WARNING: The following year end rant contains numerous piss poor attempts at humor and a healthy dose of cynicism. Reader discretion and a grain of salt are advised. THKD cannot be held responsible for anyone suffering from a severe case of butt-hurt as a result of exposure to this rant. Thank you for your support.
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Category Archives: hard rock
Alice Cooper – Welcome 2 My Nightmare (Universal, 2011)
“The first one is the best.” This is widely regarded as a universal truth when it comes to films, books and albums that are part of a series. Certainly there are exceptions to the rule; I’ve always preferred The Empire Strikes Back to Star Wars and Aliens to Alien, although I’m sure that many will disagree. But by and large, the first piece of work in a series is superior to its sequels, as it is typically the freshest and most original installment, breaking new ground and setting the tone for everything that follows. It also sets the bar, often setting it too high; the more highly regarded the original becomes, the more difficult it is for sequels to do anything but pale in comparison. Continue reading
Megadeth – Th1rt3en (Roadrunner, 2011)
One the most glaring problems with metal’s nostalgia fetish (which I discussed at length here) is that bands’ latest releases are constantly being judged in terms of their legacies/past glories, rather than the actual content of the new offering being evaluated. This is especially true of the genre’s titans, most of whom were blessed/cursed with releasing perfect or damn near perfect albums early on in their careers. Such is the case with Megadeth, who are shouldered with the considerable burden of having released not one but two genre-defining thrash albums in the form of Peace Sells… But Who’s Buying? and Rust in Peace.
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Spermless Like a Girl: On Lou Reed & Metallica’s Lulu and my fascination with suckiness
I have no interest in reviewing Lou Reed and Metallica’s Lulu. As far as I’m concerned, the definitive takes on it have already been written by Chuck Klosterman and Alee Karim, so there’s no need for me to try and analyze it further or attempt to offer any clever insight. However, I do have a few things I’d like to get off my chest now that this turd record has been officially committed to plastic and unleashed upon the masses.
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Opeth – Heritage (Roadrunner, 2011)
I’ve never been able to understand why musical evolution is largely frowned upon in extreme metal circles. It’s as if something went horribly awry back when rock music begat heavy metal and then heavy metal begat death metal, black metal, thrash, etc. That essential aspect of rock ‘n’ roll’s spirit which calls for constant change was almost completely stamped out in favor of a stunted “different is bad” philosophy that continues to permeate the scene today. Granted, “different” doesn’t always equal “good” either, but in order for any artistic or cultural movement to survive it must continually progress through trial and error, or risk degenerating into irrelevance and ultimately dying out. Yet somehow, metal’s more extreme genres have managed to remain in stasis for nearly three decades. Of course there are many exceptions, but for every one innovator there are literally hundreds of bands that have progressed their sound little (if at all) over the course of numerous albums, lineup changes, etc. Pillars of the various extreme metal subgenres, such as Transilvanian Hunger, Heartwork, Left Hand Path, Rust in Peace, etc are all around the two decade old mark, and yet bands are still contently copying them, and acting like they’ve achieved something of note on their own in doing so. When metal went extreme, it forgot that the bands from which it spawned, the Black Sabbaths and Led Zeppelins and Deep Purples of the world, never released two albums alike or even two songs alike. Production values may improve, bands may become more technically proficient (and in some cases even these two will cause severe backlash), but stepping outside the imaginary, self-imposed boundaries of a chosen metal subgenre is largely verboten.
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THKD’s Top 100 Metal Albums #2: Type O Negative – October Rust (Roadrunner, 1996)
Autumn in the Midwest is typically dark and chilly, a time of introspection. The sweltering heat and humidity of Summer dissipates, September’s cool, wet mornings and brown leaf vertigo eventually ushering in October, and with it Halloween, all cardboard skeletons and freshly carved jack-o-lanterns. Over the years, Type O Negative’s October Rust has more often than not served as my soundtrack to this drearily beautiful, eerily haunting season, and what a soundtrack it is.
I seem to remember reading interviews with dearly departed Type O frontman Peter Steele in which he proclaimed October Rust as his masterpiece, and it’s damn hard to argue with him. This is a truly excellent album, conceived by a musician who wrote as if he held The Beatles and Black Sabbath (and possibly Bauhaus) in equal regard. In actuality, the lushly layered pop sensibilities of October Rust recall the work of Beach Boys mastermind Brian Wilson moreso than The Beatles. If Wilson had been obsessed with death, lost love, substance abuse and folklore, this might have been the album he made instead of Pet Sounds. Indeed, there is an atmosphere of dark psychedelia lurking below October Rust‘s surface, adding yet another shade of grey haze to its funereal gloom.
From a song standpoint, the album’s highlights are many. Opening epic dirge “Love You to Death” and electro/pop/goth/metal lead-off single “My Girlfriend’s Girlfriend” are probably the two most well known tracks here, and while they’re certainly worthy of their infamy, October Rust is a veritable treasure trove of deep cuts. “Green Man” is an otherworldly ode to nature, touching upon pagan and Wiccan themes. ”Red Water (Christmas Mourning)” is a drunken carol of lost loved ones that even manages to quote “Carol of the Bells”. ”Wolf Moon” is my favorite track on October Rust, the very definition of a perfect song; it’s heavy, catchy, melodic and totally original in both concept and execution. I’m pretty sure it’s about a werewolf (or perhaps a man who thinks he’s a werewolf) performing cunnilingus on a menstruating woman (“Don’t spill a drop, dear / let me kiss the curse away / yourself in my mouth / will you leave me with your taste?”); it serves as the culmination of the morose, surreal sexuality that permeates the album. On an earlier track, the lusty “Be My Druidess”, Steele declares “I’ll do anything / to make you come” and I’ve often wondered if the two songs are related, with the “anything” in question being the bloody, lupine muff diving session detailed on “Wolf Moon”. Then again, maybe I’m just a weird pervert.
The component parts of the songs on October Rust are just as interesting as the songs themselves. The down-tuned, electric ultra-fuzz of Kenny Hickey’s guitar tone is total Tony Iommi worship, but the myriad influences at work within October Rust‘s aural confines keep it from being a mere Sabbath rip-off; it’s more like Hickey studied Iommi closely and then applied what he learned in support of Steele’s eclectic writing style, creating something totally unique in the process. Steele’s affinity for crafting great songs peaked with October Rust, and his vampiric baritone vocals are also at the height of their powers throughout the recording, securing the late frontman an eternal place among metal’s greatest and most recognizable singers and songwriters. Josh Silver’s nuanced keyboards and production work completes the album’s rich sonic tapestry, which seamlessly encompasses doom metal, gothic and psychedelic rock. If you’re wondering why I didn’t mention the drums, well… according to an interview Silver gave in 2007, the drums on October Rust are canned.
October Rust is many things. It’s Summer dying fast. It’s November coming fire. It’s the Green Man, the Wolfman and Bacchus. It’s love, death and depression. It’s booze and drugs and cigarettes and fucking. In case it hasn’t already been made abundantly clear, I’ll just come right out and say it: October Rust is a perfect metal album.
THKD’s Top 100 Metal Albums
1. Celestial Season – Solar Lovers
2. Type O Negative – October Rust
Anthrax – Worship Music (Megaforce, 2011)
I’m a bit biased when it comes to Anthrax. I was thirteen years old when the John Bush-fronted Sound of White Noise came out, and to this day it remains one of my all time favorite metal albums. While that recording marked a darker, more serious turn for the New York-based quintet, I still began to think of them as the “fun” thrash band as I explored their back catalogue. Here was a band that penned odes to Judge Dredd (“I Am the Law”) and Randall Flagg (“Among the Living”), covered new waver Joe Jackson (“Got the Time”), duetted with Chuck D (“Bring the Noise”) and even penned their own humorous take on rap metal (“I’m the Man”). Can you imagine those stuffed shirts in Metallica, Megadeth and Slayer doing anything like that? More than the other members of The Big Four, Anthrax struck me as the band that wasn’t afraid to follow their own muse and give the heavy metal rule book the finger. There was (and still is) something genuinely endearing about their approach.
But it wasn’t easy to keep up with Anthrax after Sound of White Noise. Stomp 442 and Volume 8 – The Threat is Real came and went, causing nary a blip on my metal radar, and I didn’t catch back up with the band until 2003′s We’ve Come for You All, a respectable album that seemed to signal a return to prominence. What followed instead was an album of rushed sounding re-recordings (The Greater of Two Evils) and a slew of live and compilation releases, not exactly the best way to capitalize on a five year layoff between albums. Then there was the infamous singer fiasco involving Bush, Joey Belladonna, Dan Nelson even Slipknot frontman Corey Taylor… it’s a wonder Neil Turbin didn’t get thrown in the mix at some point. This, combined with a dearth of new material put Anthrax in danger of turning into a joke.
Fast forward to 2011 and Anthrax is anything but a punch-line. Fully reunited with definitive vocalist Belladonna and riding a wave of renewed interest thanks to a slew of Big Four shows at various enormo-domes around the world, the band has unleashed Worship Music, their strongest album since Sound of White Noise and a damn fine slab of molten metal that recalls the strongest aspects of each era of the band while at the same time ushering the next phase of Anthrax’s musical evolution.
Nevermind the cello intro, because “Earth on Hell” is Worship Music‘s real opening track, a hammering declaration of badass-ness if ever there was one in the mold of classic Anthrax. The band grabs you by the throat from the get-go and doesn’t let up for the song’s ferocious three minute and ten second duration. Up next is “The Devil You Know”, another out-and-out banger that keeps the momentum going and is one of the catchiest tunes the band has ever written. I was skeptical of “Fight ‘Em ‘Til You Can’t” when I first heard it, but I must say that the the band’s ode to the zombie apocalypse works great in the context of the album and sounds a hell of a lot better on CD than on the crappy YouTube clip that was making the rounds earlier this year. After this trifecta of ripping tunes, Worship Music delves into groove-laden, mid-paced territory that recalls the John Bush era. Many of these tracks, such as the epic “Judas Priest” the catchy/moody “Crawl” and the thrashy “The Giant” work extremely well, while “In The End” and “The Constant” come off as enjoyable but ultimately skippable filler. The good on Worship Music far outweighs the bad and the album as a whole sounds surprisingly fresh in spite of its long gestation period.
As to be expected the musicianship throughout the album is top notch. Charlie Benante has always been one of my favorite drummers, and he certainly doesn’t disappoint here, anchoring Anthrax’s rhythm section with the same pounding authority he has brought to the band since ’83. Scott Ian’s ultra-crunchy rhythm guitar is still the defining characteristic at the band’s core and if anything it sounds that much more crushing on Worship Music thanks to co-guitarist Rob Caggiano’s thoroughly modern but not overly slick production job. Of course, the wild card in the Anthrax equation is Joey Belladonna, who hadn’t recorded with the band since 1990 prior to Worship Music. Belladonna’s vocals sound fantastic here and although he doesn’t hit the piercing highs of the band’s back catalogue, it’s obvious that he hasn’t lost a bit of his range. In fact, I’d argue that his voice is more full and commanding now than it was a decade ago.
And so there you have it. Anthrax has returned to the fold with an album they can be proud of, an album that largely shits all over anything the other members of The Big Four have released in the past several years, and most importantly an album that long suffering fans such as myself can revel in. By making the album they wanted to make and demonstrating full commitment to moving their music forward instead of pandering to Big Four/retro thrash nostalgia, they’ve proven that they’re still the band I loved as a teenager, marching to beat of their own slightly warped drummer. With Worship Music, Anthrax are back, bad and metal thrashing mad.
Today is the Day – Pain is a Warning (Black Market Activities, 2011)
The American Dream is in the shitter. If you don’t think so, you’re either rich or comatose. Most of us work at jobs we can’t stand for low pay, have health insurance policies that don’t cover anything, are buried under a mountain of debt and lead largely unfulfilling lives that are subject to the whims of a government run by a bunch of wealthy, over-privileged scumbags that couldn’t even be bothered to piss on us if we were on fire. In many other countries, these same conditions would spark a full-scale revolt, but Americans are far too complacent, too content to keep eating shit until they die from it.
But for all of us that are content to ride atop the avalanche of feces that was once the American Dream all the way to the bitter end, there are a few that are mad as hell and aren’t going to take it anymore. Steve Austin, mastermind behind Nashville-based power trio Today is the Day is one of them. But what does a musician with a large collection of high-powered firearms and a penchant for creating some of the most intense and abrasive metal/rock known to man do when they’ve had enough? Instead of going postal, Austin has channelled his rage against the dying of the light into a hellishly harsh rock ‘n’ roll record called Pain is a Warning.
Yes, you’re reading that last sentence correctly. Pain is a Warning is first and foremost a rock ‘n’ roll record. In fact, it’s probably the most rocking album Today is the Day has ever recorded. It rocks hard and heavy. It rocks like a goddamn motherfucker. It also sounds like it wants to rip your head off and shit all over the bloody stump, and that might be what really separates Today is the Day from 99.999% of the bands currently professing to play rock music. This isn’t limp-dick radio rock about doing coke and banging sluts. This is real anger, real hatred, real emotions harnessed into pure negative energy and unleashed through guitar, bass, drums and vocals.
Music this brutalizing needs the right production to help it along in getting the point across. For Pain is a Warning, Austin wisely chose to enlist Converge’s Kurt Ballou to sit behind the boards. The result is Today is the Day on steroids. Never has the band sounded so crushing, so ready to come through the speakers and grab you by the throat. Bringing in Ballou has also allowed Austin (who usually also produces) to turn his attention completely towards crafting the music itself, resulting in the most consistent, focused and visceral Today is the Day album in years. While there are a few subdued moments, such as the psychedelic “Remember to Forget” and the almost-country “This is You”, Pain is a Warning is mostly an ultra-noisy hard rock inferno with nods to metal, punk and hardcore. Tracks such as “Death Curse” “Wheelin’” and “Samurai” are violent and pummeling, but also rife with hooks and barbs that will lodge themselves in your memory, forcing you to press the play button again immediately after the album has ended.
Pain is a Warning is every bit as gnarly lyrically as it is musically. Austin sounds so intense delivering lines like “I’m so broke / I can’t feed you / It’s cold / I can’t heat you” and “iPhone iPod iPad PS3 / My life my heart bleeding endlessly” it’s almost as if he has been revitalized by the crumbling of the American Dream. Of course, one could argue that a brand new band lineup (featuring Curran Reynolds and Ryan Jones of Wetnurse on drums and bass, respectively) and a new record label might have something to do with it, but the truth is that Austin has always been this way, he simply needed to have the other pieces in place for Today is the Day to be fully realized in such an effective manner.
Hard times often breed great music. I can’t imagine them getting much harder than natural disasters, a corrupt government, a tanked economy, rampant unemployment, holy terrorism and not even being able to get on plane to escape from it all without potentially having to go through a full body cavity search. With Pain is Warning, Today is the Day have delivered one of the strongest albums of their career, while the doomsday clock ticks ever closer to midnight for the good ol’ US of A. Steve Austin and Co.’s brand of homicidal smash-mouth-super-rock might be too caustic to inspire revolution in the God, guns and government-fearing masses, but it will surely add some fuel to the fire for the chosen few.
http://www.blackmarketactivities.com/label/bands/todayistheday/
Blitzkrieg #5: There’s no such thing as Guilty Pleasures…
I recently had a brief exchange w/ Revolver Magazine editor Brandon Geist via twitter in which I chided him for being excited at the prospect of a new Cobalt record after he had publicly praised the new Staind album approximately one month ago (give or take). Obviously I don’t know Mr. Geist personally, but given the nature of 99% of the bands that are covered by his magazine, I just couldn’t resist flipping the guy some shit over this, as it’s in my nature to give folks a hard time every so often (keep in mind, there’s a fine line between a little good-natured ball breaking between dudes and being a fucking obnoxious troll, I was going for the former). I was surprised when he actually responded to my teasing, and our conversation quickly turned into a brief discussion of the merits of certain nu metal albums. I said I should write a piece on nu metal for THKD and bum out my readers. I was only half serious about that last bit, but the exchange did get me thinking about the ridiculous concept of “guilty pleasures”.
You see, I’ve always hated the term “guilty pleasure”. Why should someone be made to feel guilty for liking something? Because other people don’t like it, or don’t have the balls to admit to liking it in public? Well, fuck other people. I like what I like and I make no apologies for any of it. Wouldn’t all of our lives be better if we could be free to enjoy things w/o worrying about whether or not others are going to piss on our parade?
If you looked at my CD rack right now, you’d find Darkthrone’s entire discography. You’d find everything Glenn Danzig has ever put to tape. You’d find albums by Celtic Frost, Voivod and Napalm Death. You’d also find Static-X’s Wisconsin Death Trip and (hed)PE’s Broke. If these aren’t instant underground metal cred-killers, then I don’t know what is. Yes, I like those Static-X and (hed)PE albums, and I’m not ashamed. I don’t hide them under the bed or lock them away somewhere where they won’t contaminate my “real metal” albums. Something about Static-X’s ultra-crunchy-club-banger-disco nu metal and (hed)PE’s dunder-headed-yet-catchier-than-herpes rap-metal swagger rubs me the right way (on those specific albums, at least) and makes me want to shake my ass (but, watch myself) and I don’t give a flying fuck who knows it. You got a problem with that?!
But in all seriousness, what are people so afraid of? Are you really that concerned about how other people are going to judge you based on your tastes? No one should be deciding what is “good” or dictating your tastes but you. I admit there might have been a time when I cared what other people thought, but at thirty-one years, “I’m gettin’ too old for this shit” to quote Roger Murtaugh. If people are going to pass judgement on you based on what music you listen to, what movies you like, what books you read, etc, chances are they’re petty, pretentious, not to mention all-around shitty human beings who aren’t worthy of your time to begin with. Why waste your time hanging around a bunch of pricks that are going to call you a “pussy” for blasting The Very Best of Prince? Crank up “Little Red Corvette” and tell ‘em to get bent.
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Here’s the conversation between Geist and myself in full, in case you wanted to read it.
Ace Frehley ist Krieg.
Fuck Paul and Gene. Ace Frehley should’ve been writing entire KISS albums. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a KISS fan, but part of being a KISS fan is admitting that there are some horrifically shitty songs in their catalogue and that Paul and Gene are responsible for those shitty songs. This wouldn’t have happened if Frehley had been in charge. Don’t believe me? Just take a listen to his 1978 solo album. That year all four members of KISS released solo albums, of which Ace’s was the best selling and had the highest charting single. Granted, that single was a cover of Hello’s “New York Groove”, but make no mistake, the Frehley originals gracing the album are no slouches either. Just listen to “Snowblind” “Ozone” and “Rip it Out” and try to convince me that Frehley wasn’t the most gifted songwriter in KISS.
The few KISS songs that are credited to Ace, such as “Parasite” “Cold Gin” and “Shock Me” are among the best in the band’s catalogue, but it is on the solo album that Frehley steps out from behind the shadows of the Simmons/Stanley musical dictatorship and really shines as a player and songwriter. The main riff from the aforementioned “Snowblind” (which could have been a Black Sabbath song and ironically shares a title with a song from that band’s fourth album) alone is worth the price of admission, but the album as a whole is about a hundred times more enjoyable front-to-back than just about any of the early classic KISS albums, giving even their rough ‘n’ raw debut a run for its money.
It isn’t just the songs or the makeup or smoking guitar solos that make Ace Frehley great or that made millions of young men and boys paint their faces and pick up guitars both real and imaginary. Ace embodies an idea, the idea that a regular schmuck can can become an icon, a superhero. According to Wikipedia, some of the jobs held by Frehley prior to joining KISS included furniture deliverer, mail carrier and cab driver. From cab driver to motherfucking ROCK GOD. It’s the kind of story we all dreamed of as kids. It will never happen to most of us, but at least there was a time when mere mortals could live vicariously through men like Ace.
