chapters for my book

The Life And Times Of An Aging Indie Rocker (And Even More Aging Metalhead)

6. Dinosaur Jr. and Yogurt With Flax Seed Meal
in which our hero waxes nostalgic while searching for a good soluble source of fiber that's easy on his stomach.

7. I UsedTo Be Able To Take Drugs, Dammit!: Bad Brains and Lo-Dose Bayer Aspirin
in which our hero has a panic attack in a movie theater brought on by too much caffeine and finds himself in the hospital overnight.

kids in the trader joe's world

semi-sentimental story to follow: so this guy, this little man, comes into our store often. oh, we hide two stuffed lions for kids to find. he takes this very seriously and has followed me around the place mistakenly thinking i was also looking. so he came in today and for the life of him could not find either lion. he then proceeded to hound me for clues of which i had none since fuck if i knew where these lions were. all the time he's kind of flipping through this little notebook with a skull and crossbones on the cover. i jokingly ask him if he's taking notes on where he's looked already because i think it's funny to ask kids questions they really should have no business understanding. he says yes. as it should be the pad is full of what appear to be just scribbles. he goes on his way and i tell him if i stumble upon anything i'll let him know. he knows this already. so a bit later as i'm ringing up a purveyor of easy to cook mediocre food i see him trying to get my attention. i look at him, he walks up and hands me a scrap of paper. he tells me it's a map of the store. i tell him that next time he's in i'll mark on it where he might be able to find the lion. he seems pleased.

wyllt--black mat horseman

Tee Pee Records (http://teepeerecords.com/) is known mostly for it's
backward looking bands. From Witch's Sabbath riffs to Earthless's
Deep Purple/Blue Cheer blues freak outs it is easy to pigeonhole Tee
Pee as merely a purveyor of 70's leaning stoner rock. But Tee Pee
also is home to modern shoegazers Brian Jonestown Massacre and The
Warlocks. Los Angelese's Black Math Horseman
(http://teepeerecords.com/bands/black_math_horseman/index.php) live
somewhere between these two worlds while adding another few element
that actually took me by surprise: 80's goth and 90's post rock. It's
a combination that, at first, i wasn't completely sold on but, as with
the songs on Wyllt, my patience was eventually rewarded.
At first listen Wyllt may seem to be playing out in a fairly
traditional loud/quiet way, complete with chiming guitars and lumbering drums, but there are
disparate influences at work that keep you slightly off balance. You
may think you know what's coming next but often you are, at best, only half right. And what is essentially a metal record, complete with medieval imagery and song titles like
"Deerslayer" and "Torment of the Metals", at times unfolds with Slint
or Unwound type guitar play between Ian Berry and Bryan Tulao. Two
angular guitar lines work together almost by working against each
other. There are riffs, mind you, but played with a cool restraint
rather than ferocity. Add to this Sera Timm's vocals, icy and chant-like, always
hovering slightly beneath the plodding rumble. Only on the last, epic
track, "Bird of All Faith and None/Bell From Madrone" does she let forth some blood
curdling screams, making the effect all the more powerful after an
album's worth of constraint. All the while Sasha Popovic's drums rumble and gallop along as graceful as a stampeding herd of drunk elephants.
This all makes for odd, seemingly incompatible, alliances, as if the
band worshiped both at the feet of Sabbath and the Cocteau Twins. Black Math Horseman find a
way to turn it into very heavy and dark stuff. Lyrics decrying that "no one man is god's son" (Bird of All Faiths and None) and "i do not believe modern man is free" (Barren
Cause) add the final layer of gloom. Although not nearly as creepy,
Wyllt reminds me of Sunn0)))'s Dokirke, the album they recorded live at the Bergen
Cathedral in Norway with Attila Csihar of Mayhem providing vocals (operatic and disturbing to say the least). Obviously it is not as inaccessible as Sunn0))) (what is?) but the
feel, from the glacial pace and ringing guitars to the chant like
vocals and medieval imagery, makes Wyllt every bit as dark and
mysterious as Dokirke. Black Math Horseman's debut has the rare
quality of taking what seem like incompatible elements and creating
something very unique and oddly fresh. As is often the case, it just
might take a few listens to fully grasp this.

can metal police itself?

in talking it out online i came to the conclusion that, yes, it can. it's in the very nature of metal to protect and defend itself from false metal intrusions. you may remember some months back me fearing a wave of tongue in cheek retro indie rock metal. i was a'feared it was going to overshadow all the good, old style metal that is out there. i smelled pichfork championing this the way they embraced disco indie rock and all the other genre stealing indie rock acts (afro-pop i'm looking at you). now, months later i see that was not the case. early man, where are you? dead child? not a peep. metalheads are not easily fooled (except by pantera for some odd reason) and hold their metal to high and pure standards. their is not much of a "death to false indie rock" ground swell. i mean, besides by me. at least pretend to rock for fuck's sake. but death to false metal is every bit as ingrained in the culture as is, say, metal up your ass. god, i think i'm about to make a white sox fan connection here against my better judgement: being a sox fan is almost equal parts loving the sox as it is hating the cubs. much the same way, metalheads love metal almost as much as they love hating posers. it's hard to just be pro-metal without being anti-false metal. because it is never truly cool to be metal in the larger social scene. and i secretly believe metalheads like it that way. otherwise they would have let these hipster douchebags be the face of metal in order to gain acceptance. but, as far as i can tell, the shunning is complete. no more bullshit ironic faux iron maiden riffs coming from brooklyn. the one band to gain a certain amount of crossover appeal is mastodon and, well, they are fucking metal. ok, you'll argue against the sword and their wizard motifs and such. i will argue that their riffs are sweet and that metal has always had a nerdy underbelly. i still think they "get" it. they don't just ape it. the only thing that makes my argument tough is all the horrible 90's metal that clogged the airwaves and that still dominates headbangers ball. i chalk it up to 15 year old hot topic metal. look, i liked krokus for a hot second. there will always be bad music that caters to the lowest common denominator (or kids that haven't honed their musical chops yet). but, for the most part, metal denies trends. or at times can be ahead of them. or, hopefully, so far behind that it never has time to make an impact

the definition of narcissism...

...isn't spending half an hour reading your old blogs is it? because i think i just did. and if this weren't my own blog i'd think i were a pretty clever person with interesting takes on the small world i live in. i mean, that's ok, right?
here's a fear i didn't know i'd have: been real itchy the last fews days. in multiple places. you know and, really, i know it's most likely bug bites. but i've also had this mystery ache in my lower back and leg. yes, i'm talking about aches again. at least these are a new kind of ache. more flu like less atrophy related. anyways, this morning, while trying not to wake up but scratching my toe endlessly, i put two and two together and, naturally, concluded i had chicken pox. admittedly, even i thought this was humororously so "me". oh, me. still...

the gods were not amused

tried to force a little spring here with the semi-traditional cutting of the hair and shaving of the beard. some people pull out their flip flops at the first sign of the sun. i burn my underbrush. either way it is april 5th of so and i have longjohns and a quilted flannel on for my bike ride to work. good one, god. you truly are a powerful dude what with controlling the weather and such. if i may, you are also a fucking prick. have we not proven our midwestern heartiness enough? just because you can, man, doesn't mean you should. just saying...dick

keep going

i'm trying