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Day: October 12, 2011

The Atlas Moth’s “An Ache for the Distance”

I recently ordered this as an LP after listening to their first album A Glorified Piece of Blue Sky on Spotify. A lot. I fell completely in love with their sludgey/proggy sound. The album’s a downtempo wall of sound piercing your skull and sending you into the corner to hide. Fear The Atlas Moth. Worship The Atlas Moth.

It’s funny, as I get older I find myself drawn toward this sort of raw, less-produced, noisey, sludgy, loud sort of metal. There was a point when I was really into that super clean Killswitch Engage/Unearth/Darkest Hour sort of sound, but when I listen to the output of those bands these days, it just feels too sterile, a little boring, wildly over-produced. I still love their older records out of some sort of nostalgia, but I can’t help but be turned off by the cleanliness of their recent records.

In fact, the vinyl I’ve been buying is split effectively into two groups: black/sludge metal and indie music. You’ve got Barghest and The Magnetic Fields, Dark Castle and Bonnie Prince Billy, Coffinworm and Andrew Bird. And now we’ve got this new Atlas Moth record on the way and I am super super psyched about adding it to the collection. Maybe, The Atlas Moth and Neutral Milk Hotel?

Anyway, give the album a listen up there if that’s your jam. I am listening to it right now and it’s making these 20+ hours of Under Armor dailies all that much more palatable. I was going to tell you to head on over to Profound Lore and get a copy of the vinyl, but it looks like they’re sold out. Oops! HAHAHA! Suckas!

On the Advice of Torgeir, The Black Metal Extremist III

Question:

My fiancé and I are researching venues for our wedding rehearsal dinner. We found an Italian restaurant that seemed perfect. We sat with the manager and came up with menu ideas, and told him we would come back that night to try the food. We returned with a couple of friends and spoke with the night manager, who knew about us and promised to “take care of us.” The meal was multicoursed and delicious, but we were shocked by a $300 tab. Were we wrong to take the manager at his word and assume the meal would be free?

You are always wrong to assume things whether you are assuming your sacrificial dagger is sharp enough to cut the still beating heart from another human or that you are in a place to receive charity from a restaurant owner.

Have you used your brain for even a moment and realized that the manager might have meant something other than “I will give you free food, you pathetic worms”? That perhaps he just meant that he would ensure that you miserable cretins would have a nice time and have your desires tended to? Have you thought about that? Of course you hadn’t, you presumptuous cow. You think that you should be given something for free because you asked or because you misinterpreted what he said? Do you think he needs to court you to ensure that he can continue to put food on his table? I assure you, wench, that he does not.

Your mewling cries for charity are pathetic. You are weak. Charity is the refuge of those who lack the strength to care for themselves and affect their own futures. “Oh!! We expected free dinner! We are getting married! Poor us! It was 300 dollars! The manager said something vague that we thought meant one thing but meant something else! WHINE WHINE WHINE!!!”

While you are out there planning for your “rehearsal dinner” and “wedding” and “reception”, I am carrying on the more important work of purging this world of the blight of Christianity and spreading the unholy power of black metal. Do you think I ever once expected to get anything for free? Never. Though a vast majority of my income is paid through Norway’s generous social welfare system, I never took a handout a day in my life. You could learn from me what it means to be strong, to fight against adversity, to struggle. Instead you whine and complain about how hard it is to find a place to fill the fat, unrelenting mouths of your “family” and “friends”.

Furthermore, your adherence to the Christian tradition of marriage makes me vomit blood into the snow. The steam rising from my vomited blood stinks of copper and bile and whiskey and even this stench does not accurately describe my disgust for you. Don’t get married. Break off the wedding. Your fiancé will be better off without you.

Die in a fire.

Soundtrack: Gorgoroth’s “Under the Sign of Hell”

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