Thursday, 24 March 2016

The Lion and the dragon / Heaviest tones ever caught on tape: the mystical sightings of the flying amp monster

Another day, another hangover. Drinking doesn't solve anything, yet it helps me to stay somber. Being sad helps me focus on one thing instead of multiple things all at once. I guess once my brain's activity is down, I can work on a single problem. It makes thinking more time consuming but a lot easier - my mind doesn't get tired as much in the process, and it is less noisy here that way. Sober thinking, on other hand, feels like suddenly loosing eyesight in a big city in the middle of a busy street, where every sound is supposed to represent a thought. I don't feel very comfortable here, I feel lost.

Feeling pain, both physical and emotional, keeps me feeling connected, it keeps me sane and focused. Having short term goals, be it living through the pain caused by the tattooing needle continuously penetrating my skin, awaiting for that referee to finally give me a "down" command while I stand there with a heavy barbell in my hands feeling, how my calluses are ripping open or rushing to my grandpa's place, when he is having a stroke, makes living easier. Life is the easiest when it is the hardest. When you have aim and you know what to do to achieve it, everything else just falls into its rightful place. Without primitive short term goals, I feel disassociated from the reality, living inside the locked cell that is my tireless mind and peeking through the keyholes that are my eyes. Observing this reality from the inside out as if it was all just a movie, narrated by an ever-anxious voice inside of my head, waiting for a decent plot twist and hoping that the end credits will not hit it during a cliff-hanger. 

As you might have gathered, I'm a very destructive person, and I'm in the process of tearing down my old world and building up a new one. A world, where a borderline nut job like me could be at peace. It's something I've tried doing numerous times and have succeeded to some extent, but this time it will be a lot different. This time I'm determined, I WILL burn it all down to the ground and my recent unsuccessful relationship is a tremendous catalyst in doing that. I must redefine the very fabric from which the blurred borders of my current behavior and morals are built. The world does not work and has never worked in the ways that are rooted in my own values and morals, so a complete detachment from both mine and other people's socially accepted/less accepted and unaccepted behaviors, values, traditions and the very definition of what is good and evil is required from me before I even start thinking about how to put back my own brave new world. 

Every destruction should be accompanied with a fitting soundtrack, and as I'm the one in charge, then I would like it to be the heaviest thing possible. So I give you the top 13 songs with heaviest guitar and bass tones ever caught on tape.  

 

Enjoy and play them LOUD!

#13 Tombstones - Barren Fields




#12 Livid - Sint (part I)




#11 Melvins - Joan of arc



#10 In the company of serpents - Blood from stone




#9 Iron Monkey - Fink dial



#8 Golden bats - Sinking city




#7 Yob - Burning the altar


#6 Sleep - Dopesmoker


#5 Sea witch - Dragged accros the ocean floor




#4 Eagle twin - Epilogue, crow's theology




#3 Sunn O))) - Hunting & gathering




#2 Electric Wizard - I, The Witchfinder


#1 Buried at sea - untitled III    











Sunday, 20 March 2016

Drifting in a current to stagnate / The inability to break a cycle

The following post is deeply personal and is written as an outlet of my emotions and thoughts, to help me better understand the situation I'm in at the moment and probably work as a reminder for myself in the future. For those of you who care only about the music, please spare yourself the irrelevant details of my personal life and read no further than the embedded players. For the rest of you - I hope that you as well as me might gain something from this post.






Reality kicked in this Friday's evening and it kicked me right in the sack. An affair between me and a woman I held very dear to myself ended. An affair that I never thought would happen again after history we both shared before. But she reached out to me one day and made me think that I was that someone special in her life, even though she was plain clear, that she only wanted sex from me. I guess I only heard the things I wanted to hear. Do you know who else hears and sees only the things he believes in? A religious person. As long as I remember, I have despised these people for mindlessly believing miracles, and now I've become one of them, not even knowing about it. Shame on me! Miracles and love have a few things in common - they are both not real and they cloud your judgment. Miracle is a trick played by another person or natural phenomena on your mind through illusion, and love is a trick played by your body on your mind through secretion of hormones.

After a few times of intimacy, she confessed to me that she lives together with a man. A man that did not care enough for her and both mistreated and neglected her. She was on the brink of a breakup and the only thing that kept her with him was their common dog and their apartment. So I, being a naive dumb-fuck as I am and even realizing that this might be as destructive to me as falling in love with a lesbian, thought that this doesn't change anything between us, there is no black and white in life, only shades of gray. So I decided to go with the flow, probably convinced that her breakup with the guy is inevitable. Besides I was fantasizing about her for the last year and a half and to say that I like her a lot is an understatement. A few weeks passed, and I felt like I was drifting into insanity. I was drinking myself to sleep knowing for a dead fact that they both share the same bed, and there was nothing I could do about it yet I was determined to do my best to make our relationship work and after some time it actually grew from just fucking our brains out into something bigger, and even beautiful. Needless to say, we enjoyed each other's company. It seemed, that we had formed a strong connection between us and nothing could go wrong - at least that's what I thought. Of course deep inside, I realized that shit can hit the fan every minute. So it did, but nevertheless I was surprised by her choice. After all the nasty things she told me about him, she still decided to give the guy another chance, simply because he had changed and he was trying to make their broken and miserable relationship work. Whatever fucking "changed" and "trying" means... I just imagine him crying something along the lines of  "I love you, I love you with all my heart. And even though I can't bring you your pajama pants when you have a fever and you are specifically asking for them, I'm trying. I'm TRYING so fucking hard!". I'm dead serious about the pajama pants. That guy is insufferable. I fucking hate him and I would beat the living shit out of him, if I had had the chance. I call bullshit on "changing" and "trying". I've seen this too many times before in my own life. Nothing ever changes! Nothing ever gets better! Those are just pathetic lies of parasitic and manipulative people that are not able to live independently without their host on whom to feed upon. The very notion of her believing that miserable piece of pig turd, makes me sick to my stomach. I can't believe that she doesn't see it! I want to pull out my fingernails and crawl on walls because of all of the frustration that has built up inside me because of this situation. At this point I don't care, if she will ever end up with me, she obviously will not as she made it very clear to me, but I just want her not to be with that "man", she deserves better. As I am bound to repeating the same mistakes when it comes to choosing partners, she is bound to believing the same lies over and over a again. We both share the same thing - the inability to break a cycle.  

During our short but colorful relationship, I received a present from her. A framed poster of a 1985 horror movie "Re-Animator". Now I do see some irony in it...



Monday, 14 March 2016

Hangover / gagging / biblical execution

For me Saturday morning started with a racing heartbeat, headache and a massive hungover from the night of drinking before. I'm actually quite hammered writing this right now on the Sunday evening as well. In fact I was so fucked up, that when my cousin with whom I was drinking earlier today, asked me, what time is it, I looked at the clock and even though it showed 21:38, I said: "SEVEN"... That should give you a hint that my brain isn't even functioning quite well at the moment, and that is the reason I'll probably have to do some editing of this post tomorrow morning when I'll be sober again. Anyway after any type of high there is a huge low, and I usually deal with lows by using a small dose of the same high again and listening to some very loud, visceral music, and weekend's bands of choice were "o.d.r.a" and "Druid". These also happen to be one of the latest additions to my music collection.

The first one is an awesome sludgy blues metal band from Poland with the instrumentation in the fashion of dirt filled 90's New Orleans sludge and with the vocals that sound like gagging on rusty nails and bleach. Taking in consideration both my physical and emotional state at that moment, it was exactly what the doctor had prescribed. Give these guys a listen and check out their latest three releases - quite astonishing. Those of you, who love "Iron Monkey" and "Dopethrone", will quite possibly like these dudes as well.


The second one leans more towards the proto-metal side and is stonier than a biblical execution. The stuff these guys compose is absolutely rad and will definitely make you want to be closer to nature.


Besides I have to bow before them, because they did a splendid job covering Sleep's "Sonic Titan".



Tuesday, 8 March 2016

Claustrophobia and the most artistic hardcore punk band you've never heard of...


So I'm in my claustrophobic "Smarthotel" room in the Norwegian capital once again. And when I say claustrophobic I mean it - the room consists of a bed, a corridor and a shitter/shower closet. Yes, I used the word "closet" intentionally in the previous sentence, and you guessed it, it is because it is as small as a closet... Actually even my closet back home in my apartment is bigger. In fact it is so big, that I can come out of the closet every morning...no homo.


The hotel's room plus the latrine will definitely not make more than 8 square meters combined, which for you readers, who refuse to embrace the metric system and are more into using the imperial system, would be somewhere between 3 square barrels per ounce of Kelvin and 5 cubic kennings. 

The sink is so small that most of the water you pour on your hands gets unto your pants and floor. This made brushing teeth in the mornings of my first few stays a huge hemorhoidal pain in the ass. The mirror in the bathroom is also very strategically placed - it is just accross from the toilet bowl and it starts just right at your eye level. Apparently so that, when you take a huge dump in the morning, you can notice your purple, strained face in the mirror's reflection, and empty your bowels with an explosive force, as the result of bursting into uncontrolled laughs and farting. It is quite comical I must say, so whoever thought of this, I salute you! 






Although I whine about, how small the the place is, I always keep returning back to the same place over and over again. Mainly because it is:

  • cheap,
  • warm, 
  • in a relatively quiet street, although it is in the city centre
  • has a decent breakfast, and I can eat as much as I want,
  • public transportation is really close,
  • and whenever I look outside my window, I don't see two junkie bums fighting over a half-eaten sausage and yelling some gibberish at each other.




As I've started talking about the small things, let me tell you a legend about a band that comes from a tiny European country of Luxembourg.

dEFDUMp was started by 4 visionaries, who in the retrospective had the greatest influence on my musical upbringing and development of my musical taste to this day, period! I've got introduced to the art of this band by an old friend of mine Jānis, whom we all called Jonathan back in the day as he resembled Jonathan Davis of Korn a bit. And when we were fourteen or fifteen Korn was the shit. Every "cool" guy and gal at the school listened to Korn or Slipknot and only a few guys knew of the good stuff, the stuff that was hidden from the sight of the ignorant. And even though I listened to some relatively good stuff like Nirvana, Tool and Pantera, and as much as I don't wish to admit it, I did belong to the ignorant ones (there was even time when I was pretending to listen to "rap" music and dress accordingly just to "fit" in with the other kids...that was the lowest of lows...). Jānis on the other hand was one of those rare people about whose musical taste I knew Jack Shit of. He listened to Cult of Luna, Callisto, Solaris, Tesa and dEFDUMp at the time, and I remember the first time I heard some of that stuff at his place. I was fucking amazed about how "heavy" it was compared to the things I was listening to. I'm very gratefull that he showed me some of this stuff, otherwise I would be listening to some gutterbox oompa loompa uhn tiss, uhn tiss up until now. Needless to say I fell in love with the sound of the band, and they became my portal into the unknown world of the "underground" music. If it wasn't for them and J. I would never end up in the sludge, doom, drone and even black metal domain and that would suck big time.


The band released quite a long list of albums, so I'll just name them and add my most reminiscent track from the release.

Hempcore

Not a fan of this release. It is completely different from their later works.


Circle's Closing


 



David Versus Corporate Society





The Sparkle Has Become a Flame





Shallowness of Beauty


This was a split with the Italian hardcore punk heavyweights Kafka.





Makeshift Polaris




This Is Forevermore


This was their last effort. I must say, that they stayed true up to 2008 and finished their carreer with style - the band released a double cd album, made a farewell tour, disbanded soon after and never showed up in the public again.




Wednesday, 2 March 2016

Transmissions from the mental facilty: industrial insanity from the musical geniuses.



"Industrial" is not my music of choice 99% of the time, but every now and then I stumble across or get introduced to an act that is worth pure gold.

"Corrections House" is a collective of musical geniuses: Scott Kelly, Mike IX Williams, Sanford Parker and Bruce Lamont. If you don't know, who any of these people are, then Google their names and find it out - to say that their combined impact on the music scene was very influential would most certainly be an understatement. 

I'm usually skeptic about the "supergroups", as most of the time they tend to be disappointing to say the least. Take the self titled album by "Killer be Killed" for an example - they had half a track out of an entire record that was decent enough, the rest of it was a total "mehfest". This is not the case with the "Corrections House". Mike's depressing and bizarre poetry and lyrics, Scott's unconventional guitar riffs, Sanford's musical experience and Bruce's haunting saxophone complement one another. There is also another man involved in the band, whose identity is somewhat mysterious. His name is Seward Fairbury and the band proclaimed him as their "Minister of Propaganda"! Fuck me, right, a killer position?! There is also very limited information about the guy on the internet besides a couple of articles mentioning him and his own personal twitter account, where the last tweet is more than a year old. To be honest, I think the guy probably does not even exist. It leaves the feeling, that he might be the same to the "Corrections House" as Tyler Durden was to the "Fight club", but again, this is just my exclusive opinion, and who am I to have an opinion about this matter. Anyhow, I'm way off track here... what matters is, that their music is amazing. It is collision of many different musical directions that form a surreal sound, absurd yet making perfect sense. It is a soundtrack to a self-destructive society, mental problems and substance abuse caused by an intelligent man's incompatibility with the reality of an irrational world.



While I'm at it, here are a few honoroble mentions, that share the same genre with the mentioned act:




Tuesday, 1 March 2016

Drugged up and hopeless


It's that time of the year again and I've been listening to "EYEHATEGOD" nonstop for a week straight. Today I received two separate messages with the same album link from two dear friends of mine almost simultaneously. Their musical taste differs from mine a bit, but I thought to myself, that there is no way both of them could be wrong. So I clicked on the link and pushed the "play" button... and I'm glad I did. Unholy fucking shit - the production and the riffs! THE PRODUCTION and THE RIFFS! This was the exact thing I was crawing, something drugged up, hopeless but fresh. These Russians pull it off gracefully, and I assure you that the vocal parts are not done with the stereotypical Hollywood movie Russian accent. 

This album would be an insta-buy for me, if I wasn't so damn broke at the moment. So if you are into good music, then buy it and support the band, if not, then you have probably inherited shitty genes from your parents and there is nothing in the world I can do about it, blame your mom and/or dad.