the goofy but fun metal anthems 'Beat it Upright' and 'Wake Up Hate'.
Bold Statement: Pretty much anything good I say about Korn counts as a bold statement.
9. The Doors - Waiting for the Sun
Conventional wisdom holds that The Doors released two good albums, their début and L.A. Woman, which bookended a largely regrettable career. While The Soft Parade deserves almost every bit of bad press it gets and I have no strong desire to pick up Morrison Hotel, Waiting for the Sun is total brilliance from beginning to end. Sure everyone loves 'Five to One' but if you can believe it this album gets dismissed for not being as edgy as their older stuff. Compared to my normal diet of Burzum and Coil the relative edginess of The Doors' albums is a bit of a non issue so I'm free to appreciate the gentle beauty of songs like 'Yes, the River Knows' and 'Summer's Almost Gone' on their own terms. And do I need to even mention the brilliance of 'Not to Touch the Earth'?
Bold Statement: Jim Morrison wrote good lyrics.
Bonus Embarrassing Admission: I really like 'Hello I Love You'.
That's enough for now. Hopefully in a few days I'll have the next post in this series up, featuring 66% less nu-metal and 100% fewer bands with over rated self titled début albums.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Thursday, April 05, 2007
It's Done
I've finally run out of things to post that I wrote while I was internetless. Now we're on to the list of funny youtube videos that I've built up over the same period. May God have mercy on you all.
First up: Bizarre fucking Microsoft ad from the 80s. It should be already skipped forward to the weird bit. (Via Uncertain Principles)
First up: Bizarre fucking Microsoft ad from the 80s. It should be already skipped forward to the weird bit. (Via Uncertain Principles)
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
The Ladies of Grace Adieu
by Susanna Clarke
Some time ago I read Susanna Clarke's gargantuan fantasy novel Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, and found it quite enjoyable although I feel that, as capable a writer as Clarke is, the conceit of a comically prim fantasy had worn out much of its humour by the end of nine hundred pages. The Ladies of Grace Adieu is a collection of eight short stories from the same setting as Jonathan Strange and again while they are well written I can't help but feel that this collection is just the same old trick being trotted out for a victory lap on the coattails of the substantial commercial success of the novel.
Nevertheless if more of the same is what one is after then The Ladies of Grace Adieu will not disappoint. The first few stories are a bit lackluster and tend to run a bit long but the second half of the book improves greatly in terms of wit and although the stories still lacked for brevity they were a breeze to read. It's an enjoyable book but a little unnecessary if you've already read Jonathan Strange.
Some time ago I read Susanna Clarke's gargantuan fantasy novel Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, and found it quite enjoyable although I feel that, as capable a writer as Clarke is, the conceit of a comically prim fantasy had worn out much of its humour by the end of nine hundred pages. The Ladies of Grace Adieu is a collection of eight short stories from the same setting as Jonathan Strange and again while they are well written I can't help but feel that this collection is just the same old trick being trotted out for a victory lap on the coattails of the substantial commercial success of the novel.
Nevertheless if more of the same is what one is after then The Ladies of Grace Adieu will not disappoint. The first few stories are a bit lackluster and tend to run a bit long but the second half of the book improves greatly in terms of wit and although the stories still lacked for brevity they were a breeze to read. It's an enjoyable book but a little unnecessary if you've already read Jonathan Strange.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
It's Just A Question Of How Much You Want It To Hurt
24 Season 5
I'm not entirely sure why I keep watching this show. In a lot of ways it's pretty stupid. There are only so many times in twenty four episodes you can think of new and exciting scenarios in which Jack Bauer has twenty minutes to save the president's dog from terrorists. Yet somehow it manages to deliver some good action and enough interesting plot twists for the better part of every episode, so it's worth sitting through the occasional scene where Keifer Sutherland emerges from the flames of a burning building while bombastic, patriotic music swells in the background to get to the good parts.
This has been one of the better seasons, with plenty of good twists and turns in the plot and a surprising ending. Not only does it end in a cliffhanger for the first time, it also doesn't reveal the true identities of the terrorist masterminds, who remain at large for more shenanigans next year.
The frustrating thing about the series is how although it deals with real political issues, namely terrorism and how to deal with it, it never actually offers any kind of insight to or commentary on these topics. This would be fine if they were merely offering a nonpartisan presentation of the imagined possibilities, but the writers actually seem to have little more in mind than smugly attempting to push the buttons of both liberals and conservatives.
I'd imagine the conservatives would have more to be offended by in this season. While the show seems to display a strong authoritarian bias (not an episode goes by without a terrorist suspect being tortured while being gleefully informed by Bauer that his civil rights are currently meaningless), it's hard to look past this year's mid season revelation that defined the story arc; that the terrorists are being directed by no less than the president of the USA as part of a plan to secure oil supplies.
As amusing as this was, and for all the schadenfreude gained from Gregory Itzen's performance as the president (sure he looks just like Nixon, but surely any resemblance between this gormless weakling suddenly thrust out of his depth and into a position of responsibility he is in no way suited for and any current US president you may think of is purely coincidental), the writing is just a bit too snide and it grates, even when it's reinforcing your own prejudices.
The character of Jack Bauer is similarly problematic. It's hard to empathise with his plight in being forced to torture his girlfriend when his fanatical willingness to do whatever it takes for the past four years incline the viewer to believe that he's secretly rather enjoying it.
But hey, you know I'll end up watching the next season all the same.
I'm not entirely sure why I keep watching this show. In a lot of ways it's pretty stupid. There are only so many times in twenty four episodes you can think of new and exciting scenarios in which Jack Bauer has twenty minutes to save the president's dog from terrorists. Yet somehow it manages to deliver some good action and enough interesting plot twists for the better part of every episode, so it's worth sitting through the occasional scene where Keifer Sutherland emerges from the flames of a burning building while bombastic, patriotic music swells in the background to get to the good parts.
This has been one of the better seasons, with plenty of good twists and turns in the plot and a surprising ending. Not only does it end in a cliffhanger for the first time, it also doesn't reveal the true identities of the terrorist masterminds, who remain at large for more shenanigans next year.
The frustrating thing about the series is how although it deals with real political issues, namely terrorism and how to deal with it, it never actually offers any kind of insight to or commentary on these topics. This would be fine if they were merely offering a nonpartisan presentation of the imagined possibilities, but the writers actually seem to have little more in mind than smugly attempting to push the buttons of both liberals and conservatives.
I'd imagine the conservatives would have more to be offended by in this season. While the show seems to display a strong authoritarian bias (not an episode goes by without a terrorist suspect being tortured while being gleefully informed by Bauer that his civil rights are currently meaningless), it's hard to look past this year's mid season revelation that defined the story arc; that the terrorists are being directed by no less than the president of the USA as part of a plan to secure oil supplies.
As amusing as this was, and for all the schadenfreude gained from Gregory Itzen's performance as the president (sure he looks just like Nixon, but surely any resemblance between this gormless weakling suddenly thrust out of his depth and into a position of responsibility he is in no way suited for and any current US president you may think of is purely coincidental), the writing is just a bit too snide and it grates, even when it's reinforcing your own prejudices.
The character of Jack Bauer is similarly problematic. It's hard to empathise with his plight in being forced to torture his girlfriend when his fanatical willingness to do whatever it takes for the past four years incline the viewer to believe that he's secretly rather enjoying it.
But hey, you know I'll end up watching the next season all the same.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Self
by Yann Martel
Way way back in the very early days of this blog one of the first posts I made was in regards to Yann Martel's Life of Pi, a Booker prize winning novel that I rather liked. Self is an earlier novel by the same author, and I didn't like it nearly as much.
The two books are in some ways quite similar, they both play little games with the narration and the reader's expectations, but in very different ways. This novel is supposedly an autobiography, although right from the start the reader is told this with a wink and a nudge. It is hard to say what parts are real and which are imagined, but I would guess that the bulk is probably true to life. Certainly the descriptions of boy's boarding school and university rang very true to my own memories of those kinds of places, but one can also be fairly certain that for example the scenes when the author spontaneously changes gender may not have happened in real life strictly as they appear on the page.
All the scenes and anecdotes in the book are rendered in clever post-modern literary type ways, but for every conceit that turns out to smart and witty there's another that is indulgent and grating. Most of the time it just gave me a desire to reread Dave Eggars' A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, but unfortunately it's buried somewhere in a box back in New Zealand.
The ending of the book takes a sudden and disturbing turn to the genuinely horrific which is more than a little unexpected. I hope for the author's sake that this particular section is not truly autobiographical but it's rendered with such vividness that I fear that it may actually be factual. At any rate it's an upsettingly memorable way to end what is up until then a very wry, distant autobiography.
It is a clever book in a lot of ways, and I'm sure plenty of English classes could be spent describing the themes and structure (I did like the way that things would have played out the same for the author regardless of the gender he/she wore at any given point in the novel), but the writing is not quite strong enough to support it. It's seems as though the author had plenty of good, intellectual ideas, but not quite the experience to pull them off successfully on a gut level. Of course it's an early novel and any roughness to it can be more than forgiven considering how well Life of Pi turned out.
Way way back in the very early days of this blog one of the first posts I made was in regards to Yann Martel's Life of Pi, a Booker prize winning novel that I rather liked. Self is an earlier novel by the same author, and I didn't like it nearly as much.
The two books are in some ways quite similar, they both play little games with the narration and the reader's expectations, but in very different ways. This novel is supposedly an autobiography, although right from the start the reader is told this with a wink and a nudge. It is hard to say what parts are real and which are imagined, but I would guess that the bulk is probably true to life. Certainly the descriptions of boy's boarding school and university rang very true to my own memories of those kinds of places, but one can also be fairly certain that for example the scenes when the author spontaneously changes gender may not have happened in real life strictly as they appear on the page.
All the scenes and anecdotes in the book are rendered in clever post-modern literary type ways, but for every conceit that turns out to smart and witty there's another that is indulgent and grating. Most of the time it just gave me a desire to reread Dave Eggars' A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, but unfortunately it's buried somewhere in a box back in New Zealand.
The ending of the book takes a sudden and disturbing turn to the genuinely horrific which is more than a little unexpected. I hope for the author's sake that this particular section is not truly autobiographical but it's rendered with such vividness that I fear that it may actually be factual. At any rate it's an upsettingly memorable way to end what is up until then a very wry, distant autobiography.
It is a clever book in a lot of ways, and I'm sure plenty of English classes could be spent describing the themes and structure (I did like the way that things would have played out the same for the author regardless of the gender he/she wore at any given point in the novel), but the writing is not quite strong enough to support it. It's seems as though the author had plenty of good, intellectual ideas, but not quite the experience to pull them off successfully on a gut level. Of course it's an early novel and any roughness to it can be more than forgiven considering how well Life of Pi turned out.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Death is the Road to Awe
The Fountain
Directed by Darren Aronofsky
Saw this one on a plane from Auckland to Sydney, which is probably far from the best way to experience it (it's a big screen movie), but at least I now have an excuse to buy it on DVD at some stage.
The Fountain is the latest film from Darren Aronofsky, director of two of my favourite movies Pi and Requiem for a Dream, and it does not disappoint even in comparison to its forbears. The storyline follows three sort-of parallel plot threads, one focusing on a Spanish conquistador, another involving a modern day cancer researcher, and the last in a trippy sci-fi setting where our protagonist (all three are played by Hugh Jackman), in this incarnation some kind of martial artist slash mystic, floats through space in a giant bubble enclosing a big tree. In each scenario Jackman is trying to save someone or something (played by Rachel Weisz); his country, his wife, or the aforementioned tree, and each scenario features a tree of life that grants immortality.
We spend the most time with the cancer researcher and the other threads merely shadow or influence this main thread. Despite the mystical hooha in the other threads the movie's point is a simple, relatable one, about dealing with the death of a loved one, both after the event and as it approaches, and about finding meaning in their life, both for those who remain once it's all said and done, and for the person who is dying before they go.
It's a tremendously sad but beautiful movie, not just because of the story but also because of the astounding visuals, rendered entirely without the aid of CGI, just old fashioned smoke and mirrors, and the results are stunning:
It was done this way because of budgetary constraints but it clearly worked out to the advantage of the film. Over the last few years we have become very accustomed to being bombarded by sleek shiny CGI that it's eye opening to see just how beautiful the old-fashioned, imperfect but detailed, analogue way of doing things still is.
Directed by Darren Aronofsky
Saw this one on a plane from Auckland to Sydney, which is probably far from the best way to experience it (it's a big screen movie), but at least I now have an excuse to buy it on DVD at some stage.
The Fountain is the latest film from Darren Aronofsky, director of two of my favourite movies Pi and Requiem for a Dream, and it does not disappoint even in comparison to its forbears. The storyline follows three sort-of parallel plot threads, one focusing on a Spanish conquistador, another involving a modern day cancer researcher, and the last in a trippy sci-fi setting where our protagonist (all three are played by Hugh Jackman), in this incarnation some kind of martial artist slash mystic, floats through space in a giant bubble enclosing a big tree. In each scenario Jackman is trying to save someone or something (played by Rachel Weisz); his country, his wife, or the aforementioned tree, and each scenario features a tree of life that grants immortality.
We spend the most time with the cancer researcher and the other threads merely shadow or influence this main thread. Despite the mystical hooha in the other threads the movie's point is a simple, relatable one, about dealing with the death of a loved one, both after the event and as it approaches, and about finding meaning in their life, both for those who remain once it's all said and done, and for the person who is dying before they go.
It's a tremendously sad but beautiful movie, not just because of the story but also because of the astounding visuals, rendered entirely without the aid of CGI, just old fashioned smoke and mirrors, and the results are stunning:
It was done this way because of budgetary constraints but it clearly worked out to the advantage of the film. Over the last few years we have become very accustomed to being bombarded by sleek shiny CGI that it's eye opening to see just how beautiful the old-fashioned, imperfect but detailed, analogue way of doing things still is.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
All Faith Forever Has Been Washed Away
Opeth – Still Life
Jon is still not sick of Opeth.
I've been busy listening to other stuff but my progress through Opeth's back catalogue continues behind the scenes. Still Life is one of the most highly regarded of their albums. Musically it is not much different from their later work: a combination of death metal and classic prog rock, melodic and beautiful in both modes and supported by brilliant technical musicianship.
Unlike the other albums of theirs I've been listening to this one is a concept album, telling the tale of a person who returns to the town of their birth to rescue their long lost love from the malevolent church in charge of the town. The concept didn't really add much for me, Akerfeldt's lyrics on this release suffer a little from 'Scandanavian guy writing in English' syndrome (i.e. when ones vocabulary slightly outstrips one's familiarity with the language), but it's no detraction either.
I don't like this album as much as Blackwater Park or Deliverance, as the songwriting doesn't quite reach the stellar heights of those albums and about half of the songs are relatively forgettable in comparison to their other work. Of course average by Opeth's standards is still pretty fucking good. The opening track 'The Moor' is a fan favourite for good reason, and the acoustic ballad 'Benighted' is very nice too. The highlight of the album however is 'Face of Melinda', which starts out as a ballad before getting a bit heavy towards the end. It manages to be bittersweet and edgy at the same time, and in contrast to what I just said about the album as a whole has some really great lyrics.
It does bear mentioning that this album does excel in one area when compared with it's peers, and that's the guitar solos. Akerfeldt and his six stringed henchman Peter Lindgren acquit themselves marvellously on all Opeth releases but on Still Life they've kicked things far and away into 'holy fucking shit' territory. At it's worst a guitar solo is a five minute masturbatory exercise in the listener's patience, but at it's best (and virtually every track on this album contains a perfect example) an instrumental solo expresses all the nameless things that can only be said by music with all the articulation of a vocal line without being weighed down by the crude limitations of mere language.
Jon is still not sick of Opeth.
I've been busy listening to other stuff but my progress through Opeth's back catalogue continues behind the scenes. Still Life is one of the most highly regarded of their albums. Musically it is not much different from their later work: a combination of death metal and classic prog rock, melodic and beautiful in both modes and supported by brilliant technical musicianship.
Unlike the other albums of theirs I've been listening to this one is a concept album, telling the tale of a person who returns to the town of their birth to rescue their long lost love from the malevolent church in charge of the town. The concept didn't really add much for me, Akerfeldt's lyrics on this release suffer a little from 'Scandanavian guy writing in English' syndrome (i.e. when ones vocabulary slightly outstrips one's familiarity with the language), but it's no detraction either.
I don't like this album as much as Blackwater Park or Deliverance, as the songwriting doesn't quite reach the stellar heights of those albums and about half of the songs are relatively forgettable in comparison to their other work. Of course average by Opeth's standards is still pretty fucking good. The opening track 'The Moor' is a fan favourite for good reason, and the acoustic ballad 'Benighted' is very nice too. The highlight of the album however is 'Face of Melinda', which starts out as a ballad before getting a bit heavy towards the end. It manages to be bittersweet and edgy at the same time, and in contrast to what I just said about the album as a whole has some really great lyrics.
It does bear mentioning that this album does excel in one area when compared with it's peers, and that's the guitar solos. Akerfeldt and his six stringed henchman Peter Lindgren acquit themselves marvellously on all Opeth releases but on Still Life they've kicked things far and away into 'holy fucking shit' territory. At it's worst a guitar solo is a five minute masturbatory exercise in the listener's patience, but at it's best (and virtually every track on this album contains a perfect example) an instrumental solo expresses all the nameless things that can only be said by music with all the articulation of a vocal line without being weighed down by the crude limitations of mere language.
Friday, March 30, 2007
On the Blood Red Snowy Ground
Burzum – Burzum/Aske
You may recall that some time ago I wrote about Burzum's most recent album Hildskalf (insert your own arbitrary germanic character accents). Burzum is the work of the infamous Varg Vikarnes, considered the godfather of black metal mainly for being one of the first to define the genre's current sound (even though he considers most of the current practitioners to be posers and sellouts) but also for walking the walk in regards to the antisocial behaviour expected of a trve black metaller (i.e. the church burning, the satanism/paganism, the murder, the neo-Nazism and so on).
As it happens Hildskalf was not in any way a black metal album so I went back to his first release (actually his first two EPs concatenated onto a single album) which is more or less a textbook example of the genre. Probably because these early Burzum albums are the textbooks which later black metallers composed by.
Seminal as this album may be, it's not much more than an average listen. Varg's vocals are impressive, being one of the few examples I've heard of the standard black metal howl/gurgle that doesn't sound stupid, and the music, which is so stripped back as to be almost punk in some ways, is agreeable but in no way inspiring enough to justify this guy's inflated reputation. However there are a couple of ambient/industrial tracks included which I quite liked (especially 'Dungeons of Darkness', rattley, scrapey goodness!). I suspect that this album and Hildskalf are not his best works so I shall continue on with the other albums.
Varg claims to have recorded the whole thing in seventeen hours and played all the instruments himself (save for a guest guitar solo on 'War' by, you guessed it, Euronymous, the dude Varg is currently in jail for killing). That's quite impressive (If it's true that is. It must be borne in mind that this comes from the guy who says things like “I'm not a Nazi because I don't believe in 'national socialism'” and “I was framed for the murder! The police said that they found my fingerprints on the knife, but I wore gloves when I killed him!”) and even I, lover of over produced technical death metal, have respect for the purism of his back to basics, one take (mistakes and all) approach, and the fact that he made such a professional sounding album even within those constraints.
You may recall that some time ago I wrote about Burzum's most recent album Hildskalf (insert your own arbitrary germanic character accents). Burzum is the work of the infamous Varg Vikarnes, considered the godfather of black metal mainly for being one of the first to define the genre's current sound (even though he considers most of the current practitioners to be posers and sellouts) but also for walking the walk in regards to the antisocial behaviour expected of a trve black metaller (i.e. the church burning, the satanism/paganism, the murder, the neo-Nazism and so on).
As it happens Hildskalf was not in any way a black metal album so I went back to his first release (actually his first two EPs concatenated onto a single album) which is more or less a textbook example of the genre. Probably because these early Burzum albums are the textbooks which later black metallers composed by.
Seminal as this album may be, it's not much more than an average listen. Varg's vocals are impressive, being one of the few examples I've heard of the standard black metal howl/gurgle that doesn't sound stupid, and the music, which is so stripped back as to be almost punk in some ways, is agreeable but in no way inspiring enough to justify this guy's inflated reputation. However there are a couple of ambient/industrial tracks included which I quite liked (especially 'Dungeons of Darkness', rattley, scrapey goodness!). I suspect that this album and Hildskalf are not his best works so I shall continue on with the other albums.
Varg claims to have recorded the whole thing in seventeen hours and played all the instruments himself (save for a guest guitar solo on 'War' by, you guessed it, Euronymous, the dude Varg is currently in jail for killing). That's quite impressive (If it's true that is. It must be borne in mind that this comes from the guy who says things like “I'm not a Nazi because I don't believe in 'national socialism'” and “I was framed for the murder! The police said that they found my fingerprints on the knife, but I wore gloves when I killed him!”) and even I, lover of over produced technical death metal, have respect for the purism of his back to basics, one take (mistakes and all) approach, and the fact that he made such a professional sounding album even within those constraints.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
In the Next War We Shall Bury the Dead in Cellophane
Old Man Gloom – Christmas
This album was a completely random discovery encountered during my mission to illicitly download some Converge. Much to my astonishment I was completely blown away by how brilliant it was. A quick wikipedia search revealed the source of the awesomeness; Old Man Gloom is a supergroup of sorts boasting the presence of, among others, members of Isis and Converge. Fuck yeah.
This album alternates minimalist ambient tracks with heavy hardcore songs, and the contrast is quite striking. The ambient tracks are moody and disturbing (but great), the best example being 'Something for the Mrs.', in which an unpleasant sounding male voice recites absurd but unsettling nonsense about religion and war over a brooding ambient soundscape. These tracks are in the main the ones that stay with you after listening to the album. Like all the best ambient music it's beautiful but laden with sadness and regret, and in this case with a little disquieting menace.
The heavy tracks are brutal and angry, but nowhere near as affecting as the quiet ones. Fortunately they make up for it with sheer rock-your-face-off brilliance. The best track is 'The Volcano', which is a genuine revelation to listen to. The preceding ambient track fades into a quiet but menacing guitar riff, which is soon complemented by the meanest fucking bass figure ever written, boasting what is the most pants-creamingly crunchy bass guitar tone I've ever heard. After a decent few minutes of this it erupts into screamy hardcore bliss, with riffs so fucking awesome that they'll melt your face. If you like heavy music, run, don't walk, to soulseek and download 'The Volcano' by Old Man Gloom. Best song I've heard all year.
This album was a completely random discovery encountered during my mission to illicitly download some Converge. Much to my astonishment I was completely blown away by how brilliant it was. A quick wikipedia search revealed the source of the awesomeness; Old Man Gloom is a supergroup of sorts boasting the presence of, among others, members of Isis and Converge. Fuck yeah.
This album alternates minimalist ambient tracks with heavy hardcore songs, and the contrast is quite striking. The ambient tracks are moody and disturbing (but great), the best example being 'Something for the Mrs.', in which an unpleasant sounding male voice recites absurd but unsettling nonsense about religion and war over a brooding ambient soundscape. These tracks are in the main the ones that stay with you after listening to the album. Like all the best ambient music it's beautiful but laden with sadness and regret, and in this case with a little disquieting menace.
The heavy tracks are brutal and angry, but nowhere near as affecting as the quiet ones. Fortunately they make up for it with sheer rock-your-face-off brilliance. The best track is 'The Volcano', which is a genuine revelation to listen to. The preceding ambient track fades into a quiet but menacing guitar riff, which is soon complemented by the meanest fucking bass figure ever written, boasting what is the most pants-creamingly crunchy bass guitar tone I've ever heard. After a decent few minutes of this it erupts into screamy hardcore bliss, with riffs so fucking awesome that they'll melt your face. If you like heavy music, run, don't walk, to soulseek and download 'The Volcano' by Old Man Gloom. Best song I've heard all year.
Fragile Things
by Neil Gaiman
The non fiction books I spent most of last year reading were fascinating, but man did it take me a long time to get through them. However as soon as I finished them I quickly breezed through Neil Gaiman's latest short story collection in a couple of days. I didn't enjoy it quite as much as Smoke and Mirrors, but it's still a fine read.
In the years since the last collection came out Gaiman's style has changed very little. All the stories are fantasy (or maybe sci-fi) but with a solid real world grounding (and sometimes the fantasy elements are a pretty light touch), although this time around the stories are less clever or whimsical and more sinister.
The first story is 'A Study in Emerald', which is an original mashup of Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos and Sherlock Holmes. In most writers hands this would be a terrible idea but Gaiman of course infuses it with wry wit and makes it the best idea in the world.
In 'October in the Chair' the months of the year sit around and tell stories. It's a typically Neil sort of story idea, and it gets mentioned in most reviews of the book as one of the best, but I didn't like it. It possibly had something to do with the attributes of the months being the opposite to what I think they should be.
'Forbidden Brides of the Faceless Slaves in the Secret House of the Night of Dread Desire' is just as cute and self-referential as the title suggests but is fairly amusing all the same. It's followed by a selection of ghost stories, all of which are very effective. 'Closing Time' has that classic ghost story kind of creepy imagery that lingers in the mind, but 'The Flints of Memory Lane' is scarier, probably because Gaiman claims that it's a true story from his childhood, and despite the lack of anything truly supernatural or dangerous, the detail evokes memories of those times when, as a child, you find yourself completely spooked by something for reasons you can't explain. 'Bitter Grounds' is another weird one. Gaiman's short stories sometimes have a way of hitting you with an random event at the end, and then sitting back and looking smugly at you as if to say “What's the matter? Don't you get it?” while the reader scratches his head and says “Yeah kind of, but it just doesn't quite fit...” I have yet to determine if this is because (a) I am dumb, (b) Neil isn't quite as clever as he thinks he is or (c) it's meant to be like that because Neil just likes to leave the reader with a sensation of dissatisfaction that they can't quite articulate the reason behind. I'm leaning towards (c).
'The Problem of Susan' is also noteworthy, for it's nasty, disturbing take on C.S. Lewis' high school chaplain approved Narnia series. As unpleasant as it was to read, I have to admit getting a good deal of satisfaction out of seeing an areligious counterargument to Lewis' books, which have always pissed me off. Thanks for ruining a perfectly good fantasy series with your stinky fucking religion, jackass.
The highlights of the collection are 'How to Talk to Girls at Parties' and 'The Day the Saucers Came'. The former does the standard post-modern fantasy story thing and takes an everyday cliché (in this case that to an adolescent boy girls may as well be from another planet) and makes it literal. It made me wish that I could meet some girls who were actually from another planet. 'The Day the Saucers Came' is a short poem that merges wit and poignancy flawlessly.
Not every story is a winner, I thought 'Diseasemaker's Croup' was a bit boring and stupid, but the rest of the book ranges from good too brilliant. The last story in the collection is 'Monarch of the Glen', which is a kind of sequel to American Gods, checking up on its protagonist Shadow a few years after the end of the novel, although it's more about Scotland than Shadow, who doesn't really do much in this story. It's still a much better sequel than Anansi Boys though.
The non fiction books I spent most of last year reading were fascinating, but man did it take me a long time to get through them. However as soon as I finished them I quickly breezed through Neil Gaiman's latest short story collection in a couple of days. I didn't enjoy it quite as much as Smoke and Mirrors, but it's still a fine read.
In the years since the last collection came out Gaiman's style has changed very little. All the stories are fantasy (or maybe sci-fi) but with a solid real world grounding (and sometimes the fantasy elements are a pretty light touch), although this time around the stories are less clever or whimsical and more sinister.
The first story is 'A Study in Emerald', which is an original mashup of Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos and Sherlock Holmes. In most writers hands this would be a terrible idea but Gaiman of course infuses it with wry wit and makes it the best idea in the world.
In 'October in the Chair' the months of the year sit around and tell stories. It's a typically Neil sort of story idea, and it gets mentioned in most reviews of the book as one of the best, but I didn't like it. It possibly had something to do with the attributes of the months being the opposite to what I think they should be.
'Forbidden Brides of the Faceless Slaves in the Secret House of the Night of Dread Desire' is just as cute and self-referential as the title suggests but is fairly amusing all the same. It's followed by a selection of ghost stories, all of which are very effective. 'Closing Time' has that classic ghost story kind of creepy imagery that lingers in the mind, but 'The Flints of Memory Lane' is scarier, probably because Gaiman claims that it's a true story from his childhood, and despite the lack of anything truly supernatural or dangerous, the detail evokes memories of those times when, as a child, you find yourself completely spooked by something for reasons you can't explain. 'Bitter Grounds' is another weird one. Gaiman's short stories sometimes have a way of hitting you with an random event at the end, and then sitting back and looking smugly at you as if to say “What's the matter? Don't you get it?” while the reader scratches his head and says “Yeah kind of, but it just doesn't quite fit...” I have yet to determine if this is because (a) I am dumb, (b) Neil isn't quite as clever as he thinks he is or (c) it's meant to be like that because Neil just likes to leave the reader with a sensation of dissatisfaction that they can't quite articulate the reason behind. I'm leaning towards (c).
'The Problem of Susan' is also noteworthy, for it's nasty, disturbing take on C.S. Lewis' high school chaplain approved Narnia series. As unpleasant as it was to read, I have to admit getting a good deal of satisfaction out of seeing an areligious counterargument to Lewis' books, which have always pissed me off. Thanks for ruining a perfectly good fantasy series with your stinky fucking religion, jackass.
The highlights of the collection are 'How to Talk to Girls at Parties' and 'The Day the Saucers Came'. The former does the standard post-modern fantasy story thing and takes an everyday cliché (in this case that to an adolescent boy girls may as well be from another planet) and makes it literal. It made me wish that I could meet some girls who were actually from another planet. 'The Day the Saucers Came' is a short poem that merges wit and poignancy flawlessly.
Not every story is a winner, I thought 'Diseasemaker's Croup' was a bit boring and stupid, but the rest of the book ranges from good too brilliant. The last story in the collection is 'Monarch of the Glen', which is a kind of sequel to American Gods, checking up on its protagonist Shadow a few years after the end of the novel, although it's more about Scotland than Shadow, who doesn't really do much in this story. It's still a much better sequel than Anansi Boys though.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
What If Everything Around You Isn't Quite What It Seems?
Nine Inch Nails – Beside You In Time
Assuming nothing goes awry between now and April 17th this might be the first year that the Wildebeest Asylum does not award the Trent Reznor Award for the Best Album That Was Supposed To Come Out This Year But Didn't to Trent Reznor. The new album is looking set for a April release and the new DVD is already out. Also, Trent is no longer even pretending that the Closure DVD will be out any time soon. He even quietly released a high quality version of the Broken movie. Trent's sobriety certainly does seem to have rendered quite a change in his work ethic.
The new DVD seems in some ways to be a little superfluous. And All That Could Have Been was released after the last tour, and it was a pretty solid effort; two discs packed full of drunk Trent at his best. Beside You In Time doesn't really contain anything that it's predecessor didn't, save for a different setlist and a different band, but it is cool to get a chance to see the stage show and the songs from the With Teeth tour that didn't make it to the Sydney show.
For example they do some very neat stuff with a translucent curtain that drops down in front of the stage during the middle of the show, using it to play videos while the band is still visible behind it. The videos themselves are brilliant. 'Eraser' is suitably freaky and disturbing, while 'Right Where It Belongs' is truly affecting, in that weird NIN kind of way, somehow making beauty out of the strangest components: mundane shots of suburban houses and supermarkets, slow motion nature show footage of animals eating one another, and even more unpleasant things, such as George W. Bush and his wife dancing. 'Beside You In Time' is another highlight, a song that I was sorely disappointed not to get at the Sydney show, but it's very cool at the climax when Trent throws his microphone stand through the curtain and the videos play an image of a glass screen shattering.
It's interesting to compare the band in this DVD with the old one. Josh Freese puts poor old Jerome 'competent but not very exciting' Dillon to shame as a drummer. The new guitarist, Aaron North, is a lot better than Robin Finck (I was especially impressed by his mastery of feedback), but there's just something about his style that I dislike. I'm probably just biased because he's so emo. I do miss Charlie Clouser on keyboards and Danny Lohner on bass though. Those guys were cool.
The disc also contains the music videos for 'The Hand That Feeds' and 'Only', the two most boringist Nine Inch Nails videos ever. The DVD is still worth a purchase, but I would have much rather have received Closure.
Assuming nothing goes awry between now and April 17th this might be the first year that the Wildebeest Asylum does not award the Trent Reznor Award for the Best Album That Was Supposed To Come Out This Year But Didn't to Trent Reznor. The new album is looking set for a April release and the new DVD is already out. Also, Trent is no longer even pretending that the Closure DVD will be out any time soon. He even quietly released a high quality version of the Broken movie. Trent's sobriety certainly does seem to have rendered quite a change in his work ethic.
The new DVD seems in some ways to be a little superfluous. And All That Could Have Been was released after the last tour, and it was a pretty solid effort; two discs packed full of drunk Trent at his best. Beside You In Time doesn't really contain anything that it's predecessor didn't, save for a different setlist and a different band, but it is cool to get a chance to see the stage show and the songs from the With Teeth tour that didn't make it to the Sydney show.
For example they do some very neat stuff with a translucent curtain that drops down in front of the stage during the middle of the show, using it to play videos while the band is still visible behind it. The videos themselves are brilliant. 'Eraser' is suitably freaky and disturbing, while 'Right Where It Belongs' is truly affecting, in that weird NIN kind of way, somehow making beauty out of the strangest components: mundane shots of suburban houses and supermarkets, slow motion nature show footage of animals eating one another, and even more unpleasant things, such as George W. Bush and his wife dancing. 'Beside You In Time' is another highlight, a song that I was sorely disappointed not to get at the Sydney show, but it's very cool at the climax when Trent throws his microphone stand through the curtain and the videos play an image of a glass screen shattering.
It's interesting to compare the band in this DVD with the old one. Josh Freese puts poor old Jerome 'competent but not very exciting' Dillon to shame as a drummer. The new guitarist, Aaron North, is a lot better than Robin Finck (I was especially impressed by his mastery of feedback), but there's just something about his style that I dislike. I'm probably just biased because he's so emo. I do miss Charlie Clouser on keyboards and Danny Lohner on bass though. Those guys were cool.
The disc also contains the music videos for 'The Hand That Feeds' and 'Only', the two most boringist Nine Inch Nails videos ever. The DVD is still worth a purchase, but I would have much rather have received Closure.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
1001 Albums - Number 4
Louis Prima – The Wildest!
Despite a poor start the old 1001 albums list seems to be holding up OK. Louis Prima, while no major revelation, is good, fun listening, and 'I Ain't Got Nobody' (come on, you know it) is a genuinely great song.
Prima is a jazz trumpeter, although this takes back seat to his singing on most tracks, and this album bops jazzily along in an agreeable manner, aided by his sweet voiced wife Keely Smith (twenty years his younger, so scandalous!)
Unlike the grim and mournful Tragic Songs of Life, this album is bright and bouncy the whole way through. The subject matter is a bit dirtier than on the other albums from this era that I've listened to. '(I'll Be Glad When You're Dead) You Rascal You' is about exactly what the title says, and describes Prima's heartfelt desire to see this person (or perhaps it's an animal) dead in an extremely jovial tone.
This album is similar to the Louvin Brother's album in that, despite the poppy manner of the music, it's content (in this case a little bit of raunch, in theirs murder and edginess) has a little of the transgressive nature of later styles of rock music that would descend from it.
Despite a poor start the old 1001 albums list seems to be holding up OK. Louis Prima, while no major revelation, is good, fun listening, and 'I Ain't Got Nobody' (come on, you know it) is a genuinely great song.
Prima is a jazz trumpeter, although this takes back seat to his singing on most tracks, and this album bops jazzily along in an agreeable manner, aided by his sweet voiced wife Keely Smith (twenty years his younger, so scandalous!)
Unlike the grim and mournful Tragic Songs of Life, this album is bright and bouncy the whole way through. The subject matter is a bit dirtier than on the other albums from this era that I've listened to. '(I'll Be Glad When You're Dead) You Rascal You' is about exactly what the title says, and describes Prima's heartfelt desire to see this person (or perhaps it's an animal) dead in an extremely jovial tone.
This album is similar to the Louvin Brother's album in that, despite the poppy manner of the music, it's content (in this case a little bit of raunch, in theirs murder and edginess) has a little of the transgressive nature of later styles of rock music that would descend from it.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Dead Bodies Just Seem To Fall Before Me
Suffocation – Souls to Deny and Breeding the Spawn
In anticipation of their concert last month I went out and bought a few more Suffocation albums. Souls to Deny is their most recent release besides their self titled, whereas Breeding the Spawn dates all the way back to 1993.
Souls to Deny is fairly similar to it's successor in style, but lacks most of it's catchiness and spirit. They seem to have concentrated on technical achievement at the expense of everything else, and it's not nearly as much fun as the self titled.
Breeding the Spawn on the other hand is brilliant. Even fourteen years ago these guys were maniacs on their instruments (maybe not quite to the degree that they are now), and they have all the energy and talent that they showed on Suffocation. As this is one of their earliest releases it comes as no surprise that it suffers from some impressively shitty production, which unfortunately renders the cool bass work all but imperceptible.
This stuff is all good but I think three albums are enough, at least for now. I'm not so much of a noise headed death metaller that I can listen to this stuff all day and after a while I find myself really really needing a change of tone. Unless it's Opeth. I can listen to those guys for a week and not get tired of it.
In anticipation of their concert last month I went out and bought a few more Suffocation albums. Souls to Deny is their most recent release besides their self titled, whereas Breeding the Spawn dates all the way back to 1993.
Souls to Deny is fairly similar to it's successor in style, but lacks most of it's catchiness and spirit. They seem to have concentrated on technical achievement at the expense of everything else, and it's not nearly as much fun as the self titled.
Breeding the Spawn on the other hand is brilliant. Even fourteen years ago these guys were maniacs on their instruments (maybe not quite to the degree that they are now), and they have all the energy and talent that they showed on Suffocation. As this is one of their earliest releases it comes as no surprise that it suffers from some impressively shitty production, which unfortunately renders the cool bass work all but imperceptible.
This stuff is all good but I think three albums are enough, at least for now. I'm not so much of a noise headed death metaller that I can listen to this stuff all day and after a while I find myself really really needing a change of tone. Unless it's Opeth. I can listen to those guys for a week and not get tired of it.
Friday, March 23, 2007
No One Will Break Your Fall
Converge – Live in Sydney, 22nd March
Well as it happens the concert scene was a little quiet while I was internetless, so there's nothing exciting that I've been gagging to post about, but we're straight back into it this week with Converge, on their first ever Australian tour.
I was surprised that they were playing at such a small venue, a little student bar at UNSW, and for so cheap. Only $30! I thought they were much more popular than that. (They certainly deserve to be more popular than fucking Satyricon.) The t-shirts were reasonably priced too, I'm not much of a band t-shirt wearer but for $20 I was persuaded to get one.
The lighting actually was this dim, it's not just my camera
The crowd was very uni, and to be honest I was far from being in the mood to be surrounded by screaming, giggling first years. On the plus side, my first hand reporting has now confirmed my hypothesis from last year. Hardcore chicks are hot.
These guys ran around the stage so much that it's hard to get a photo of them that doesn't look blurry
The opening acts were OK. First up were Hospital... uh... something something... as you can tell they really made an impression. They were OK but they really were basically a crappier version of Converge, only with beards. Next up were '4 Dead', who didn't impress me much but sure got the mosh pit going and had plenty of stage antics and energy. One of the guitarists wore a Converge t-shirt. I've found that Sydney is pretty bad for “You're the guy wearing the t-shirt of the band you're going to see. Don't be that guy.” but this is the first time I've come across a case of “You're the guy wearing the t-shirt of the band you're opening for. Please don't be that guy.”
The guitarist opens with an extended intro to 'Plagues'
But on to Converge. The setlist is pretty hard for me to remember, even with the vocalist introducing most of the songs by name, but among the songs played were:
Plagues
No Heroes
Eagles Become Vultures
The Broken Vow
Vengeance
A bunch of short, brutal tracks. I think I heard at least parts of 'Drop Out' and 'Hope Street'
A bunch of old stuff that I didn't know
Heartless
Concubine
The encore was 'The Saddest Day', another old song that I didn't know, but judging by the crowd reaction a genuine fan favourite.
Yep. I'm afraid these are the best photos I got
The band delivered with all the energy they have on record, and stuck pretty close to the way they sound on their albums. The moshpit was fucking crazy and a good time was had by all. The vocalist was a really great frontman, delivering all the hardcore clichés ('believe in yourself', 'look your enemies in the eye and tell them that you're better than they are') with real passion, which I guess makes them not really clichés any more. One thing he said did stick with me, “This song is about the worst person I have ever met. This world is standing at a crossroads; you can choose to be a demon or a king or a queen,” which I thought was really cool (they then proceeded to belt out an awesome version of 'Concubine' to close the set), but it made me think. So often hardcore bands make political intimations, but they rarely come out and say what side they are actually on. With most bands you can assume they're lefties, but hardcore and black metal as genres sometimes have definite right wing tendencies, so you can never be sure. If I were to guess I'd say Converge were lefties but I honestly don't know. Anyway, it's interesting that hardcore bands often keep their political allegiances close to their chests. I'd guess that maybe they feel that no matter what they are, they're going to alienate half of their fanbase...
You can't really tell from this picture but that's the vocalist crowd surfing
Anyway the concert itself was great. Not up to Tool or Isis standards but fucking great all the same. These guys seem to genuinely want to do the best for their fans, as demonstrated by their reasonably priced merchandise, the constant, genuine stage banter and the way the vocalist stuck around after the last song and shook the hands of everyone in the front row. The highlight of the set for me was 'Concubine' (I was hoping for 'Grim Heart/Black Rose' but that was always going to be a long shot), but I didn't know much of the old stuff (although the audience clearly did). I hope these guys come back again soon when I've had time to consume a few more of their albums.
Well as it happens the concert scene was a little quiet while I was internetless, so there's nothing exciting that I've been gagging to post about, but we're straight back into it this week with Converge, on their first ever Australian tour.
I was surprised that they were playing at such a small venue, a little student bar at UNSW, and for so cheap. Only $30! I thought they were much more popular than that. (They certainly deserve to be more popular than fucking Satyricon.) The t-shirts were reasonably priced too, I'm not much of a band t-shirt wearer but for $20 I was persuaded to get one.
The lighting actually was this dim, it's not just my cameraThe crowd was very uni, and to be honest I was far from being in the mood to be surrounded by screaming, giggling first years. On the plus side, my first hand reporting has now confirmed my hypothesis from last year. Hardcore chicks are hot.
These guys ran around the stage so much that it's hard to get a photo of them that doesn't look blurry
The guitarist opens with an extended intro to 'Plagues'Plagues
No Heroes
Eagles Become Vultures
The Broken Vow
Vengeance
A bunch of short, brutal tracks. I think I heard at least parts of 'Drop Out' and 'Hope Street'
A bunch of old stuff that I didn't know
Heartless
Concubine
The encore was 'The Saddest Day', another old song that I didn't know, but judging by the crowd reaction a genuine fan favourite.
Yep. I'm afraid these are the best photos I got
You can't really tell from this picture but that's the vocalist crowd surfingThursday, March 22, 2007
Ideas
by Peter Watson
Fancy that. I actually finished two books in a week. Of course it's then taken me a month to actually get this post up, but I think I can fairly claim extenuating circumstances. This one's a real mammoth and it took me about six months to get through. Not because it's boring or hard to read but (a) because of sheer length and (b) because it's so dense; full of information, history and of course, ideas...
Ideas is a world history of human thought, covering a time span from the dawn of humanity to about 1900CE. Battles, inventions and great men are mentioned, but only in order to give context to a narrative of the way in which people have viewed themselves and the world around them. It's somewhat disturbing to see just how much this has changed; it frightens me to think that even a thousand years ago most Europeans honestly believed that life was meant to be a painful and miserable punishment for Adam's sin, and if you go back further to the ancient Greeks, not to mention earlier societies in Asia and the middle east, the mindsets are truly alien to us.
The author's voice and opinions are very strongly imprinted on the interpretation of events but this didn't detract from the book at all, even when I found that I disagreed. The only complaint I would make is that it's a bit Euro-centric, at least from the midway point (the pre-renaissance) onwards, but to be fair a justification is put forward for that decision.
There's just so much interesting stuff packed into this book that it's quite impossible to give an overview of all the cool stuff I learned from it, but a few things stand out as being notable. Firstly, the so called 'axial age', the birth of the modern religions, coincides with the first appearance of another, more abstract, concept: the bad idea. Until this point it's one back-patting success after another: fire, the city, writing, civilisation, a code of laws. Once we hit about 400BC we start getting things like slavery and racism. My interpretation is of course contradicted if you buy Jared Diamond's theory that the original bad idea was moving from a hunter gatherer lifestyle to a sedentary one, but while it's an interesting hypothesis it's little more than conjecture.
The other thing that stuck with me was the author's link between what he calls the hinge of history (the period around 1200CE in which commerce and learning in Europe began to recover from the dark ages and set the stage for the renaissance) and the rise of the belief in the importance of the individual. I'm not sure how this triggered the acceleration of science and technology that ushered in the renaissance and the modern era, but it's an interesting synchronicity.
There's loads of other stuff I could mention, but suffice it to say that this is a pretty cool book, and it presents history through a new and thought provoking perspective.
Fancy that. I actually finished two books in a week. Of course it's then taken me a month to actually get this post up, but I think I can fairly claim extenuating circumstances. This one's a real mammoth and it took me about six months to get through. Not because it's boring or hard to read but (a) because of sheer length and (b) because it's so dense; full of information, history and of course, ideas...
Ideas is a world history of human thought, covering a time span from the dawn of humanity to about 1900CE. Battles, inventions and great men are mentioned, but only in order to give context to a narrative of the way in which people have viewed themselves and the world around them. It's somewhat disturbing to see just how much this has changed; it frightens me to think that even a thousand years ago most Europeans honestly believed that life was meant to be a painful and miserable punishment for Adam's sin, and if you go back further to the ancient Greeks, not to mention earlier societies in Asia and the middle east, the mindsets are truly alien to us.
The author's voice and opinions are very strongly imprinted on the interpretation of events but this didn't detract from the book at all, even when I found that I disagreed. The only complaint I would make is that it's a bit Euro-centric, at least from the midway point (the pre-renaissance) onwards, but to be fair a justification is put forward for that decision.
There's just so much interesting stuff packed into this book that it's quite impossible to give an overview of all the cool stuff I learned from it, but a few things stand out as being notable. Firstly, the so called 'axial age', the birth of the modern religions, coincides with the first appearance of another, more abstract, concept: the bad idea. Until this point it's one back-patting success after another: fire, the city, writing, civilisation, a code of laws. Once we hit about 400BC we start getting things like slavery and racism. My interpretation is of course contradicted if you buy Jared Diamond's theory that the original bad idea was moving from a hunter gatherer lifestyle to a sedentary one, but while it's an interesting hypothesis it's little more than conjecture.
The other thing that stuck with me was the author's link between what he calls the hinge of history (the period around 1200CE in which commerce and learning in Europe began to recover from the dark ages and set the stage for the renaissance) and the rise of the belief in the importance of the individual. I'm not sure how this triggered the acceleration of science and technology that ushered in the renaissance and the modern era, but it's an interesting synchronicity.
There's loads of other stuff I could mention, but suffice it to say that this is a pretty cool book, and it presents history through a new and thought provoking perspective.
Friday, March 02, 2007
The End(?)
A pall of smoke hangs over the once tranquil field. The ashes of the Wildebeest Asylum still hang in the air, drifting slowly to the ground. Those assembled hold their breath, the unspoken tension pregnant with the memory of what they had just witnessed; the death of a mighty blog, once first among it's peers, now brought down at what would appear to be the moment of it's triumph.
One by one the onlookers leave, hearts made heavy by what they had seen. But a glimmer of hope burned still, for all had heard the prophet's words:
One by one the onlookers leave, hearts made heavy by what they had seen. But a glimmer of hope burned still, for all had heard the prophet's words:
"No man can say when the day will come. But all know within their deepest selves that it shall. On the day when the sun stands still, the dead walk once more and Jonathan gets internet access in his new flat, then the Wildebeest Asylum shall return, born anew as a phoenix from the ashes. Though the way may seem dark and troubled and some shall lose faith, believe that this most wonderous of blogs has not forgotten you, and will return in your hour of need."Some dismissed the message as the senile ravings of an old man, but others kept the flame burning in their hearts. Patiently awaiting the day that a new post would appear.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
The Pursuit of Oblivion
by Richard Davenport-Hines
I'm in love with Kinokuniya, a bookshop here in central Sydney. I've made so many impulse buys there over the last year that there's a 'to read' stack as high as my bed in my room. The very first time I walked in there this book caught my eye, and although I had to wait a few months until my finances had stabilised to go on the book buying orgy I longed for, it was the first one I picked up when I did.
The subtitle of the book is 'A social history of drugs', and the first half covers drug use in traditional societies and the advent of the first synthetic drugs (namely opium and cocaine). It's very interesting to learn about how social attitudes towards these substances evolved, but it's presented very dryly and wasn't quite as full of prurient details as I hoped. The second half, while still broadly following the same subject, takes a sudden and impassioned turn in style as the author's outrage at the incredible harm done by the western world's (and most notably the USA's) drug policies can no longer be hidden behind guardedly passive non-fiction prose.
And it's hard not to get angry yourself while reading it. It makes sense when you think about it but I was surprised to learn that making drug use a criminal act is a convention that has only been around for a little over a century. Before then opiate and cocaine addiction were primarily afflictions of the middle and upper classes (at least in Europe) and it was treated (rightly) as merely a health issue. The only reason this approach failed was because of the poorly thought out medical decisions made by the doctors of the time:
Another interesting insight is that every traditional culture in the world has it's own method of getting fucked up, based on the available plantlife; in Europe this was alcohol, in the middle east it was marijuana, in South America it was cocoa leaves and in Asia it was opium. Guess which one is acceptable in western society and which ones are regarded as deviant and dangerous. Also consider the nature of the puritanical anti-drugs campaigns when these drugs were first introduced to America; the dirty Mexicans raping white women while high on marijuana and the shifty Chinese creating hives of sin in their opium dens. From this perspective, the motives behind drug prohibition are often quite racist.
But despite the vitriol directed towards the various figureheads of prohibition (Thatcher and Reagan get pretty bad thrashings, but not the worst) the book gives us little insight into why this culture of finger waving wowserism came about so suddenly. There have always been religious nutters and Jim Andertons around, but they never succeeded in having their way until the late 1800s. Understanding what truly drives these people would seem to me to be an important part of engaging with their ideas, but it is left unexamined here.
Nevertheless the points the book does make are good ones. Firstly, that the common media caricature of the drug user, lower class, living in a dirty hole in the wall, not caring about anything but his or her next fix, has never been accurate. The middle and upper classes have always enjoyed indulging and most (but of course not all) manage to do so without ruining their professional or domestic lives. Secondly, that any level headed look at drug use must admit that besides the obvious bad effects that it has, humanity has and always has had a natural inclination towards getting fucking out of it (the titular pursuit of oblivion) and most, if not all, attempts at prohibition do not even acknowledge this fact, betraying their lack of grounding in any kind of interest in practical realities. Lastly, history and economics both show that any attempt to prohibit an intoxicating substance desirable by a large number of people is fighting futilely against the laws of supply and demand. Any success in restricting the supply simply increases the profitability for the criminal organisations importing it, and a significant number of end users will pay any price to get it, perhaps by resorting to crime, but more probably just because those who can afford it will always put a premium on having fun.
But tell all that to the Jim Andertons of the world. They haven't listened for the past hundred years, while they've squandered billions on an unwinnable war against (some) drugs, and they're not likely to start now.
I'm in love with Kinokuniya, a bookshop here in central Sydney. I've made so many impulse buys there over the last year that there's a 'to read' stack as high as my bed in my room. The very first time I walked in there this book caught my eye, and although I had to wait a few months until my finances had stabilised to go on the book buying orgy I longed for, it was the first one I picked up when I did.
The subtitle of the book is 'A social history of drugs', and the first half covers drug use in traditional societies and the advent of the first synthetic drugs (namely opium and cocaine). It's very interesting to learn about how social attitudes towards these substances evolved, but it's presented very dryly and wasn't quite as full of prurient details as I hoped. The second half, while still broadly following the same subject, takes a sudden and impassioned turn in style as the author's outrage at the incredible harm done by the western world's (and most notably the USA's) drug policies can no longer be hidden behind guardedly passive non-fiction prose.
And it's hard not to get angry yourself while reading it. It makes sense when you think about it but I was surprised to learn that making drug use a criminal act is a convention that has only been around for a little over a century. Before then opiate and cocaine addiction were primarily afflictions of the middle and upper classes (at least in Europe) and it was treated (rightly) as merely a health issue. The only reason this approach failed was because of the poorly thought out medical decisions made by the doctors of the time:
“It was his [Dr. Alexander Wood, 1817-1884] idea that taking opiates through the mouth, and the act of swallowing, created an appetite, like other forms of food and drink. He became convinced that if the drug was injected rather than swallowed, patients would not hunger for it. He was wrong.”Other shining moments of exemplary medical science documented in the book include deciding to wean patients off opium by switching them over to cocaine.
Another interesting insight is that every traditional culture in the world has it's own method of getting fucked up, based on the available plantlife; in Europe this was alcohol, in the middle east it was marijuana, in South America it was cocoa leaves and in Asia it was opium. Guess which one is acceptable in western society and which ones are regarded as deviant and dangerous. Also consider the nature of the puritanical anti-drugs campaigns when these drugs were first introduced to America; the dirty Mexicans raping white women while high on marijuana and the shifty Chinese creating hives of sin in their opium dens. From this perspective, the motives behind drug prohibition are often quite racist.
But despite the vitriol directed towards the various figureheads of prohibition (Thatcher and Reagan get pretty bad thrashings, but not the worst) the book gives us little insight into why this culture of finger waving wowserism came about so suddenly. There have always been religious nutters and Jim Andertons around, but they never succeeded in having their way until the late 1800s. Understanding what truly drives these people would seem to me to be an important part of engaging with their ideas, but it is left unexamined here.
Nevertheless the points the book does make are good ones. Firstly, that the common media caricature of the drug user, lower class, living in a dirty hole in the wall, not caring about anything but his or her next fix, has never been accurate. The middle and upper classes have always enjoyed indulging and most (but of course not all) manage to do so without ruining their professional or domestic lives. Secondly, that any level headed look at drug use must admit that besides the obvious bad effects that it has, humanity has and always has had a natural inclination towards getting fucking out of it (the titular pursuit of oblivion) and most, if not all, attempts at prohibition do not even acknowledge this fact, betraying their lack of grounding in any kind of interest in practical realities. Lastly, history and economics both show that any attempt to prohibit an intoxicating substance desirable by a large number of people is fighting futilely against the laws of supply and demand. Any success in restricting the supply simply increases the profitability for the criminal organisations importing it, and a significant number of end users will pay any price to get it, perhaps by resorting to crime, but more probably just because those who can afford it will always put a premium on having fun.
But tell all that to the Jim Andertons of the world. They haven't listened for the past hundred years, while they've squandered billions on an unwinnable war against (some) drugs, and they're not likely to start now.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
There Was A Great Earthquake, And The Sun Became Black
Satyricon – Nemesis Divina
One last Satyricon album before I put them out of mind forever. Nemesis Divina is probably the most enjoyable out of the three albums of theirs I've been listening to. Faint praise but praise nonetheless. Nemesis Divina does not differ in style much at all from their earlier albums but it is a bit more professional in terms of both production and has some catchiness and life to it, capturing a sliver of Emperor-esque awesomeness. It also contains theit most popular song, 'Mother North', and my personal favourite Satyricon track 'Du Som Hater Gud', which gets the award because of it's brilliantly cheesy piano outro.
The album as a whole is still not terribly exciting however. Ideally you should listen to Emperor or even better Mayhem but if I were stuck on a desert island with only one black metal album and it was Nemesis Divina, I'd at least be glad it wasn't one of their other albums or god forbid, Cradle of Filth.
One last Satyricon album before I put them out of mind forever. Nemesis Divina is probably the most enjoyable out of the three albums of theirs I've been listening to. Faint praise but praise nonetheless. Nemesis Divina does not differ in style much at all from their earlier albums but it is a bit more professional in terms of both production and has some catchiness and life to it, capturing a sliver of Emperor-esque awesomeness. It also contains theit most popular song, 'Mother North', and my personal favourite Satyricon track 'Du Som Hater Gud', which gets the award because of it's brilliantly cheesy piano outro.
The album as a whole is still not terribly exciting however. Ideally you should listen to Emperor or even better Mayhem but if I were stuck on a desert island with only one black metal album and it was Nemesis Divina, I'd at least be glad it wasn't one of their other albums or god forbid, Cradle of Filth.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
They All Lack Taste Sometimes
Soundwave Festival – Sydney Park 25th February
I must admit I have been a bit disappointed by the increasing lameness of the Big Day Out over the last few years. While the two headliners this year were among my favourite bands, the whole festival experience didn't come close to living up to all the fun I had in those first few years of attendance (ah the memories... Korn, Marilyn Manson's naked arse, Courtney Love's naked breasts...) where the whole day was excitement from beginning to end. I assumed my greatly lessened enthusiasm was just because I'm getting older and crankier, but judging by how much Soundwave reminded me of the first few times I went to the Big Day Out, and by how young the kids there were, I must conclude that the Big Day Out is just getting crappier.
The Big Day Out in Auckland has always been a bit of an alternative affair, mostly populated by goths, metallers and general freaks, whereas the Sydney one was horrifyingly mainstream; twenty thousand bimbos in bikini tops and big sunglasses, and twenty thousand douchebags wrapped in Australian flags. Soundwave on the other hand was a giant sea of black t-shirts. I felt like I fit in a lot better.
Of course, after sweltering in the heat all summer Sydney decided to treat us all to a massive downpour (massive by New South Wales standards of course, in Christchurch it would've been considered 'a bit showery') and for the first time in almost nine months I actually felt cold. I was actually quite surprised that so many people braved the weather to attend. The last time it rained like this here (in June) the CBD practically emptied out. One of the weirdest moments of the day was hanging out in the bar area when the rain peaked at it's heaviest and everyone (including myself) ran and packed in under the limited sheltered area by the bar. For some reason everyone just started screaming their heads off for no reason. It was totally random but funny as hell.
Blindspott
Anyway. The music. Out of a half hearted sense of dutiful nationalism I went along to the first band on the secondary stage, Blindspott. The last couple of times I saw these guys I was not too impressed, but god bless them they did all right by our little island nation on this occasion. And it turns out that the Aussie meatheads who sit there cracking sheep jokes for the first half of the set are the first to rush into the moshpit when they crank out 'Nil By Mouth'. Fancy that.
Just like at the Big Day Out the drink queues were insanely long. I was quite keen to see Flyleaf, solely because I saw a music video of theirs once and their vocalist is a tiny little chick who does crazy death metal vocals, but I spent the whole forty minutes they were playing trying to get a drink, only just getting out in time to hear the last chord of their set. That fucked me off pretty bad, and I think the organisers should have planned better for the incredible amount of drinking that was inevitably going to happen. I shit you not there were actually guys crowd surfing over the queue into the bar (where they were immediately set upon by bouncers, but it was entertaining nonetheless). Funnily enough this doesn't happen back home. Is it because Kiwi's drink less or because concert organisers over there are more scared of what might happen if a whole bunch of munters run out of beer? Discuss.
MxPx: featuring the rain. (The rain sounded better)
The rest of the afternoon was completely forgettable. I made a point of seeing MxPx, on account of having heard their name before, and was fairly disgusted. I thought the Blink 182/Green Day pop punk fad was dead and had been buried (by its more worthless but more entertaining offspring emo) but apparently there are still some dumb kids out there keen on this shit. And the less said about the shitty indie rock acts that played the main stages for the majority of the day the better.
Parkway Drive
Hatebreed
Later in the evening I visited the little stage to see the hard shit. Parkway Drive were OK, I've never heard them before but I enjoyed their set. It was a good warm up for Hatebreed, who didn't play for nearly long enough but were just as awesome as the last time I saw them. Despite the downbeat lyrical content of their songs these guys just look like they're having shitloads of fun on stage. The moshpit wasn't as mental as the insanely huge death pit they started up at the Big Day Out in 2005, but it was still pretty fun. Violent, but with a good vibe.
Hatebreed again: you can't really tell from this photo but there's all sorts of crazy shit going on behind me.
Suicidal Tendencies
I missed Terror, on account of being in the drinks queue again, but returned in time to see Suicidal Tendencies, who were pretty fucking awesome. I hadn't really heard them before either but they were also a hardcore band but with a bit of a hip hop influence and plenty of flashy metal guitar wankery. I liked it. They were great performers with an impassioned and entertaining frontman and the crowd was very into it.
The Deftones. As you walk/ onstage.
I left Suicidal Tendencies set early to get a good spot for the festival's headliners, the Deftones. After much thoughtful deliberation on their performance I have upgraded them from a 'crap live band' to a 'not terribly good live band'. Sure there's no way that munting out and screaming along to 'Be Quiet and Drive' and 'Passenger' could not be fun, but they just don't seem to have a lot of energy or even much interest in performing, especially compared to some of the outstanding concerts I've had the good fortune to see already this year. Their setlist was a bit surprising too. Mostly Adrenaline and White Pony material with not a lot from the new album and nothing at all from the self-titled:
Chino Moreno: Still fat.
Now for my big bitch. The moshpit sucked. Maybe I've just been spoilt by gigs like Tool and Isis, where I was actually able to stand at the front and enjoy the show without having crowd surfers kicking me in the head every ten seconds, or those like Suffocation or Hatebreed, which manage to be very violent while still being fun for those of us who don't enjoy kicking people in the back, but it seemed to me that the mood in the moshpit was quite ugly. Afterwards someone told me that ten minutes into the set (before I had made my way up to the front) he'd seen some dude getting (deliberately) stomped on for a couple of minutes in the moshpit, and I could believe it. Anyway, I felt the aggression rubbing off on me and I was starting to get pissed off and not enjoying myself, so I moved back and managed to get a good photo! That's karma for you.
OMG it looks like an actual photo taken by an actual photographer with an actual camera
While the Deftones were not all I hoped they would be I saw more than a few good bands and more importantly I had a good time hanging out with randoms and not so randoms in a social setting that I felt far more at home in than at the Big Day Out (punk assed teenage kid wrapped in Aussie flag count: 1). Here's hoping there'll be a few more festivals like this here before the year is out.
I must admit I have been a bit disappointed by the increasing lameness of the Big Day Out over the last few years. While the two headliners this year were among my favourite bands, the whole festival experience didn't come close to living up to all the fun I had in those first few years of attendance (ah the memories... Korn, Marilyn Manson's naked arse, Courtney Love's naked breasts...) where the whole day was excitement from beginning to end. I assumed my greatly lessened enthusiasm was just because I'm getting older and crankier, but judging by how much Soundwave reminded me of the first few times I went to the Big Day Out, and by how young the kids there were, I must conclude that the Big Day Out is just getting crappier.
The Big Day Out in Auckland has always been a bit of an alternative affair, mostly populated by goths, metallers and general freaks, whereas the Sydney one was horrifyingly mainstream; twenty thousand bimbos in bikini tops and big sunglasses, and twenty thousand douchebags wrapped in Australian flags. Soundwave on the other hand was a giant sea of black t-shirts. I felt like I fit in a lot better.
Of course, after sweltering in the heat all summer Sydney decided to treat us all to a massive downpour (massive by New South Wales standards of course, in Christchurch it would've been considered 'a bit showery') and for the first time in almost nine months I actually felt cold. I was actually quite surprised that so many people braved the weather to attend. The last time it rained like this here (in June) the CBD practically emptied out. One of the weirdest moments of the day was hanging out in the bar area when the rain peaked at it's heaviest and everyone (including myself) ran and packed in under the limited sheltered area by the bar. For some reason everyone just started screaming their heads off for no reason. It was totally random but funny as hell.
BlindspottAnyway. The music. Out of a half hearted sense of dutiful nationalism I went along to the first band on the secondary stage, Blindspott. The last couple of times I saw these guys I was not too impressed, but god bless them they did all right by our little island nation on this occasion. And it turns out that the Aussie meatheads who sit there cracking sheep jokes for the first half of the set are the first to rush into the moshpit when they crank out 'Nil By Mouth'. Fancy that.
Just like at the Big Day Out the drink queues were insanely long. I was quite keen to see Flyleaf, solely because I saw a music video of theirs once and their vocalist is a tiny little chick who does crazy death metal vocals, but I spent the whole forty minutes they were playing trying to get a drink, only just getting out in time to hear the last chord of their set. That fucked me off pretty bad, and I think the organisers should have planned better for the incredible amount of drinking that was inevitably going to happen. I shit you not there were actually guys crowd surfing over the queue into the bar (where they were immediately set upon by bouncers, but it was entertaining nonetheless). Funnily enough this doesn't happen back home. Is it because Kiwi's drink less or because concert organisers over there are more scared of what might happen if a whole bunch of munters run out of beer? Discuss.
MxPx: featuring the rain. (The rain sounded better)The rest of the afternoon was completely forgettable. I made a point of seeing MxPx, on account of having heard their name before, and was fairly disgusted. I thought the Blink 182/Green Day pop punk fad was dead and had been buried (by its more worthless but more entertaining offspring emo) but apparently there are still some dumb kids out there keen on this shit. And the less said about the shitty indie rock acts that played the main stages for the majority of the day the better.
Parkway Drive
HatebreedLater in the evening I visited the little stage to see the hard shit. Parkway Drive were OK, I've never heard them before but I enjoyed their set. It was a good warm up for Hatebreed, who didn't play for nearly long enough but were just as awesome as the last time I saw them. Despite the downbeat lyrical content of their songs these guys just look like they're having shitloads of fun on stage. The moshpit wasn't as mental as the insanely huge death pit they started up at the Big Day Out in 2005, but it was still pretty fun. Violent, but with a good vibe.
Hatebreed again: you can't really tell from this photo but there's all sorts of crazy shit going on behind me.
Suicidal TendenciesI missed Terror, on account of being in the drinks queue again, but returned in time to see Suicidal Tendencies, who were pretty fucking awesome. I hadn't really heard them before either but they were also a hardcore band but with a bit of a hip hop influence and plenty of flashy metal guitar wankery. I liked it. They were great performers with an impassioned and entertaining frontman and the crowd was very into it.
The Deftones. As you walk/ onstage.I left Suicidal Tendencies set early to get a good spot for the festival's headliners, the Deftones. After much thoughtful deliberation on their performance I have upgraded them from a 'crap live band' to a 'not terribly good live band'. Sure there's no way that munting out and screaming along to 'Be Quiet and Drive' and 'Passenger' could not be fun, but they just don't seem to have a lot of energy or even much interest in performing, especially compared to some of the outstanding concerts I've had the good fortune to see already this year. Their setlist was a bit surprising too. Mostly Adrenaline and White Pony material with not a lot from the new album and nothing at all from the self-titled:
- Korea
- Knife Party
- Be Quiet and Drive
- My Last Summer
- Beware
- Engine Number 9
- Root
- Hole in the Earth
- Xerces
- Passenger
- Kimdracula
- Bored
- Back to School
- Change (in the House of Flies)
- 7 Words
Chino Moreno: Still fat.Now for my big bitch. The moshpit sucked. Maybe I've just been spoilt by gigs like Tool and Isis, where I was actually able to stand at the front and enjoy the show without having crowd surfers kicking me in the head every ten seconds, or those like Suffocation or Hatebreed, which manage to be very violent while still being fun for those of us who don't enjoy kicking people in the back, but it seemed to me that the mood in the moshpit was quite ugly. Afterwards someone told me that ten minutes into the set (before I had made my way up to the front) he'd seen some dude getting (deliberately) stomped on for a couple of minutes in the moshpit, and I could believe it. Anyway, I felt the aggression rubbing off on me and I was starting to get pissed off and not enjoying myself, so I moved back and managed to get a good photo! That's karma for you.
OMG it looks like an actual photo taken by an actual photographer with an actual cameraWhile the Deftones were not all I hoped they would be I saw more than a few good bands and more importantly I had a good time hanging out with randoms and not so randoms in a social setting that I felt far more at home in than at the Big Day Out (punk assed teenage kid wrapped in Aussie flag count: 1). Here's hoping there'll be a few more festivals like this here before the year is out.
The Monday Lessons
I'm starting remember why I used to drink rum. Something to do with me going nuts and being crazy...
I definitely remember why I don't drink bourbon. It makes me want to puke.
I'm tired of being shy. I want to be outgoing and confident. Without having to drink a dozen rum and cokes to achieve this effect.
I definitely remember why I don't drink bourbon. It makes me want to puke.
I'm tired of being shy. I want to be outgoing and confident. Without having to drink a dozen rum and cokes to achieve this effect.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Always Upon You, But Never Tasting
Isis – Clearing the Eye
The Isis love on the Wildebeest Asylum is not quite over just yet. As well as their new album and their recent concert they also have a new DVD out. Clearing the Eye contains a good two hours of live footage, plus their solitary music video.
The video (for 'In Fiction') is OK but doesn't do justice to what is a truly outstanding song. (Plus there are edits! Fucking edits I tell you! That song was meant to be nine minutes long and making it any shorter is an abomination unto the Lord!)
The live footage is more interesting, covering material from a range of albums up to and including Panopticon. About half of the tracks are older songs pulled from a variety of different gigs, but they also include a full concert (from the Sydney date on their last Australian tour, at the Annandale (a much smaller venue than the Metro where they played this year)) where they play Panopticon more or less from beginning to end, including my favourite 'In Fiction' and also a really great version of 'Altered Course'. The songs are included warts and all (with no post recording fixes) so you can feel sorry for the bass player when he is way out of tune for the first half of 'The Beginning and the End'.
The visual element of the live footage is more or less superfluous. Once you've seen Aaron Turner's guitar face up close a couple of times you don't need to see it again in the remaining twelve songs. As an auditory experience the DVD is highly recommended. You'll never get the transcendent experience of actually being at one of their concerts from a recording, but it's enough to evoke a nice memory of that feeling again.
The Isis love on the Wildebeest Asylum is not quite over just yet. As well as their new album and their recent concert they also have a new DVD out. Clearing the Eye contains a good two hours of live footage, plus their solitary music video.
The video (for 'In Fiction') is OK but doesn't do justice to what is a truly outstanding song. (Plus there are edits! Fucking edits I tell you! That song was meant to be nine minutes long and making it any shorter is an abomination unto the Lord!)
The live footage is more interesting, covering material from a range of albums up to and including Panopticon. About half of the tracks are older songs pulled from a variety of different gigs, but they also include a full concert (from the Sydney date on their last Australian tour, at the Annandale (a much smaller venue than the Metro where they played this year)) where they play Panopticon more or less from beginning to end, including my favourite 'In Fiction' and also a really great version of 'Altered Course'. The songs are included warts and all (with no post recording fixes) so you can feel sorry for the bass player when he is way out of tune for the first half of 'The Beginning and the End'.
The visual element of the live footage is more or less superfluous. Once you've seen Aaron Turner's guitar face up close a couple of times you don't need to see it again in the remaining twelve songs. As an auditory experience the DVD is highly recommended. You'll never get the transcendent experience of actually being at one of their concerts from a recording, but it's enough to evoke a nice memory of that feeling again.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
I Just Want To Go Blind
Converge – No Heroes
As previously reported, Converge are pretty fucking awesome. In anticipation of their concert next month I've bought their most recent album No Heroes. It's mostly similar in style to Jane Doe, fast, angry and brutal, with some of the most hair raisingly intense vocals I've ever heard (seriously, how can this guy still talk?!), but there is a little more variation in tone and mood here, even stretching to the point of including a ballad or two (with a different vocalist mind you).
Most of the songs are quick one or two minute blasts so intense and both rhythmically and tonally fucked up so that your brain barely has time to say 'What the fuck was that?' before it's on to the next one. The exception being the ten minute centrepiece of the album 'Grim Heart / Black Rose', which starts out as a sad, relatively gentle ballad and ends with an almighty build up to a good, hard, solid rock out, featuring some virtuoso drumming.
Unfortunately while No Heroes is much slicker in terms of production and a bit more sophisticated in composition it just doesn't quite match the intensity of Jane Doe. Still it's no disappointment and the new tracks will hopefully go down a treat live.
As previously reported, Converge are pretty fucking awesome. In anticipation of their concert next month I've bought their most recent album No Heroes. It's mostly similar in style to Jane Doe, fast, angry and brutal, with some of the most hair raisingly intense vocals I've ever heard (seriously, how can this guy still talk?!), but there is a little more variation in tone and mood here, even stretching to the point of including a ballad or two (with a different vocalist mind you).
Most of the songs are quick one or two minute blasts so intense and both rhythmically and tonally fucked up so that your brain barely has time to say 'What the fuck was that?' before it's on to the next one. The exception being the ten minute centrepiece of the album 'Grim Heart / Black Rose', which starts out as a sad, relatively gentle ballad and ends with an almighty build up to a good, hard, solid rock out, featuring some virtuoso drumming.
Unfortunately while No Heroes is much slicker in terms of production and a bit more sophisticated in composition it just doesn't quite match the intensity of Jane Doe. Still it's no disappointment and the new tracks will hopefully go down a treat live.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
I Bathe Myself In The Entrails Of You
One of the nice things about living in a big city like Sydney is that you get more opportunities to attend sophisticated art and cultural events. Sunday night was one such opportunity, as the international short film festival Tropfest was playing in the botanic gardens. As my loyal readers would expect nothing less of me, I passed on it in order to see these people:
Because there's not much that can beat an evening of crazy go nuts brutal death metal.
Suffocation - Live at The Gaelic Club, 18th February
The headliners were Suffocation (coincidentally reviewed on this very blog last week), but they had a full complement of three opening bands. The gig was at The Gaelic Club, a venue I hadn't visited before, although I'd been tempted to go and see both Cannibal Corpse and Deicide there. It's a pretty small place, probably only holding a few hundred, and is perfectly suited to metal concerts. You've got your dankness, your grime, and your angry no nonsense bouncers. The crowd was pretty much as you'd expect for this kind of thing, mainly male, and mainly fitting into the caricature of either the scrawny metal geek or the big fat sweaty metal munter, although there were a bunch of well dressed 'Sydney princess' type young women there for some reason. They stood out because they weren't wearing black.
As I arrived Vaticide were playing. They were competent death metallers but I don't really have much to say about them other than that I was impressed by their technical musicianship and little else.
Vaticide: Featuring the backs of a bunch of fat ugly dude's heads
Next up were Degeneracy, who were a bit more interesting. The music was pretty average but they made up for it with shitloads of energy. Their songs were short and punky, and very goofy. Sample stage banter: “This next song is called 'Covered in shit and semen. Don't laugh! This is a very personal song!” They had a really good drummer.
Degeneracy: featuring fat ugly shirtless guy in front of stage
The third band was Ebolie, who were a lot more interesting musically than their battlerish appearance may suggest. They had the proficiency of Vaticide and the energy of Degeneracy, and they were easily better than both. They also win the funny song title sweepstakes for the night for 'Why are so many fat chicks into metal?'
Ebolie: featuring dude jumping on stage and about to get beaten by angry security guys
Finally Suffocation arrived. Like their opening bands they didn't take themselves too seriously and just went all out to have a head banging, hard moshing good time. Frank Mullen is a really good front man, always paying attention to the audience and pumping up the front rows with his antics (during the numerous instrumental breaks he either runs up and down the front of the stage shaking people's hands or stands by the soloist and gesticulates wildly in time with them). The entire band are total wizards on their instruments, and it was awesome to see them performing close up. I managed to get a place right in front of Terrance, the lead guitarist (he even shook my hand!) and watching him solo was pretty fucking mind blowing. Unfortunately I couldn't focus my complete attention on the musicianship due to the (not unexpected) perils of the moshpit. It wasn't too bad (I've been in far worse) because there were only a couple of hundred people in attendance, but with music this brutal it was easy even for such a small crowd to make things pretty crazy.
Suffocation tune their guitars. This is actually the best picture I got of them.
The only disappointment was the absence of an encore. Since the band and the audience both seemed to be enjoying themselves this was a bit surprising but rumour has it that the band (hailing from grim, frost-bitten New York) were about to die of heat exhaustion in Sydney's humid February climate (exacerbated of course by 355 people going nuts in the tiny venue).
Suffocation: featuring Terrance's back and Frank's side.
Taken as 'serious' music these guys are nothing on Tool or Isis, but for a fun, unpretentious show with lots of brutal chugging and amazing musicianship, where you can just munt around like a gimp for a while these guys are fucking excellent, as long as your idea of a good time won't be spoiled by being jammed between smelly, sweaty metalheads thrashing their long hair around for an hour.
An attempt to capture one of Terrance's solos. You can't really tell from this picture but this guys fingers were actually that blurry in real life.
Because there's not much that can beat an evening of crazy go nuts brutal death metal.
Suffocation - Live at The Gaelic Club, 18th February
The headliners were Suffocation (coincidentally reviewed on this very blog last week), but they had a full complement of three opening bands. The gig was at The Gaelic Club, a venue I hadn't visited before, although I'd been tempted to go and see both Cannibal Corpse and Deicide there. It's a pretty small place, probably only holding a few hundred, and is perfectly suited to metal concerts. You've got your dankness, your grime, and your angry no nonsense bouncers. The crowd was pretty much as you'd expect for this kind of thing, mainly male, and mainly fitting into the caricature of either the scrawny metal geek or the big fat sweaty metal munter, although there were a bunch of well dressed 'Sydney princess' type young women there for some reason. They stood out because they weren't wearing black.
As I arrived Vaticide were playing. They were competent death metallers but I don't really have much to say about them other than that I was impressed by their technical musicianship and little else.
Vaticide: Featuring the backs of a bunch of fat ugly dude's heads
Degeneracy: featuring fat ugly shirtless guy in front of stageThe third band was Ebolie, who were a lot more interesting musically than their battlerish appearance may suggest. They had the proficiency of Vaticide and the energy of Degeneracy, and they were easily better than both. They also win the funny song title sweepstakes for the night for 'Why are so many fat chicks into metal?'
Ebolie: featuring dude jumping on stage and about to get beaten by angry security guysFinally Suffocation arrived. Like their opening bands they didn't take themselves too seriously and just went all out to have a head banging, hard moshing good time. Frank Mullen is a really good front man, always paying attention to the audience and pumping up the front rows with his antics (during the numerous instrumental breaks he either runs up and down the front of the stage shaking people's hands or stands by the soloist and gesticulates wildly in time with them). The entire band are total wizards on their instruments, and it was awesome to see them performing close up. I managed to get a place right in front of Terrance, the lead guitarist (he even shook my hand!) and watching him solo was pretty fucking mind blowing. Unfortunately I couldn't focus my complete attention on the musicianship due to the (not unexpected) perils of the moshpit. It wasn't too bad (I've been in far worse) because there were only a couple of hundred people in attendance, but with music this brutal it was easy even for such a small crowd to make things pretty crazy.
Suffocation tune their guitars. This is actually the best picture I got of them.The only disappointment was the absence of an encore. Since the band and the audience both seemed to be enjoying themselves this was a bit surprising but rumour has it that the band (hailing from grim, frost-bitten New York) were about to die of heat exhaustion in Sydney's humid February climate (exacerbated of course by 355 people going nuts in the tiny venue).
Suffocation: featuring Terrance's back and Frank's side.Taken as 'serious' music these guys are nothing on Tool or Isis, but for a fun, unpretentious show with lots of brutal chugging and amazing musicianship, where you can just munt around like a gimp for a while these guys are fucking excellent, as long as your idea of a good time won't be spoiled by being jammed between smelly, sweaty metalheads thrashing their long hair around for an hour.
An attempt to capture one of Terrance's solos. You can't really tell from this picture but this guys fingers were actually that blurry in real life.Monday, February 19, 2007
Flat Hunting
Chuck Norris doesn't go flat hunting, because the term 'hunting' implies the possibility of failure. Chuck Norris goes flat killing.Man is flat hunting a chore. Especially in central Sydney where it costs a bajillion dollars to live in a cardboard box on the side of the road. I thought I'd been quite clever by deciding to look at apartments in Kings Cross; it's a lot cheaper than elsewhere and it's a nice quick walk to work (plus close to lots of bars and clubs), but after spending a Saturday morning wandering around and looking at places there I decided that maybe there were just a few many junkies, hobos and general vagabonds in that area even for me.
However I also looked at a few places in neighbouring Elizabeth Bay and Potts Point. This is one of those situations where you're walking through one suburb (Kings Cross) where there are strip clubs and seedy bars everywhere and meth heads swearing at you from the gutter, and suddenly you cross some imaginary ley line and you're surrounded by trendy cafés, swanky apartment blocks and dolled up eastern suburbs princesses with big Paris Hilton sunglasses and little dogs. I hadn't visited those suburbs before and I was really impressed, on a sunny Saturday morning it's like being back in the Mediterranean, with all the little cafés overlooking beautiful harbour views and a pleasant, relaxed, social atmosphere. The only difference is that the fat obnoxious Australians ruining it all aren't tourists, they're the locals.
I did find one apartment I would consider renting there, it was a bit small but very nice, and boasted the most incredible view of the harbour, the CBD skyline, the harbour bridge and the opera house. I wish I'd thought to take a photo, it was just stunning. The only reason I said no to the place was because even though it was only eleven a.m. it was like a sauna in there, and the apartment was west facing! I still haven't acclimatised enough to the heat here to handle that sort of thing.
I've put a deposit down for a really nice place in Surry Hills, which seems to be in the sweet spot as far as central Sydney suburbs go in balancing niceness, affordability and junkie/hobo population density, but it remains to be seen whether I'll get it or not as the property market here is pretty harsh towards renters right now.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
WTF?!? FFS!?! Moment of the Day for Sunday 18th of February
Hearing the reggae version of Dark Side of the Moon in its entirety. Who could possibly have come up with this abomination?
Saturday, February 17, 2007
The Brain Eaters' Greatest Hits Part 2
Some time ago I posted the first article of this two part series, promising that it wouldn't take me a year and a half to finish it like the last series I wrote did. I have kept that promise, taking merely a fleeting nine months to get around to writing this second, concluding post. Refresh your memories by rereading the first post and then continue on to see what other sad victims of the brain eater continue to shuffle around issuing shitty new albums or novels from the empty shells of their former artistry.
4. Audioslave
Rage Against the Machine and Soundgarden were two of the best popular bands of the early 90s, and everyone was disappointed to see them break up. A few years ago when Chris Cornell (Soundgarden singer) joined with Rage (minus their vocalist Zach) to form Audioslave, it seemed like a brilliant proposition. Unfortunately their first album, while passable, was nowhere near as good as anything produced by the original bands. There was still hope that they could improve, but that was confounded when their second and third releases turned out to be truly appalling four-and-a-half-minute-pop-rock-song middle of the road boredomfests. The Brain Eater must have been truly sated after reducing guitarist Tom Morello from his former brilliance to a four chord strumming zombie, barely capable of stuttering out a half way decent solo.
3. Shihad
They were the biggest rock band in New Zealand for much of the 90s, and for once the popularity was deserved. The Fish Album, Killjoy and The General Electric are packed with classic songs, and I have many fond memories of seeing them perform live touring for The General Electric (and it's preceding EP Blue Light Disco). However the subsequent album saw them trying to remake themselves for an international (i.e. American) audience as Pacifier and releasing a horrifically bland 'nu-metal for pussies' album, a career move that could only have been made by a band left with barely enough neurons to feed themselves following a sudden and vicious attack by the brain eater. They tried to redeem themselves with their most recent album Love is the New Hate and the attempt was appreciated, but they just don't have the spark anymore.
2. Robin Hobb
Robin Hobb's Assassin series is one of the finest fantasy trilogies I've ever read. All three books are very good but the last one is truly fantastic, with one of the most emotionally moving endings I've ever read. She went on to write a sequel trilogy (only loosely connected to the first), The Liveship Traders, which was OK, but nowhere near the standards of the preceding books. Then, in one of the Brain Eater's most unholy crimes yet, she returned to the characters and setting of the first trilogy and RETROACTIVELY RUINED THEM FOREVER!!!! If you ever read and enjoyed Assassin's Quest then never ever read Fool's Fate. At the time I wondered what would possess someone to take an incredibly moving and sad story and render it all meaningless by reversing literally everything that happened and turning it into a lame happy ever after ending. I now know the terrifying truth. It was the Brain Eater!
1. Bob
Man, Bob used to be so awesome you know? But now that he's popular it's like he doesn't care about his original fans any more. But that's cool, I can still enjoy his older work without letting it be ruined by thinking about all the crap he's done lately.
4. Audioslave
Rage Against the Machine and Soundgarden were two of the best popular bands of the early 90s, and everyone was disappointed to see them break up. A few years ago when Chris Cornell (Soundgarden singer) joined with Rage (minus their vocalist Zach) to form Audioslave, it seemed like a brilliant proposition. Unfortunately their first album, while passable, was nowhere near as good as anything produced by the original bands. There was still hope that they could improve, but that was confounded when their second and third releases turned out to be truly appalling four-and-a-half-minute-pop-rock-song middle of the road boredomfests. The Brain Eater must have been truly sated after reducing guitarist Tom Morello from his former brilliance to a four chord strumming zombie, barely capable of stuttering out a half way decent solo.
3. Shihad
They were the biggest rock band in New Zealand for much of the 90s, and for once the popularity was deserved. The Fish Album, Killjoy and The General Electric are packed with classic songs, and I have many fond memories of seeing them perform live touring for The General Electric (and it's preceding EP Blue Light Disco). However the subsequent album saw them trying to remake themselves for an international (i.e. American) audience as Pacifier and releasing a horrifically bland 'nu-metal for pussies' album, a career move that could only have been made by a band left with barely enough neurons to feed themselves following a sudden and vicious attack by the brain eater. They tried to redeem themselves with their most recent album Love is the New Hate and the attempt was appreciated, but they just don't have the spark anymore.
2. Robin Hobb
Robin Hobb's Assassin series is one of the finest fantasy trilogies I've ever read. All three books are very good but the last one is truly fantastic, with one of the most emotionally moving endings I've ever read. She went on to write a sequel trilogy (only loosely connected to the first), The Liveship Traders, which was OK, but nowhere near the standards of the preceding books. Then, in one of the Brain Eater's most unholy crimes yet, she returned to the characters and setting of the first trilogy and RETROACTIVELY RUINED THEM FOREVER!!!! If you ever read and enjoyed Assassin's Quest then never ever read Fool's Fate. At the time I wondered what would possess someone to take an incredibly moving and sad story and render it all meaningless by reversing literally everything that happened and turning it into a lame happy ever after ending. I now know the terrifying truth. It was the Brain Eater!
1. Bob
Man, Bob used to be so awesome you know? But now that he's popular it's like he doesn't care about his original fans any more. But that's cool, I can still enjoy his older work without letting it be ruined by thinking about all the crap he's done lately.
Boring Friday Night Metal Link
A moderately interesting article on black metal at the Chicago Tribune. I hate flat hunting.
Friday, February 16, 2007
New Nine Inch Nails Song Leaked
See here. I like it.
What's cool is the manner in which it was 'leaked'. It was found on a USB drive left in a toilet after a recent NIN concert in Lisbon, complete with lyrics and artwork.
There's heaps of other cool stuff that's being clandestinely slipped onto the internet about the new album (or rather about its concept), if you're interested...
What's cool is the manner in which it was 'leaked'. It was found on a USB drive left in a toilet after a recent NIN concert in Lisbon, complete with lyrics and artwork.
There's heaps of other cool stuff that's being clandestinely slipped onto the internet about the new album (or rather about its concept), if you're interested...
Games I Haven't Played
There comes a time in every man's life when he must take a good hard look at the things listed in the 'Now Playing' sidebar on his blog and admit to himself that he's just not going to finish most of those games. Lets go through them one by one and discuss why they're being dismissed to the 'waste of money' pile.
Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time
I really enjoyed Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones and having heard that The Sands of Time was the best entry in the series I assumed I would enjoy it too. Sadly it is not the case. The gameplay mechanics are not as polished as they were in the more recent game, and the focus is more on fighting than on the cool acrobatic tricks and nifty leaping around that made The Two Thrones so much fun. I reached the first boss monster, got frustrated and never went back to it.
Call of Cthulhu: Dark Corners of the Earth
I heard a few good things about this one on the gaming blogs and it was cheap so I picked it up. There is quite a bit to recommend it: the gameplay is smooth and reasonably bug free, and the designers have done a superb job of evoking both the visceral and the existential dread of Lovecraft's writing. Sadly one cannot say the same for the game's writers, who have pretty much made the overall story a Disney ride through a bullet pointed list of Cthulhu mythos scenarios. Considering that they start out breaking the cardinal rule of these stories (“Don't show the audience the whistling octopus until the end”) it's remarkable that the designers managed to make the individual setpieces work so well. The sewers level (cardinal rule of game design: “Always have a level set in the sewers”) is one of the scariest gaming experiences I've had since Thief 3's orphanage. You know, maybe this one deserves a second chance...
Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Chaos Bleeds
This one on the other hand is just a stinker. You control a selection of characters from the TV show in what is basically a graphically updated version of Double Dragon (and not a very good one at that). The fact that it says 'Buffy' in the title got me most of the way through, but the sad facts are that the game doesn't actually do much with it's license (for some inexplicable reason most of the action takes place in an alternate reality, rather than the actual locations of the TV show), the story sucks and the gameplay is simply dead boring. I reached the last level but just got so bored that I can't be fucked finishing it.
Xenosaga Episode II
When I was a kid I used to love games with elaborate, overwrought storylines and big cinematic cutscenes. If I was still a kid I would probably love this game, as it's story is dramatic and epic, even by Japanese RPG standards, and it's probably about 90% cutscenes. Maybe it would have helped if I'd played the first game, but I never really got a handle on the combat system, so I stopped playing about halfway through.
Heroes of Might and Magic III
This on the other hand is a fantastic game. I probably sunk a good forty or fifty hours into it last year, finishing the main game and making solid progress through the expansions, but it got very hard, and after taking a two month break from it (after moving to Australia and not having a computer) I found that I'd lost my edge and couldn't get any further than where I'd saved my game before moving.
Arcanum
The only reason I stopped playing this one was because I lost the disc. I found it again (actually I found another copy, I thought it had been stolen in the great CD heist of aught-two, but it turns out it was packed away in a box at my Mum's house) over Christmas, so when I have time I intend to get back into it.
Final Fantasy X
You haven't defeated me yet Final Fantasy X, I will get back to you one day! Just you wait!
Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time
I really enjoyed Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones and having heard that The Sands of Time was the best entry in the series I assumed I would enjoy it too. Sadly it is not the case. The gameplay mechanics are not as polished as they were in the more recent game, and the focus is more on fighting than on the cool acrobatic tricks and nifty leaping around that made The Two Thrones so much fun. I reached the first boss monster, got frustrated and never went back to it.
Call of Cthulhu: Dark Corners of the Earth
I heard a few good things about this one on the gaming blogs and it was cheap so I picked it up. There is quite a bit to recommend it: the gameplay is smooth and reasonably bug free, and the designers have done a superb job of evoking both the visceral and the existential dread of Lovecraft's writing. Sadly one cannot say the same for the game's writers, who have pretty much made the overall story a Disney ride through a bullet pointed list of Cthulhu mythos scenarios. Considering that they start out breaking the cardinal rule of these stories (“Don't show the audience the whistling octopus until the end”) it's remarkable that the designers managed to make the individual setpieces work so well. The sewers level (cardinal rule of game design: “Always have a level set in the sewers”) is one of the scariest gaming experiences I've had since Thief 3's orphanage. You know, maybe this one deserves a second chance...
Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Chaos Bleeds
This one on the other hand is just a stinker. You control a selection of characters from the TV show in what is basically a graphically updated version of Double Dragon (and not a very good one at that). The fact that it says 'Buffy' in the title got me most of the way through, but the sad facts are that the game doesn't actually do much with it's license (for some inexplicable reason most of the action takes place in an alternate reality, rather than the actual locations of the TV show), the story sucks and the gameplay is simply dead boring. I reached the last level but just got so bored that I can't be fucked finishing it.
Xenosaga Episode II
When I was a kid I used to love games with elaborate, overwrought storylines and big cinematic cutscenes. If I was still a kid I would probably love this game, as it's story is dramatic and epic, even by Japanese RPG standards, and it's probably about 90% cutscenes. Maybe it would have helped if I'd played the first game, but I never really got a handle on the combat system, so I stopped playing about halfway through.
Heroes of Might and Magic III
This on the other hand is a fantastic game. I probably sunk a good forty or fifty hours into it last year, finishing the main game and making solid progress through the expansions, but it got very hard, and after taking a two month break from it (after moving to Australia and not having a computer) I found that I'd lost my edge and couldn't get any further than where I'd saved my game before moving.
Arcanum
The only reason I stopped playing this one was because I lost the disc. I found it again (actually I found another copy, I thought it had been stolen in the great CD heist of aught-two, but it turns out it was packed away in a box at my Mum's house) over Christmas, so when I have time I intend to get back into it.
Final Fantasy X
You haven't defeated me yet Final Fantasy X, I will get back to you one day! Just you wait!
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Inconceivable Power Unleashed
Suffocation – Suffocation
Finally I get round to writing a post about a band before I get to go and see them live! (It means I'm almost on top of my blogging backlog, it'll be the first time that's happened, ever.) Suffocation (Suffo to their friends) are playing here this Sunday, and it should be an experience. These guys are of a subgenre of death metal known as 'brutal death metal', because all those other bands hammering their drums and shredding their guitars are really only gruff or unmannerly death metal. I have no idea what kind of a crowd will show up, but I expect that it won't be pretty.
As far as I can tell in these guys' case the 'brutal' adjective describes the straightforward way these guys go about making a big noise. There's no crazy spastic stuff like Cryptopsy, and no carefully arranged melodies like Opeth, it's just one mean riff with jack hammer drumming, shredded guitars and guttural vocals going full tilt after another. It might sound a bit boring but once you get past the angry, confrontational presentation of their music this album is actually pretty catchy and fun. They don't take themselves too seriously either, well at least I hope that “You are so fucking beautiful. I bathe myself, in the entrails of you” is not meant seriously. You can tell from their pictures and videos that they have that ironic gleam in their eye (as most extreme metal bands do) that tells you that they're really just having fun, despite the morbid trappings of the genre.
These guys are all at the top of their game technically. The lead guitarist especially is inspiring. It's a great relief to hear someone who can shred amazing solos (in terms of speed and technique) but also knows how to keep them short and sweet and sounding cool in and of themselves while also enhancing the song that they're a part of. His style is quite distinctive, it's typical death metal squealing and fiddling but presented in a quirky and off-kilter way that makes it quite unique and gives the songs a nice counterpoint to the straight up thrashing that characterises most of them. Definitely a welcome improvement on those tragic wastes of talent in Dragonforce.
Anyone interested in heavy metal should definitely check these guys out. It may take a few listens to get into because they do make a good hard effort to put the 'brutal' in 'brutal death metal', but it's fucking fun stuff.
Finally I get round to writing a post about a band before I get to go and see them live! (It means I'm almost on top of my blogging backlog, it'll be the first time that's happened, ever.) Suffocation (Suffo to their friends) are playing here this Sunday, and it should be an experience. These guys are of a subgenre of death metal known as 'brutal death metal', because all those other bands hammering their drums and shredding their guitars are really only gruff or unmannerly death metal. I have no idea what kind of a crowd will show up, but I expect that it won't be pretty.
As far as I can tell in these guys' case the 'brutal' adjective describes the straightforward way these guys go about making a big noise. There's no crazy spastic stuff like Cryptopsy, and no carefully arranged melodies like Opeth, it's just one mean riff with jack hammer drumming, shredded guitars and guttural vocals going full tilt after another. It might sound a bit boring but once you get past the angry, confrontational presentation of their music this album is actually pretty catchy and fun. They don't take themselves too seriously either, well at least I hope that “You are so fucking beautiful. I bathe myself, in the entrails of you” is not meant seriously. You can tell from their pictures and videos that they have that ironic gleam in their eye (as most extreme metal bands do) that tells you that they're really just having fun, despite the morbid trappings of the genre.
These guys are all at the top of their game technically. The lead guitarist especially is inspiring. It's a great relief to hear someone who can shred amazing solos (in terms of speed and technique) but also knows how to keep them short and sweet and sounding cool in and of themselves while also enhancing the song that they're a part of. His style is quite distinctive, it's typical death metal squealing and fiddling but presented in a quirky and off-kilter way that makes it quite unique and gives the songs a nice counterpoint to the straight up thrashing that characterises most of them. Definitely a welcome improvement on those tragic wastes of talent in Dragonforce.
Anyone interested in heavy metal should definitely check these guys out. It may take a few listens to get into because they do make a good hard effort to put the 'brutal' in 'brutal death metal', but it's fucking fun stuff.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Argh! My Ears!
For centuries philosophers have pondered the age old question: are Korn a good band with a few crappy albums, or a shit band who somehow manage to crank out a decent tune occasionally. With the release of their new unplugged album, the band themselves have sent a clear message that it is the latter. Watch the trailer, if you dare:
Poor old JD seems to have no idea as to how to sing his songs rather than scream them, so while his compatriots sensitively plunk away on their acoustic guitars he yells out the words in much the same way as as when he's backed by a big noisy nu-metal band. However things don't get really bad until they pull out the guest stars: fellow has-been Robert Smith and Amy "It's just as well I look good" Lee. Listening to Lee and Davis try and out emote one another with no regard for cohesion or even being in tune is more than a little dismaying. Way to make me that much more embarrassed to say I listen to either of your bands guys.
Poor old JD seems to have no idea as to how to sing his songs rather than scream them, so while his compatriots sensitively plunk away on their acoustic guitars he yells out the words in much the same way as as when he's backed by a big noisy nu-metal band. However things don't get really bad until they pull out the guest stars: fellow has-been Robert Smith and Amy "It's just as well I look good" Lee. Listening to Lee and Davis try and out emote one another with no regard for cohesion or even being in tune is more than a little dismaying. Way to make me that much more embarrassed to say I listen to either of your bands guys.
Monday, February 12, 2007
My Food Is Problematic
Firefly
I sure took my time getting to it but I have finally been a good obsessive fanboy and bought Firefly on DVD. In brief Firefly is a sci-fi TV show by Joss Whedon, the creator of Buffy (and Angel). The show is broadly in the mould of similar shows like Star Trek; every week the characters fly their space ship somewhere new and find something interesting yet dangerous. The attributes that set this show apart are the setting (in which the outer reaches of human colonised space are very much like the American wild west of old, right down to the deserts, outlaws and train robberies), and of course Joss' distinctive writing style.
This was the third TV show that Joss helmed and he does a confident and assured job of introducing the characters, setting the scene for future story arcs and hinting at the backstories of the people and places involved. Sadly this is pretty much all he got to do as after only fourteen episodes the show was shitcanned by those notorious idiots at Fox. Fortunately the movie Serenity was made to finish up the story and resolve the most immediate loose ends of the plot, but it's a pity that the series itself never got to do much more than show it's potential.
It's just as well that the episodes that did get made are nothing short of great. The setting is very well thought out, and while unfortunately Joss never got to show and explain a lot of what was going on what we do see is pretty cool. The series' strong points are really exactly the things that were good about Buffy and Angel, done by Joss with the years of experience working on those programmes behind him and none of the overwrought emotional baggage that the other shows had accumulated. The humour is as brilliant as you'd expect, but unlike Buffy Firefly works well as a drama too. A lot of this can be attributed to vastly superior acting, which gives it a genuine emotional side that Buffy never really achieved, but I think savvier, less cheesy writing played a part too.
The characters are also one of the reasons this show is so great. Our major protagonist Mel (the spaceship's captain) is a wisecracking but haunted hero in the mould of Angel, but he's far more interesting than Angel ever was because (a) he's played by an actor who can act rings around David Boreanz, and (b) because his backstory is far more down to earth and relatable than 'I'm a 400 year old vampire who's killed thousands of people for pleasure'. At the other end of the spectrum we have River, a damaged young girl who provides loads of humour (in a similar vein to Delirium in Sandman), but who also evokes genuine sadness and pity with her pathetic brokenness. It's a shame we never got to see most of these characters make their way to their originally intended fates, but at least in the movie we get to see River's somewhat predictable, but still way cool, transformation into, well, Buffy...
I sure took my time getting to it but I have finally been a good obsessive fanboy and bought Firefly on DVD. In brief Firefly is a sci-fi TV show by Joss Whedon, the creator of Buffy (and Angel). The show is broadly in the mould of similar shows like Star Trek; every week the characters fly their space ship somewhere new and find something interesting yet dangerous. The attributes that set this show apart are the setting (in which the outer reaches of human colonised space are very much like the American wild west of old, right down to the deserts, outlaws and train robberies), and of course Joss' distinctive writing style.
This was the third TV show that Joss helmed and he does a confident and assured job of introducing the characters, setting the scene for future story arcs and hinting at the backstories of the people and places involved. Sadly this is pretty much all he got to do as after only fourteen episodes the show was shitcanned by those notorious idiots at Fox. Fortunately the movie Serenity was made to finish up the story and resolve the most immediate loose ends of the plot, but it's a pity that the series itself never got to do much more than show it's potential.
It's just as well that the episodes that did get made are nothing short of great. The setting is very well thought out, and while unfortunately Joss never got to show and explain a lot of what was going on what we do see is pretty cool. The series' strong points are really exactly the things that were good about Buffy and Angel, done by Joss with the years of experience working on those programmes behind him and none of the overwrought emotional baggage that the other shows had accumulated. The humour is as brilliant as you'd expect, but unlike Buffy Firefly works well as a drama too. A lot of this can be attributed to vastly superior acting, which gives it a genuine emotional side that Buffy never really achieved, but I think savvier, less cheesy writing played a part too.
The characters are also one of the reasons this show is so great. Our major protagonist Mel (the spaceship's captain) is a wisecracking but haunted hero in the mould of Angel, but he's far more interesting than Angel ever was because (a) he's played by an actor who can act rings around David Boreanz, and (b) because his backstory is far more down to earth and relatable than 'I'm a 400 year old vampire who's killed thousands of people for pleasure'. At the other end of the spectrum we have River, a damaged young girl who provides loads of humour (in a similar vein to Delirium in Sandman), but who also evokes genuine sadness and pity with her pathetic brokenness. It's a shame we never got to see most of these characters make their way to their originally intended fates, but at least in the movie we get to see River's somewhat predictable, but still way cool, transformation into, well, Buffy...
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