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The Black Laser

Thoughts on the High on Fire/Unearthly Trance/Natur show I attended on Tuesday night.

On Tuesday night I went to the Music Hall of Williamsburg to see High on Fire with Unearthly Trance and Natur at the behest of my buddy Josh. It was a pretty good show, but I didn’t stop thinking the whole time, primarily because I wasn’t drinking. Hah! Some thoughts in chronological order.

Natur

I had never heard of or heard this band before Josh asked if I was going to see High on Fire, but as it turns out the band is comprised of a bunch of friends of my friend Angela, dudes I’ve partied next to, if not exactly with. I walked into the venue part way through their set and immediately recognized them as the dudes in the Black Metal shirts I used to see at Motor City all the time. Small world. That also meant that I knew a bunch of folks in the crowd which was pretty fun.

Musically, Natur is a thrash band with heavy reference to the old school. I thought they rocked, and I particularly liked that the drummer Tooth kept throwing the upside down cross with his drumsticks. Fuck yes. My buddy Joe Hogan noted that he’d seen them play twice before, but that this was the first time he’d actually heard them. I was glad for that. There’s nothing to spoil your first impression of a band like bad sound.

I couldn’t really tell you much more about the songs they played save that I enjoyed the set and would be excited to see them again.

Unearthly Trance

Unearthly Trance is the main band of Ryan Lipynsky, who has been mentioned here before, so I was pretty excited to see them play. Loud as fuck, doomy as hell sludge, they totally rocked. Apart from a blown bass head, the set went off without a hitch that I noticed.

Though I didn’t know any of their songs going into it, I’ve really been enjoying The Howling Wind record I won. Not the same exactly, but in the same realm. You know when something is so loud that you actually feel your eardrums vibrate? Yup. Unearthly Trance did that to me. Now, you’ll say, “Joe, why aren’t you wearing earplugs?” to which I’ll reply, “SHUT UP. YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME.”

Why is it that the metal bands doing the most interesting shit in metal are typically the dudes who look least metal? Apart from the drummer’s Nile t-shirt, you’d never think these guys were metalheads if you saw them walking down the street. I like to call guys like that sleeper agents, ready to bring the fucking metal any time but can blend in to regular society, insidiously spreading the message. It’s a term I coined to describe myself when I’d meet new people and they’d find out I’m way into metal. They would inevitably say something like, “Wow, I never would have thought you’d be into death metal.” And I’m all, “I’m a sleeper agent, baby.”

As with any metal band, Unearthly Trance’s real centerpiece was their drummer. Darren Verni worked up a hell of a sweat on stage and totally fucking killed it. He was attacking his drums with pure rage. Recommended. I feel sorry for Josh who decided to sit the set out. Your loss, buddy!

High on Fire

I’ve never understood High on Fire. They’re a metal band and all, but their appeal has always been a mystery to me. I’ve heard their records, seen the music videos, and whatever, but their music has never really clicked with me in the same way as so many other bands. After seeing them live, though, I feel like I get it a little better now. I’m still not a fan, but I at least understand sort of where they are coming from in terms of the metal they make. I described them to my friend JJ as “tough guy hesher party metal.” I think that’s pretty accurate. They definitely rocked the venue and the crowd was way into it. I enjoyed the set, but I don’t think I’d go out of my way to see them play again.

Their energy was undeniable, but by the time the set ended and they went backstage for their “Let’s pretend the show’s over, grab a beer, and then go back out and play our mandatory encore” I seriously considered leaving. I think the crowd threw me a little. It must have been the most aggro crowd I’ve seen in a while.

There’s something funny about metal that many of you non-metalheads don’t understand. The heavier a band gets, the more extreme their music, the less aggressive the crowd becomes. It’s not that there isn’t aggression, it’s that the people at the shows are less aggressive to each other. For example, if you go to see Portal and Gorguts as I did a while back, you get a crowd who is way into the music but not being a bunch of fucking dicks to each other. Same for Pig Destroyer or Brutal Truth or any incredibly heavy metal show.

Now, you get these bands that are heavy but somewhere in the middle ground, like High on Fire, and the meathead cocksucker contingent comes out in force. They’re the guys who are aggressive as fuck, but intimidated by genuinely extreme music. They also don’t really get the metal show etiquette and think that it’s all about fighting and aggression and shit, when it isn’t. It’s about release and rocking out and the music, but never ever about fighting. If you knock someone over in the pit, you help them up. That’s rule number 1. You try to avoid the chick who doesn’t know better and is standing on the edge of the pit. No fucking karate dancing, asshole. If someone bumps you, don’t get all bent out of shape about it. Am I the only person who thinks these rules are real? I doubt it. I’ve seen similar etiquette at shows since I’ve been going in my early teens. You learn it. You follow it. Everyone has a good time.

But the crowd the other night seemed to be ignorant of these common, unspoken rules of the metal show. I nearly got barreled over by some fucking 6’9″ giant of a man a few times who couldn’t be bothered just to take his time working through the crowd. He kept coming and going pit to bar, pit to bar, pit to bar. Anyone who’s been to a bunch of shows knows how to work his way through a crowd. I like to call it “the hand on the back”. It will move anyone, it’s not dick, and it works. People don’t mind being touched when there’s a billion people all around you to see Slayer or whatever; it’s unavoidable. But just pushing your way through is rude. Bad etiquette.

So there you go, a bunch of arbitrary opinions and bullshit. If you wanted informed analysis, go read Cosmo. If you want senseless blathering, The Black Laser is your jam.

If I had to rate the sets from 1 to 10, 10 being the highest, I’d do it like this.

  • Natur: 7
  • Unearthly Trance: 9
  • High on Fire: 5

More show reviews as I go to them.

Further thoughts on the Gathering of the Juggalos video I posted the other day phrased as a series of short questions.

Waffle House?

Vanilla Ice?

Gallagher?

Sugar Slam?

Helicopter rides? Again?

The Alfred Hitchcock of hip-hop? (for Josh.)

“I fucking love Tech Nine”?

Hatchet house bubble foam party with the Axe Murder Boyz?

TV star Todd Bridges?

Flashlight wrestling?

Warren G regulating?

The narrator saying “muthafuckaz”?

Big Money Rustlas on DVD but not on Blu-ray?

17:24?

The song clip from Boondox?

Anybody Killa’s lisp?

Coolio?

“He does have good dick jokes”?

Reference.

On eating and the single man.

There was a moment in my life when I regularly ate at home. I cooked (or cleaned) and there was dinner time and, on the weekends, often breakfast time and lunch time. I still shop like these things are a part of my life, but I recognized last night that they are not. It’s not that I cannot cook (I can) nor that I do not like to cook (I do), it’s more that my brain is constantly occupied with other things to the point where I will forget to eat for the whole day. Yeah, sure I get hunger pangs, but those are easily ignored as distractions to whatever the hell else I’m doing or staved off with an apple or crackers or something minor. I think the last time I actually cooked something at home was when Fiduk and I had our last mandate here, early in June. Granted, I was gone for most of June, but I sure as hell didn’t cook at my parents’ house which is odd since I usually do a lot of cooking there.

And it’s not like I’m eating out a lot, either. I mean, I eat out a couple times a week, but not every day. And I’m not working a lot of nights which would mean that my dinner was bought for me. Awesome job perk, I know. I’m just not eating. So weird.

And why not? It’s not for lack of food. Right now my pantry is amply stocked with pasta, rice, quinoa, crackers, granola, cereal, hot sauce, and a bunch of other crap that usually fills a pantry. My fridge has broccoli, pears, salami, cheese, tortillas, juice, and whatever. I’m not lacking. If it gets empty, I walk over to the grocery store half a block away and buy stuff for it. Done done done.

Yet, when faced with the idea of stopping to make dinner, I often give it a, “meh.” For example, it took serious, conscious thought just to make a stupid sandwich for dinner last night. Why?! It’s the easiest thing in the world. The only thing that made me actually do it was that I knew I had an 1/8th of a pound of pepper turkey in the fridge that needed to be used and that I’ve recently been thinking about my eating habits a lot. Drinking habits too, but that’s another post. A similar thought occurred to me this morning before I left for work: I have yogurt that is going to go bad. I’d better eat.

In the olden days when making dinner was a team effort, I knew I could get away with only doing half of the work. Either I cooked and didn’t clean, or she cooked and I cleaned. It was an equitable arrangement, and one in which I gladly participated. Screw having to cook AND clean though. I’m not into that at all. I guess that’s one barrier, but it’s pretty minor since it’s not an issue with easily prepared meals. And with cast iron. You’re not even supposed to clean that shit.

But what am I doing that’s so important that I neglect to eat? Nothing! Nothing at all! I’m not writing. I’m not posting a lot here. I’m not out taking photos. I’m just losing time into a black hole of doing stuff but not being sure about what I’m doing and then forgetting to eat. What is going on? Does anyone know? I sure as hell don’t.

Help? Does anyone want to be my nutritionist/personal chef? I can’t afford to pay you, but it’ll be real fun, I promise. I also kind of want this book: Two Dudes, One Pan.

My utterly stressful day.

I know you have all missed my banter so much while I’ve been in California, but you don’t have to long anymore now that I am back in Brooklyn. I intend to recommence posting at the same semi-regular clip I maintained in the past. That is, 15 music videos to 1 post with any content. Deal.

Anywayyyyyy, I had a super stressful day today and thought I’d share it with you. Here’s what I done.

  • I woke up, discovered a job I thought was supposed to start today got killed, and went back to sleep.
  • I woke up a second time, much later. I won’t tell you when, but Europeans would call it 14 o’clock.
  • I showered.
  • I shaved.
  • I realized I left my toothbrush and toothpaste in the shower in California, but then I found I had an extra tube of toothpaste and an extra toothbrush. Score!
  • I went to the bank and deposited a check.
  • I walked down Manhattan Avenue to Bedford to the N7th L train stop and boarded the train.
  • At Union Square I transferred to a downtown 6.
  • I got off at Spring Street, dropped off my rent check and the stupid parking ticket I got in Durango, and went into Smoke & Mirrors.
  • I met S&M’s pretty new receptionist, picked up Chip Chip, and left. Total time for that errand: 5 minutes.
  • I sauntered up Broadway since it was beautiful out and got back on the train at Union Square.
  • I got off at Beford again, walked down to get a burrito.
  • They didn’t have pork, so I got the steak. O! life’s hardships.
  • Burrito in hand, I found my spot in McCarren Park and laid in the grass for maybe an hour and a half enjoying the sun and the breeze.
  • Satiated with my burrito and entertained by the inane conversation the two teenaged girls playing badminton next to me had, I went home.
  • I played my old Gibson for a little bit.
  • I came online to download some scale tabs to practice my fingering. GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER, MISTER.
  • I reapplied for my leftover funemployment benefits. Booyah!
  • I wrote this.
  • I am going to turn on yesterday’s baseball game and play my guitar.

Isn’t my life hard? Don’t you all wish you were coming to visit me on my summer vacation? It’s so great.

Telluride Bluegrass and Country Music Festival 6/17/2010

JJ and I drove into Colorado on a semi-whim to attend this year’s Bluegrass and Country Music Festival. We arrived on the 17th (my birthday) and drove on out of there Monday the 21st. We logged 2400 miles of driving over the course of 4 days, all of which I did. It was absolutely epic.

The festival itself was totally amazing. Of course, I took photos the whole time. I only hit about 330, which is low for me, but I was doing a lot of partying and hanging out and whatever that got in the way of my efficient photo taking. Oh well. I had a blast.

On the way back, we had to take a detour around the Grand Canyon because of a fire raging outside Flagstaff. We’d seen the beginning of the fire on our way through the first time, but it has gotten so out of hand that they closed off 13 miles of highway just a few days later. Smartly, we stopped and got out to sight-see at the Grand Canyon and we lucky enough to experience it completely filled with smoke from the nearby fire at sunset. Pretty god damned awesome.

Here are a few of my favorites.

Check out the whole gallery here:

As far as thoughts on technique, I decided to shoot with only primes. Seeing these dudes walking around with their huge zooms and crap gave me a delightfully smug shudder of pleasure knowing that I was probably taking nicer looking photos than they were. But I might just be an arrogant prick. Whatevs.

My beloved 85 f/1.8 performed as amazingly as ever. The 28 f/1.8, though harder to use, worked nicely as well. But the poor 50 f/1.8 really had trouble nailing focus. Enough so that it ruined a bunch of photos that would otherwise have been just fine. Looking through the first two days of pictures today, I regretted sticking with the 50 both days because of the sheer number of just-out-of-focus photos. It made me angry. I will be purchasing the 50 f/1.4 as soon as I can not for it’s slightly faster aperture, but for its improved autofocus. I refuse to let a shoddy, cheap shit lens, ruin another photo. If my photos are going to be ruined, I want the fault to be my own.

Either way, I think there are some good photos in the set. Enjoy.

Abraham Lincoln: President. Emancipator. Beardo. Poet?

Yeah, that last one got me too, but apparently there’s a poem published in The Sangamo Journal in 1838 that is attributed to Lincoln. Wild, right? Even better is that it’s dark as hell which you know just sends me into a tizzy. Read it below.

The Suicide’s Soliloquy

Here, where the lonely hooting owl
Sends forth his midnight moans,
Fierce wolves shall o’er my carcase growl,
Or buzzards pick my bones.

No fellow-man shall learn my fate,
Or where my ashes lie;
Unless by beasts drawn round their bait,
Or by the ravens’ cry.

Yes! I’ve resolved the deed to do,
And this the place to do it:
This heart I’ll rush a dagger through,
Though I in hell should rue it!

Hell! What is hell to one like me
Who pleasures never know;
By friends consigned to misery,
By hope deserted too?

To ease me of this power to think,
That through my bosom raves,
I’ll headlong leap from hell’s high brink,
And wallow in its waves.

Though devils yell, and burning chains
May waken long regret;
Their frightful screams, and piercing pains,
Will help me to forget.

Yes! I’m prepared, through endless night,
To take that fiery berth!
Think not with tales of hell to fright
Me, who am damn’d on earth!

Sweet steel! come forth from your sheath,
And glist’ning, speak your powers;
Rip up the organs of my breath,
And draw my blood in showers!

I strike! It quivers in that heart
Which drives me to this end;
I draw and kiss the bloody dart,
My last—my only friend!

Neat! So metal.

An architectural critique of sofa forts.

I found a link to an article with architectural critiques of children’s sofa cushion forts on BoingBoing and it’s so damned funny and great I feel compelled to share with all of you. Here are a couple I thought particularly good.

At first glance the composition appears unintentional and the construction shoddy. But further investigation reveals a clear delineation between indoor/outdoor space with a design focus on protection through the use of barrier. Planes are shifted off the orthogonal to accommodate function; as a side effect it relieves inhabitants from a harsh Euclidian geometry. Grade B

Good God gentlemen, you’re a mess! You need walls, you need a roof. Get to work man! Grade: F

I know that it’s strongly reminiscent of Maddox’s critiques of children’s art, but it’s definitely more highbrow. And, really, can you ever get enough of insulting children? I don’t think so.

Check out both parts for more chuckles here:

Couch Cushion Architecture; A Critical Analysis

Couch Cushion Architecture; A Critical Analysis 2