I got the ringworm

Ain't that some shit? Guess that's to be expected, though, considering where I work and what I do. At any rate, I've finally found some time and motivation to attempt keeping up on the blog once again. Yay, cyberworld. I'll get more into my new life here...I don't know. Soon, hopefully.

Anyway, last year was kinda screwy for me in that I didn't know I'd be changing jobs, moving a couple states west, making a whole lot less money, etc. So while I'm usually pretty late in posting my favorite music released the previous year, I'd like to think I have a few decent excuses for how stupidly late this one is. And I know no one cares what I think in this regard. It's just that for some reason feel incomplete if I don't publish my music list every year somehow somewhere.

So here's what I bought last year - and this year, in an effort to catch up - ranked by how I humbly rate them. (And I'd better get on the stick for '09. There already albums released - or soon to be released - by some of my absolute favorites...Sepultura, Meat Puppets, Autolux, Dalek, Goblin Cock, Marmaduke Duke, Kylesa, 50 Foot Wave, St. Vincent, Steve Earle, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, These Arms Are Snakes, The Paper Chase, and one of my favorite Dallasites who I'm just tickled is finally releasing a full-length of her own, Laura Harrell. And I owe the gubment a shitload of money thanks to my move out here last year, so it won't be easy...)

Anyway, here they am...

2008 albums:
Aimee Mann, @#%&! Smilers
Torche, Meanderthal
The Knux, Remind Me in 3 Days...
High On Fire, Death is This Communion**
Blood on the Wall, Liferz
The Sword, Gods of the Earth
Cafe Tacuba, Sino**
Fucked Up, The Chemistry of Common Life
Santogold (self-titled)
Prong, Power of the Damager**
I Love Math, Getting to the Point is Beside it
Cavalera Conspiracy, Inflikted
Public Enemy, How You Sell Soul to a Soulless People Who Sold Their Soul???**
Metallica, Death Magnetic
Radiohead, In Rainbows
The Mars Volta, The Bedlam in Goliath
Motorhead, Motorizer
Tomahawk, Anonymous**
Bob Mould, District Line
Fishbone, Still Stuck in Your Throat**
The Breeders, Mountain Battles
Scars On Broadway (self-titled)
Doug Burr, The Shawl
Smile Smile, Blue Roses

**Actually released in 2007, making this list all the more lame.

Fishbone 101

A while back on Jeff Liles' History of Dallas Music MySpace page, I took it upon myself to leave a brief dissertation on the true greatness of - and sad lack of appreciation for - Fishbone in a comment on one of the ticket stub pictures I gave him.

For those who don't know much about them, there's not much more I can say here that I didn't say in the aforementioned comment...although, I would recommend a quick read through the band's Wikipedia page. So instead, I'll just share this clip. Crank it up if you can. And pay attention to just how tight those guys really are in the midst of the absolute onstage chaos they created. Then imagine experiencing that intensity for, like, two solid hours. It left you exhausted, exhilarated and in awe. At their peak, they were the best band in the world. Past their peak, they were still the best live band in the world. Unbelievable shit.

(Oh, and in case you are wondering who the Kendall Jones both I and Wikipedia reference, he's the guitar player on the left who sings the bridge to "Party at Ground Zero." I hope he's better now because his life was a tragedy for a while...)

Turn the shit up, pogo and enjoy...!


And lest anyone think Fishbone were strictly a ska band, you can check out some of their heavier shit here and here and in this additional live clip below. There wasn't anything those guys couldn't do better than anyone else. The first of those links makes me particularly sad in a way because Kendall wrote and sang the song. However, he'd already fried and left the band by the time it was released and they'd joined the Lollapalooza festival in '93. So in the video, it's keyboard/trombone player Chris Dowd shown singing. But it's a particularly poignant song in hindsight given its religious theme and the "religious" reasons for Kendall leaving / freaking out.

Swim (seriously heavy)...

you got your chocolate in my peanut butter...

When greatness collides with greatness...

yay, music

Unexpectedly big music week for me this week. (Might as well take as much in while I'm here in The Big City while I can. Though, I do have a Meat Puppets show in Flagstaff in July to look forward to.) The agenda...

Tonight - The Breeders at the godforsaken, completely fucking awful venue known as the House of Blues. As you might guess, I hate that place. As someone more creative than me described the place, it's like going through airport security to go see an arena show at a Chili's. Dead on. I hate that place. In case I didn't mention that earlier.

Friday - The Sword, Torche at Lola's in Fort Worth. Haven't been to Lola's, but have heard great things about the place.

Saturday - Blood on the Wall, Record Hop at Lola's.

Should be a good week. Yay, me.

PS - I also intensely hate Ticketmaster. Who else could take a $19.50 ticket and bill you $34-something by the time it's all said and done? Fuckers. But I think I've mentioned that particular hatred before...

Cindy's favorite instrument

I had forgotten about the "manager" worming her way onstage with a tambourine. Eerily familiar and very funny...

fun for unemployed people

As Wendy said to me the other day, "YouTube is the devil." If you are a geek of any kind, you can lose all sense of time and/or responsibility with your diversion of choice. Since I'm a music geek, that's how I spend my time whenever I choose to cross over to the dark side.

A perfect example is this little gem I came across by accident the other day. One of the most memorable shows I ever saw in my adolescence was Black Sabbath in 1982. In fact, shockingly now that I stop to think about it, it's the only time I ever saw Sabbath live...and it almost doesn't count because it was the Dio/Appice lineup. Anyway, I found this clip - not from the show I saw but a London show from that same tour. The sound is atrocious, but it's so cool for me to witness the visuals in motion from that show and that song. It may look ridiculous now, but trust me...if you were a little metal dude in junior high in the early 80s, it did not get any cooler than this...



All the gushing over that show aside, though, this is still the only Sabbath that counts as far as I'm concerned. Great footage and sound quality, too...



One of the fun things about some of the folks at Unfair Park is that they can be nostalgia geeks just like me. They dug these clips up the other day from an old Genesis show in Dallas that I was definitely not at but would have loved. Actually, I have to admit still liking a great deal of old Genesis stuff...and I think I've figured out why: out of all those bands from 70s-80s prog-rock heyday, Genesis was probably the least pretentious of the bunch. Which is a back-handed compliment, for sure. But they were also the least concerned with showing off flashy, self-indulgent musicianship in favor of focusing on songs. A novel concept in the prog world. But how many other bands from that genre willingly spared their audiences from those ridiculous twenty-minute solos that folks like Carl Palmer, Chris Squire or Rick Wakeman would never dream of? And it's not as if Genesis couldn't have diddled us to death if they'd have wanted to. That's actually the neatest part of these clips...being reminded how truly great they all were as musicians without having to witness them beat us over the heads with solos and stupid shit like that. I had forgotten (or maybe never knew) that the band had ever toured with Steve Hackett playing guitar after Peter Gabriel left. It's also fun to watch to be reminded of what a truly extraordinary drummer Phil Collins was (I personally rank him in the all-time top five or so). And then there's Tony Banks, who I still think is perhaps the most underrated keyboard player from that time. Like the rest of the band, he wasn't flashy and he didn't play for the sake of making himself look good...he played what was needed for the songs. Back when I was first playing guitar, I remember deciding I wanted to play guitar the way Tony Banks played keyboards. It was a style that was concise and melodic...it functioned as a "lead" instrument without being overly obnoxious about it...

But whatever. I'm babbling. Just watch the shit.

And then I stumbled across this...one of my favorite songs from one of my all-time favorite albums (Faith No More's Angel Dust). I had no idea they ever made a video for this song, but it's wonderful...may be the greatest video I've seen years. Fucking hilarious.

music good...poverty bad

Well, I do this every year...mostly for my own amusement. And I'm always late putting this together every year...mostly because I have to play catch-up and buy a bunch of CDs that I didn't get a chance to buy before the end of the calendar year.

However, personal dramas have given way to financial dramas...so much so that, at least for the near future, "disposable income" will be but a quaint idea (becoming unemployed will do that to you). So all those usual rushed purchases unfortunately just ain't gonna get purchased. I wish I could think of genitalia large enough for this situation to suck. But...whatever.

So here are my favorite records from 2007. 'Twas a damn good year, musically. However, I'm still inviting the past year to suck my ass for personal reasons...

Non-local artists:

1. Biffy Clyro, Puzzle - They're my favorite band on the planet so, unless they just really fuck up royally, they'll always take home top prize.

2. Steve Earle, Washington Square Serenade - Lordy, I have missed the Steve Earle that is capable of writing songs like these. His past couple records have been among my least favorite from him, just because he'd been bending over backward to beat his political agenda into our ears. And while I agree with his politics and revere him like few others because of who he is and what he stands for, I very much prefer when he doesn't try so hard. Because, frankly, he doesn't need to. He's a fucking genius...period. Easily his best record since The Mountain, which was his best record since El Corazon, which was his best record. Wonderful stuff.

3. M.I.A., Kala - I think she's got the coolest taste in sampling since the very early days of the Beastie Boys or De La Soul. And she's got a bigger set of balls than anyone else I can think of in modern music...along with the talent to make them useful.

4. Ha Ha Tonka, Buckle in the Bible Belt - Now this was a surprise. Not so much that it's as good as it is, but that it's a debut record as good as it is. Having seen them open for the Meat Puppets this past summer, I can also testify that they're even better as a live act. And that is scary.

5. Kristin Hersh, Learn to Sing Like a Star - Probably the artist at the top of my musical heroes list...she never fails to inspire and amaze me. The music is top-notch - somewhere between her usually-quiet solo work and her noisier Throwing Muses stuff - and the lyrics, as always, are absolute genius. She thinks and writes in a way I'll never fully grasp. I wish I could borrow her mind for a day.

6. Queens of the Stone Age, Era Vulgaris - The last record was really great, though there was something oddly disappointing in it at the same time. Fortunately, whatever weirdness that was behind that vibe is missing from Era Vulgaris...so it's just a rockin' piece from start to finish. It amazes me that QOTSA has now exceeded the output and lifespan of Kyuss. Something about that is just wrong on a certain level...but I won't bitch.

7. Meat Puppets, Rise to Your Knees - I think a professional critic somewhere described this record as being more of a "getting back on our feet" affair than what we might otherwise expect from the reunited Kirkwood brothers...and that's pretty accurate. There are undoubtedly some terrific songs on here, but there are also things worth nitpicking over...like the fact that more than a few song tempos are too slow, and the continuing, stupefying tendency that Curt Kirkwood has in choosing the most boring, unimaginative drummers he can possibly find. Derrick Bostrom was never John Bohnam, but Shandon Sahm first and now Ted Marcus sure make him seem that way. But the Meat Puppets have always been Curt's show, anyway, which is as it should be.

8. PJ Harvey, White Chalk - Polly continues her trend of creating music that makes you feel like you’re in a confession booth with her. She's always been one of my favorite guitar players so I'm sure I'll come to think of this as her "piano album." Part of her brilliance, though, is that no matter how she chooses to deliver a song, the end result will be awesome.

9. Low, Drums and Guns - An absolutely hypnotic and fascinating band and this album in particular careens back and forth between sometimes incongruous extremes; at times haunting, amusing, disturbing, creepy and beautiful. Similar to Polly's record in that such amazing atmospherics are created based as much on silence as instrumentation. Or something like that.

10. Saul Williams, The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of NiggyTardust! - Very unfortunately titled, but brilliant in spots. Great sampling along with terrific, surprisingly restrained production from Trent Reznor, and biting lyrics from one of this era's true poets. Shame I'm gonna have to miss his upcoming show in Dallas, though...

11. Bjork, Volta - It's good to see her getting a little bit closer back to what passes for "traditional" Bjork music, although it's still a bit weak. There's some Asian-style instrumentation here and there that doesn't do much for me. And on two songs she's singing with some dude who...I have no idea who he is or where he came from, but he may be the most unappealing vocalist I've ever heard. Try to imagine a prissier-sounding Morrisey channeling Mr. Rogers while giving enunciation lessons...it's just foul. Make him go away, whoever he is...

12. Johnette Napolitano, Scarred - I still love Johnette, though my love is starting to wane. She's kinda like Iggy Pop in that when she cranks out a good lyric, it can be really good. But when she swings and misses, she really misses. And subtlety has never been her strong suit.

13. Pig Destroyer, Phantom Limb - Now, you'd think with the name Pig Destroyer you can't possibly go wrong, right? Well, you would if you were me, anyway. And you'd be incorrect either way. This band is actually quite revered among thrash-metallurgists, from the press I've seen. But this was honestly too much for me to take. Or too little...I'm not sure. At least with even the thrashiest of thrashers, there's at least something to grab hold of somewhere...a riff or a beat or perhaps the slightest hint of melody. But I'll be damned if I could find anything on here like this. It just sounded like forty minutes of scrambled ideas that might have made decent pieces of songs, but not actual songs themselves. Or maybe I'm just getting old...

And those above, unfortunately, were the only releases from last year I was able to get to before the money up and left. Still more unfortunate is the list of records that I wasn't able to get to...many of whom are among my absolute favorite artists. Just on the off chance that anyone feels like taking pity on me or is a really good shoplifter, here's what I couldn't get my hands on:

From the "fuckity-fuck-fuck!" group...
Café Tacuba, Sino
Public Enemy, How You Sell Soul To A Souless People Who Sold Their Soul
Radiohead, In Rainbows
The Yeah Yeah Yeah’s, Is Is (EP)
Tomahawk, Anonymous
Son Volt, The Search
Prong, Power Of The Damager
Fishbone, Still Stuck in Your Throat

From the "not quite sure, but most likely fuckity-fuck!" group...
Dalek, Abandoned Language
Black Francis, Bluefinger
Imperial Teen, The Hair The TV The Baby And The Band
High On Fire, Death Is This Communion
Thurston Moore, Trees Outside the Academy
Crowded House, Time On Earth
Gogol Bordello, Super Taranta!
The White Stripes, Icky Thump

And from the "flip a coin 'cause the last record sucked" group...
The Donnas, Bitchin’
Fu Manchu, We Must Obey

And then there's the (probably unnecessary) category of local-ish music. Of the few I was able to get to, here what I thunk...

Non-non-local artists:

1. Doug Burr, On Promenade - He's been far and away my favorite local live act since the first time I saw him...which might seem like a weird declaration. But just listen. And watch, if you can. My jaw drops every time. He's just flat amazing.

2. Red Monroe, ¡Policia! ¡Policia! - Right up there with Pleasant Grove with regard to being my personal, local music heroes. They defy description. (Although, everyone tries to compare them to Radiohead...I swear to god I hear traces of early Talking Heads on this record.)

3. Hogpig, Hold Back the Curse - Even the awesomely kick-ass band name wasn't enough to hold it together. Dammit...we hardly knew ya. Stay hard, Hogpig!

4. Daniel Folmer, Gloria - DdFW's most unheralded talent. In my humble opinion. I defy you to listen to "Serotonin" and ever be able to forget that song. Seriously...ever.

5. Eaton Lake Tonics, Vicodina / Hate When Bad Things Happen to Good Looking People (EP) - Low-fi fabulosity, virtuosity, curiosity and any other "osity" you can think of. Okay, and when I said Red Monroe defy description...this shit really does. It is literally all over the place while somehow keeping one foot on the ground at all times. Domenic is my hero.

6. Kristy Kruger, Songs From a Dead Man’s Couch - Okay, so this actually came out late 2006 and I was just late to the party. Sue me. It deserves additional props. Plus, she's totally dreamy, you know...

7. Lovie, Harshmellow - The more they gig, the more they write, the more they record, the better they get. They will rule the scene sooner rather than later. And can we all please show them some luv for a kick-ass album title...? (PS - They're all dreamy too.)

8. The Allens (self-titled) - This may have come out in '06 also...not sure. And Midland is local-ish, right? Whatever. It's good shit.

9. Jay Gummer, Push (EP) - Cheap Trick meets Weezer meets the Violent Femmes meets a bunch of other good shit I can't put my finger on. And he's got other nifty new stuff on his MySpace page now. So check him out already, bitches...!

10. The Hope Trust, The Incurable Want - Not without its flaws, but darn good. A more proper review will be appearing soon on an Important Local Music Blog That People Actually Read Regularly. Or not. But hopefully. (My review, I mean...not the blogsite.)

11. Fair to Midland, Fables From A Mayfly: What I Tell You Three Times Is True - All I can do is refer you to a previous post...if you give a shit. I certainly don't...

And I wasn't able to get to these sumbitches either, dammit...

The Crash That Took Me, Orchestrated Kaleidoscope
100 Damned Guns, Songs of Murder, Pain & Woe

...and probably another dozen or so that I either never heard about or am forgetting.

So there you go. I suck. But it wasn't entirely my fault. I'll try to do better in 2008. However, things aren't off to a particularly smashing start in that department either...

Fuckity.

How gay am I...?

Answer: pretty darn.

First off, I'd like to express my thanks and sympathies to my bestest friend, Wendy. She's had to endure two months solid of listening to me and my various existential crises. As a person...she just rocks like no one I've ever known.

At any rate, in the midst of my whining to her, I rapid-fired her the lyrics to a song that became stuck in my head because at least a few of the lines in the song were speaking to my particular issue of the moment. To my horror and her shame - they're the kings of midwestern, 70s-era cock, for crying out loud - she couldn't place the song. So for her edification, here it is...



So here's where the gay part comes in. (I'm just a thousand pounds gay in a dozen different ways. I know this...I embrace it - or at least acknowledge it. But this relates to a really specific example of my gayness.) I love Tommy Shaw. Total man-crush. I've always had it and I'm sure I always will. And I'm not a huge fan of Styx as a whole...just Tommy's stuff. The reasons for this...

a) He rocks. He was always the only decent set of balls that band ever had. Without him, they'd have veered off into concept-album, Broadway-based ridiculousness much sooner than they did.

b) There are certain singers that have this really hard to describe "pure" quality to their vocals. George Harrison had it, Juliana Hatfield has it, David Gilmour, Kim Deal, Serj Tankian and probably a few others I'm forgetting...they all have this quality. And, as you might guess, I believe Tommy Shaw has it as well.

c) He's rock-star-purdy.

I think my disturbing affection for Tommy Shaw kicked into high-gear when I saw him smash a guitar on stage during Styx's very ill-received set at the 1983 Texxas Jam. (Note the "trivia" listed underneath the band lineup listed on the previous link.) He didn't just smash the guitar...he destroyed it. Just gave it hell for a solid minute or so until it was nothing but shrapnel. I learned later, courtesy of VH1's "Behind the Music" episode about Styx, how that particular show was the beginning of the end for the band. Tommy's guitar-smashing tantrum was undoubtedly his way of releasing his frustration and angst from that whole Kilroy Was Here bullshit. And to say that set went over like a lead balloon would be a huge understatement. Literally, half of the Cotton Bowl audience fled in horror during their set. My friend and I were able to move from somewhere in the balconies to about ten feet in front of the stage during that set. Anyway...his histrionics were awesome.

But whatever. Apparently, I'm gay for Tommy Shaw. Sue me. I still think the dude is cool. And I could do worse, right? I mean, at least he's not Rhett Miller or something...

the sweet smell of success

One thing Merritt Martin and I have in common - well, aside from enthusiasm for her kickin' robot dance abilities - is a love of song lyrics horribly misinterpreted. One of my all-time favorites is one I think I provided to her blog...possibly my own, I can't remember. But it was my directing attention to the fact that for much of the song, rather than singing "Eyes Without a Face," it totally sounds like Billy Idol is singing "I'll Supply the Fish." Nobody else to my knowledge has ever seconded this notion, but I'm telling you...just listen.

Then a few weeks ago, I was listening to Black Sabbath's "A National Acrobat." One particular line - keep in mind, please, this was written in the mid-70s - is, "I crept inside my embryonic cell." However, Ozzy was at his most nasally back then and, as the song was functioning as background music for the hell that is my workplace, I heard, "I crapped inside my embryonic cell." Which may possibly change the entire meaning of the song, except for the fact that all the Sabbath guys were so droned out on acid back then there was probably no real identifiable meaning to begin with.

But then today I had a delightful flashback to what is without a doubt my greatest lyric misinterpretation ever. I've been a vegetarian for almost twenty years, but it's rare when the smell of some type of meat really grosses me out; I usually just recognize the aroma as something I know I ain't eatin' with the other folks. But every once in a while, a whiff of something will hit me like a brick wall and I'll damn near fall backward, it's so gross. As you might guess, today featured one of those moments. I still have no idea what was being served...just that it smelled fucking nasty. Just greasy and ooky and...just picture my facial expression whenever I see Ann Coulter and that will give you a clue to the look I'm sporting right now just thinking about it. My first response to the unwelcome and very unexpected aroma of fleshy gruel was a sarcastic, "Mmmm...carcass."

Taking that ball and running with it the way my mind usually does, I was immediately humming an old Siouxsie and the Banshees nugget called, yes, "Carcass." It's a great, rockin' little ditty from their debut record when they were Sex Pistols wannabes, and the chorus was, as best I can remember...

Be a carcass
Be a dead...(something)
Limblessly in love...

I don't claim to have ever understood what "limblessly in love" could possibly mean. But the line my brain invented for me, before I saw it on a lyric sheet years later:

Let me smell your love...

As with all bungled lyrics, the incorrect ones are always by far superior. But I swear this gem o' mine stands out, I think (and with all humility), as quite possibly the greatest misheard lyric ever.

Be a carcass...
Let me smell your love...

If I'd been exposed to Siouxsie and the Banshees just four years earlier, I guarantee that would have been on the inside of every compulsory Valentine's Day card I exchanged with my sixth grade classmates. Hell, if I ever get married, I may write the shit into my vows. Silly, romantic fool that I am...

The theme of odoriferousness among the three examples above was purely unintentional, I promise. Like many moments of genius in one's life, it was just a happy, smelly accident. And I just had to share. Because I am a giver, after all...

Happy early Valentine's Day, all. Let me smell your love.

xoxo

"I'm the trout player"

Okay, so after having heard about this interview for years, it finally occurred to me to try and catch it on YouTube. And it is so fucking funny (and a two-parter).



It's interesting on a few levels in that the interview took place not long before they started falling apart. But it's very cool - at least to someone like me who grew up a Kiss fanatic - to finally see everyone's actual personalities (sober or otherwise) on display in one room...how they interact and whatnot.

I was surprised to see how humble Peter comes across. He seemed like a genuinely compassionate person in the midst of the chaos they created for themselves. Paul...amusing on occasion, but kinda bland for the most part. And Gene, of course, was just as he is now: a control freak who will play along if he thinks it suits his interests, but otherwise annoyed if he's not driving the train.



I'd imagine Ace probably was/is a fairly quiet, reserved guy when he's not hammered. But for the most part, he was completely - well, mostly - articulate, and obviously hilarious. There were more than a few moments in these clips when I laughed out loud. But, "Actually, I'm a plumber"...genius. Probably one of the funniest lines I've ever heard.

Yes, they were stupid. Yes, most of those songs - certainly lyrically - are totally embarrassing. But as musicians, they worked really well together and, I think, still sound great to this day (what they recorded back then, I mean). Most of all, it was a fun time. And it still amazes me that that entire experience - the original Kiss heyday - only lasted six or seven years. It seemed like forever back then...

God bless Ace Frehley. I still love the guy.

"...the audio equivalent of seeing a circus on meth"

God, I wish I'd been able to see these guys when they were still around...

(it's Mr. Bungle playing "My Ass is on Fire")


There are no limits to the gloriosity of YouTube.

Nokia hates us all

You know, I wince when I hear myself described as being "more into metal" than...well, anyone else. Which is not to say it isn't true...just that it gives me the heebies. The onset of the hair metal era is what drove me screaming from most music that even faintly resembled it. It wasn't intentional or all that conscious, but I do remember noticing how vacuous, stupid and superficial it was becoming all of a sudden. And by the time speed/thrash/death/whatever metal started to emerge as a reaction to all the silliness and disposability, I was long gone. It took years before I would even consider listening to any music that could be classified into any sub-genre with the word "metal" in the description. I remember engaging in more than a few drunken conversations in my early twenties with John and Mike and the guys in their bands about how I thought speed-metal bands like Slayer, Metallica, Venom and Anthrax were nothing more than Black Sabbath riffs on crank. Which isn't that far from the truth, really. But the album that made me reconsider my intolerance was Metallica's Garage Days Re-revisited (an EP, actually). All it was was a collection of punkish, hardcoreish cover songs, but it pointed out to me how closely related punk and metal could be. (One of the best Slayer records, FYI, is their own covers album, Undisputed Attitude. Just forty or so minutes of treating your face like a punching bag, it is beautifully brutal.) And I didn't really even like Slayer until maybe a decade or so ago when I saw their "Seasons in the Abyss" video. I was instantly hooked because I loved how dark the chorus sounded...and just the sound in general - there's a weird tension in Slayer's sound that nobody else can duplicate. A lot of it is the result of Rick Rubin's productions - you can hear it in System of a Down and the Red Hot Chili Peppers and every other hard rock band he produces. But it's also just this weirdly unnerving vibe the band generates. I can't quite put my finger on it, but you know it the second you hear it.

So if you followed the first link, you got to read Val's review of the show. Turns out, she wasn't at all alone in her assessment. And while I agree with her for the most part, I have to admit being a tad disappointed in Slayer's show. I get the feeling the band wasn't completely committed to the notion of playing an hour-long set before that numbnuts followed them and were perhaps running a bit on auto-pilot. Then again, maybe I'd just waited so long to see them live that I built them up a little too much. But even if they were on partial auto-pilot, they were still better than a lot of bands on their best nights. (Please enjoy my kick-ass camera-phone photography. Makes you feel like you were there, huh...?) And while I did think the visual setup with priddy friggin nifty - what with the light show and the speakers arranged in upside-down cross fashion just above the amps and the strobe-speed video behind them - the sound of that place last night was just for shit. The guitars were muddy, Tom Araya's voice was inaudible at times. I told Val if I didn't already know the songs, I wouldn't know what the fuck they were doing...it would have sounded just like an hour-long, super-fast thrash song to me. For a facility whose sole existence was supposed to have been predicated on state-of-the-art acoustics...it was just fucking dreadful. The whole thing was a dull roar. And you had to pay fifteen bucks to park before listening to said dull roar. That ain't right.

And the silly double-bill setup just meant, I'm assuming, a shorter-than-usual set from the band. There were a ton of songs I'd have loved to see them perform (and, yeah, I know that's a bitch everyone has about every show). I'd have been a mighty happy dude if Slayer had played another hour or so. Though, that might also be proof that they weren't playing at one hundred percent; if they had been, it would have been pretty difficult to take that kind of pounding - as an audience member - for two-plus hours.

I will say I enjoyed being reminded of the more amusing aspects of going to metal shows. Whether you're at the Enormodome or the National Guard Armory, you can always expect certain elements and events to take place at any metal show. Walking through the lobby area, you will always hear one guy who's just drunk enough bellow the next band's name for no particular reason..."Ssllaaayyerr!"...which, in turn, elicits a response in the form of a wave-like crescendo from other folks who happen to be in similar stages of inebriation...only much, much louder - "SSSLLAAAAYYERRRR!!!" Never fails to happen and it never fails to amuse me. And confound me, for that matter. Another equally reliable and equally confounding inevitability is the collective viewing pleasure one gets from observing The Metal Chick. Now, while Slayer draws a predominantly male audience, Manson brought in the chicks. So god bless him for that, I suppose. What clothing wasn't tight was at least revealing (or vice versa). I don't remember the last time I saw so much cleavage in one night. Interestingly, though, I also never once saw the on-her-boyfriend's-shoulders-peek-a-boo flash that usually starts occurring a few beers into the evening. Maybe I was asleep if it did happen.

And then there was Manson. And, yes, I did take a brief nap during his set. Frankly, I don't understand what kept everyone else awake. It was everything I feared it would be, only worse. I was expecting to at least be treated to some kind of visual extravaganza, even while the music sucked. Instead, he just kinda slithered around basking in his own self-adulation. Val's comment that he amounts to a second-rate Alice Cooper was on the mark...most of the stage props - from the "knife" microphone to the enormous, Lewis Carroll-inspired chair (which reminded me of Spinal Tap's infamous "Stonehenge" moment somehow), to the top-hat he threw on from time to time...the only things missing were a guillotine and boa constrictor. And maybe, I was hearing things, but I'm pretty certain there was some serious prerecorded "assistance" going on in Manson's set. Unfortunately, we were seated where I couldn't quite watch the one good thing about Manson's band - his fantastic drummer, Ginger Fish. Now if only Ginger would wise up, bail out, and find a real band to play with...because he is outstanding.

So, anyway...that was the Val and Danny Metal Show Experience. I owe Valerie many thanks because I'm pretty sure my ticket was a birffday gift. So thank you again, Val.

SSSLLAAAAYYERRRR!!!

it's just what I do

Cindy wrote the greatest post on her blog yesterday about The Amazing Bill. It was a tribute of sorts, as KERA broadcast an essay Bill wrote for their "This I Believe" segment. Bill's essay was a perfect and beautiful crystallization of what I love so much about the guy. More than that, though, it was yet another confirmation that he and I, in my humble opinion, are flip sides to the same coin. The differences we have are pretty extreme - he's a man of strong, sincere Christian faith, whereas I'm a person with a strong, sincere (and intentional) lack of religious faith - but I find it kinda fascinating that we both arrive at those places with the same motivations driving us: compassion, admiration for people more creative than us, and a desire to serve. Someone...something...somehow. Bill's found his way to do so and he does it well. I'm still working toward getting myself into a condition where I'm able to do something I'm proud of or consider honorable - either for a living or at the very least on a consistent basis. (Maybe I need to rethink that whole religion thing...)

Cindy was "furious at the world" yesterday. Bill's essay inspired her to see events like the one she wrote about in a different light...not as a reason to be pissed off at everything but as an opportunity to contribute in a way that she finds mentally gratifying. I still think it's okay to pissed off so long as you have a purpose.

I was furious at the world yesterday, too. (What else is new...I'm usually pissed about something that's going on and, frankly, it's becoming a drain on my mental and physical health. As I've stated many times, moderation is not my strong suit.)

The reason for my anger...Without getting into politics or soapboxing, I'd just like to draw your attention to the following two articles in the hopes of finding out whether I'm alone in my conclusion that there's a disparity on display that is...well, you be the judge:

New Orleans marks Katrina anniversary

Not far away, President Bush visited a school. "We're still paying attention. We understand," he said before heading to the Mississippi Gulf Coast, also devastated by Katrina...

...(Said a man) whose house was the only restored home on an otherwise desolate block, "There was supposed to be all this money, but where'd it go? None of us got any."

Bush to request $50 billion more for Iraq war: report

The additional funds would come on top of about $460 billion in the fiscal 2008 defense budget and $147 billion in a pending supplemental bill to fund the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq...

Last night I had the pleasure of seeing the supremely talented and inspiring Kristy Kruger play the AllGood Cafe, with a really kick-ass band called Rose's Pawn Shop first backing her, then following with their own set. This show was for me what Bill's commentary was for Cindy, as it was a benefit for Hurricane Katrina relief efforts.

But the topics in the two above articles collide even more starkly if you know that Kristy's been on her own personal mission lately. Aside from - or in addition to - the fact that she lived and recorded in New Orleans and considers it her "true home," Kristy's older brother, Doug, was killed on the first day of his deployment to Iraq this past November. She plans to play shows in all fifty states in the U.S. in his honor. In her words, "Since he died in the name of this country, I'd like the country to know his name. And I'd like to see America, the whole thing. I'd like to see what he died for."

I videotaped (thanks again, Val) Kristy's tremendous show last night. I hope it turns out decent so that she and maybe Cindy can use the footage. If it winds up looking all Zapruder-film-jumbly or something, at least I got to enjoy some awesome performances, buy a copy of Kristy's third album and give a few bucks to the cause.

I considered showing the two aforementioned articles to Kristy last night. Not to push an agenda on her, but to see what her reaction would be. But something told me it would be inappropriate or insensitive (or both) to do so.

I'll get into the politics and ranting and raving about this later (trust me). In the meantime, I guess I'd just like to take this opportunity to thank Bill and Cindy and Kristy for inspiring me. And reminding me to do something with what hurts or angers me. To serve...somehow.

puzzle

Well, true to my flavorite band's history to this point, they're playing just a few shows (so far) with another band I really love. And, of course, they won't be setting foot anywhere near Texas...

More Dates For Queens Of The Stone Age

Queens Of The Stone Age have added a handful of new dates to their tour itinerary. Following an August 24 opening slot appearance with Rage Against The Machine, the hard rocking Queens will head to Canada before returning to the States September 14, continuing their live support behind their fifth and most recent LP, Era Vulagris (Interscope). Scottish trio Biffy Clyro will join the tour in October as an opener, showcasing tracks off their US debut Puzzle, to be released September 18 (Roadrunner Records).

Dammit. I'll totally be at the QOTSA show in Dallas, but it would be a dream bill to see them play with Biffy. I'm telling you, I'm going to just go apeshit when those guys finally make it down here

a good pal, indeed

The fantabulous Cindy Chaffin decided to slum it a bit and asked me to write a little something about my experience at the recent Dallas Observer Music Awards. I'm just glad she was as amused by my technological retardation as I was...

Thanks for the ticket, Cindy. And your support of whatever the heck it is I do is very, very much appreciated and more than a little inspiring. You remain, as the kids say, the shit.

fair to mediocre

You know, I really wanted to like these guys. For one reason, they're local...they've been plugging away for almost as long as I can remember. I saw them for the first and only time years ago at the Galaxy Club opening for Prong. At that time, I recall them being a lot more Deftones-ish than they apparently are now, and my mental review of them was that they weren't bad as a band - they had potential, but there was something about the singer that bothered me. So I blew them off.

Now, they're getting a big push as Serj Tankian - who I adore on a number of different levels - has "discovered" and signed them to his label. (It should be noted, though, that while I think the world of Serj, his taste in music doesn't quite match his talent as an artist/activist. System of a Down had some bunch called Bad Acid Trip - another Serjical Strike band - opening their Dallas show with The Mars Volta. Though they were unique and seemed to have some degree of promise, Bad Acid Trip were otherwise mostly just annoying.)

I made the mistake of listening to clips of a couple of the new Fair to Midland songs on their MySpace page, thought they sounded interesting, and bought the album. I gave the CD two complete listens and couldn't stomach any more of it. It was utterly precise, utterly slick, utterly without passion or originality...a homogenized, generic version of System of a Down. Like Incubus or something. I couldn't dump that fucking thing off on some other unsuspecting schmuck on Lala.com fast enough...

So, much like a good thing breeds a plethora of pale imitations and cheap knock-offs (Nirvana...Silverchair and Creed; Rage Against the Machine...Limp Bizkit and that's enough said about that), System of a Down appears to have wrought its own wave of SOAD-lite bands. A textbook example of which, sadly, comes from Dallas. And even more inexplicably is being aided and abetted by a System principal. Blech.

In the meantime, my favorite band on the planet have put out a thoroughly kick-ass new record. I am a happy camper. For reasons I still don't understand, these guys have yet to get even the teensiest amount of promotion in the U.S. (to the point where I had to buy their second record from Beggars UK and the new one from, I'm ashamed to admit, Amazon UK, because neither have even been released in the states); they're barely known outside Europe...where I gather they're pretty big. Anyway, please visit their site and check out a few of the videos from their new album, Puzzle. If I had a dream band, it would sound like BC. God, I love 'em...

attaboy...!

Thought for the day...

You are younger today than you ever will be again. Make use of it for the sake of tomorrow. - anonymous

And I caught a timely headline just a few minutes ago...

Punk icon Iggy Pop turns 60, dives off stage

That's my boy. The mere fact that Iggy's made it to age sixty is amazing in itself. But he looks so fucking good on top of that. Yeah, his face is a bit craggly, but have you seen his body? He's in incredible shape...for anyone, much less a dude that's sixty years old. And while it's been a few years since I've seen him play, back in the day when he was putting out some really damn decent solo records like Brick by Brick, Instinct, and Blah Blah Blah, he was one of the best performers I've ever seen. Like, easily in the top five. His shows were fucking phenomenal. The Ig's always been a hero of mine just because of what he says, the way he says it, and just his approach to life and art in general. So keep giving it hell, Iggy.

Oh, and on an unrelated note, check out today’s Google logo…very nice.

Ma(n)son..."subdivisions"...wow

Among the things I discovered while cleaning out my bedroom closet was something a bit startling (and funny). I took out all my old vinyl LPs and was looking through them for nostalgia's sake. And I noticed the following photograph inside the gatefold for Pink Floyd's Meddle...







Now, is it just me or is Nick Mason pretty much just one lazy eye - and one swastika carved into his forehead - away from being Charles Manson's identical twin...?









Oh, and here's another great (depending on your perspective) pic...this one from Rush's 2112...

Yes, the "we're sophisticated swingers...let's do some coke" outfits are entertaining in and of themselves. But may I direct your attention to that most unusual and impressive site - Alex Lifeson's (the blond dude) wicked camel toe.

While it's not quite as rare as spotting Bigfoot or something, the male camel toe is at least as fascinating and certainly more disturbing. Bravo, Alex. The fact that my eyes zeroed in on Lifeson's crotch is probably a subject best left for my therapist to consider, okay? In the meantime, let's all just enjoy the moment, shall we...?

PS - For additional camel toe fun/resources, make sure to check out The Camel Toe Report. Especially the "toe haiku" section. It's some of the funniest shit you'll ever read...

I will always have a soft spot for Iggy Osterberg

A lot of people who get stoned - they're just shy people. And there are people who hate what they are, who want to get rid of that part of themselves, to scrape it away...
- Rolling Stone, April 19, 2007

Oh, to be able to right-click real life…(random stuff)

First random topic…I never go to bars or whatever to meet new people, but if I start, I’m totally saving this line for reference…“I might not be the best looking guy here, but beauty's only a light switch away…”

Second random topic…I love Jim Schutze. He gets his knickers in a twist over the exact same kind of stuff that I do. Basically, he can’t stand being fed any amount of bullshit about anything and I can’t either. I get the feeling we have similar personalities…(hopefully) lovable curmudgeons who try to joke when we’re not bitching. Probably the only differences between us are that I swear way more than he does and people actually read what he’s bitching about. He’s one of the few writers who keep the Observer legitimate, in my opinion…

Third random topic…I’ve never cared for award shows or halls of fame or any of that stuff. But even though I think the idea of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is pretty stupid, I always have strong opinions about who should or should not be inducted every time the nominations are announced.

The First Major Annoyance with regard to this subject is that The Pretenders were inducted. On the first try, no less. I find this highly annoying because, a.) “The Pretenders” released two albums…the first being one of the greatest albums of all time and the second being one of the greatest examples of “sophomore slump” of all time; after that it was the Chrissie Hynde Show, which proved to be much less impressive and suggests to me – as with David Byrne and Talking Heads – that the leader of the band is/was only as good as her/his collaborators. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, necessarily. But in Chrissie Hynde’s case, it’s especially annoying because she’s one of the biggiest phonies and hypocrites in rock music. She wrote some good songs after half the original incarnation of The Pretenders died by overdose…it’s just that there were only about maybe six or so over a twenty-plus year period. Not very award-worthy, in my opinion.

The Second Major Annoyance is that Van Halen were inducted on their first nomination while it took Black Sabbath, like, five times or something. That is so, so hideously wrong on so many levels. Yes, I’d put Van Halen in. But Black Sabbath – as much as the Beatles, the Stones, Zeppelin and The Clash (and I’m being serious) – should have been an absolute no-brainer, slam-dunk, pick your cliché. Think about it…for better or worse, heavy metal and all the related genres – bands from Slayer to Nirvana – would probably have never existed. I honestly can’t think of another band on the planet who has been so influential. Again, I’m not kidding. They invented their own genre…period. Yes, they were bloated and embarrassing toward the end of the 70s, but the first half of that original lineup was as important to the history of hard rock as anything else…ever. Prove me wrong, goddamit.

Fourth random topic…There has been a series of events that has propelled (read: dragged kicking and screaming) me into the twentieth century recently. Just in time for the twenty-first, I know. While I have always believed strongly in the need to have a cell phone, I have also always had a great reluctance to actually use my cell phone much…a reluctance that was based as much on lack of necessity as it was my fear of gizmos. Nevertheless, because of the aforementioned series of events, I have become – oh, god – Cell Phone Guy. At least, compared to what I was prior to a few weeks ago, anyway…

The series of events in a nutshell: For the last five-plus years, I have only had one credit card, which also happened to be my bank card. Well, a couple weeks ago, somebody got hold of my card number (probably online) and started charging a bunch of fraudulent shit up in New York. (The good news, for me, was that they didn’t go off and buy some high-definition, high-plasma, high-whatever TV or something…they actually used it for ordinary stuff: a meal at McDonalds, a bus pass, some stuff at Home Depot. So part of me actually feels good that, while it was theft, at least they were stealing shit that helped them get through a day. They got fed, they got taken some place they needed to go, perhaps fixed something at home. I can live with that.) Fortunately, the fraud was caught quickly, but it left me without a credit card…and since I rarely carry cash, this was a problem of some significance for me. I spent much of the rest of that day running home from work to get my checkbook, running to the bank to write a check to get cash, running back to work to get online, talk to the credit card people, etc. And since I was running about – and knew that I’d be working all weekend – I had to rely on my cell phone for all the different people who needed to get in touch with me about different things. (I should also mention that I was more or less “on call” because of some projects at work and needed to be able to drop everything and run across town for extended periods of time, be updated on the progress of said projects constantly, etc.)

Anyone who knows me knows I have zero patience, tolerance, talent and disposition for anything technology-related. (The irony that I’m blogging about this is not lost on me, by the way. But I must point out that the extent of my computer skills and understanding is basically typing. I can type the fuck out of anything. That’s why all my posts are so goddamn long. It’s not because I have anything important or brilliant to say…I can just type whatever comes to mind almost immediately. Talented hands, perhaps…not so talented brain. Oh, and I know you can sometimes right-click on something and save it. Occasionally, I’ll just right-click on something for no good reason…just ‘cause I know something computer-y will happen when I do. Beyond that, though, I’m basically a chimp.)

I’m not like many folks who are drawn like moth to flame to anything with buttons, lights, bells, whistles or otherwise pokey things. Indeed, I am repelled immediately and almost violently from them – much like a crucifix to a vampire or empathy to a Republican – because they immediately reveal my true nature as a complete and utter retard toward all things…I don’t even know how to say it. Technological? It’s not “detail-oriented” because I’m good with shit like that at work (and, in fact, the words are in the title of my Monster resume that has been floating uselessly up in the cyber ether for longer than I can remember). My co-workers would confirm this…the fact that I am the absolute shit when it comes to knowing, remembering and communicating the most mind-numbing minutea regarding anything product-related (I still haven’t decided if my job gradually made me anal-retentive in some ways or if it instead just brought that previously-dormant quality to the surface – I prefer the former theory, but can’t confirm). But I’ve always been this way and I don’t know why. Back in the day when I could halfway-seriously call myself a “musician,” I had absolutely no patience for other musicians…mostly because, if they weren’t talking about music theory or some other shit that broke music down into, like, math or something, they were constantly going on about their gear; this pedal does this, you plug this thing in here, hook this to that to this and you can find yourself with a thousand sound options for…bleh. I have always been a “just let me fucking hit the ‘on’ button and go” kind of guy. And not in any sort of Unabomber-y way…I don’t have any philosophical problem with technology. I just know I can’t process the shit.

I do know that whenever the time comes for me to replace this antiquated hunk of shit in front of which I’m sitting now for a new, more bitchin’ model, I’m going to have to ask Val or Julie or somebody with some sort of computer knowledge to go with me. Otherwise, I’m just going to end up in a Best Buy at midnight, crying and drooling all over myself before passing out and being taken somewhere for “evaluation.” It will be nice to have something that doesn’t freeze up automatically whenever I have more than two things open…but the transition will not be pretty, I’m sure.

That's all. Just wanted to vent.