Why "Secret" Tracks Should Just Be A Track

There is no benefit from appending a secret track to an existing one, which is not really all that secret due to the technology we have today. Hello!? Adding 7 minutes of silence doesn't make anybody wait, we can just scroll along. In fact, it only creates the following annoyances:

1. It makes the track longer to rip, which creates a needlessly larger file.
2. Having to skip every time to listen to said secret track, if it is actually interesting, is needlessly cumbersome. Exhibit confidence in your creation, not "coolness."
3. It sets up false expectations for those who see a final track is 17 minutes and think the band was brave enough to put together a brilliant and epic piece of music no radio show will ever play. Bonus! Except not.

So please, music community, just make secret tracks an extra track. If we want it, we should be able to skip to it. If you didn't make it official, it's already clear that you don't think it's all that fitting with your record, which means you already think most people will ignore it. This rant is for the ones that care. Show them you do. The ignorant won't even notice.

Dethklok Lives and Mastodon Rules

On both counts, the show was flat out fantastic. Dethklok was tight as hell, thanks partly to the click Brendan Small and Co. played to, but no credit can be taken away from the Gene "The Atomic Time Bomb" Hoglan as Mr. Small renamed him at the end of a face pummeling set of metal hilarity that was air tight. Cheers to the mighty Mastodon who played a surprisingly longer set than Dethklok, running through Crack The Skye from start to finish, taking only a two minute break before coming back for another mini set of tunes, three of which from Remission. A killer performance. If you missed this show, you are a stupid, because the experience was truly unique.

Behind both bands sat quite a large LCD screen, and both used it to its fullest extent, displaying all new visuals related to Mastodon's Crack The Skye storyline, and of course a mix of seen and unseen videos for each of Dethklok's songs. Hats off to Mastodon, coming this time around with a much more focused and developed vision for their video clips, utilizing a silent film age style, including actors, effects and make up, along with the digital art that made the special edition version of the album such a great collector's item. Dethklok's videos were both entertaining and on-point, starting off with the Metalocalypse theme, burning through a mix of Dethalbum's I and II that included Black Fire Upon Us, Duncan Hills Coffee Jingle, Murmaider and Dethsupport before finishing with Fan Song. Interludes between the band's brief breaks presented a very fun tutorial by Dethklok's mascot JawBones on moshing, and trailing Gen. Crozier's plot to eliminate all Dethklok followers, which gets thwarted in a very typically Metalocalypse fashion.

Brendan Small treated the fans to a bit of fun when he chatted with the crowd, switching from Toki to Skwisgaar to Nathan in an instant. He really seemed to enjoy New York's energy, and while Mastodon put on a jaw dropping show, the response to Dethklok was much more energetic, some in Halloween garb, including characters from Metalocalypse. Dethklok itself was dressed strictly in black to maintain emphasis on the videos. Of the rest of the players from the other bands of the night, only Brent Hinds dressed for the occasion, sporting a huge afro wig, silver pants and platform shoes. Yeah. He played with tremendous ferocity, and even attacked a crew member to the side of the stage for tuning his guitar incorrectly. All in good humor of course. All in good humor.

Them Crooked Vultures @ Roseland, NYC - October 15, 2009

Hey Guy!

I got so blasted before the show, I can only remember that it was awesome. Definitely more along the blues groove lines. RS actually has a spot-on review of the show. Check it.

The Mars Volta at Roseland - October 8th, 2009

The smartest decision this band made was to headline with no opener and play smaller venues like Roseland. Of course, they did their share of festival stops this summer, but it's clear that cozy is how these fellows prefer to feel. While I ended up missing the first half hour of what happened to be close to a 2-hour set (hey, I'm a busy New Yorker aright??), I have to say I was thrilled that the band played a set full of really key songs, even throwing in Eunuch Provocateur as a very nice surprise. It was about as true a mix of all their records you can get without harping too much on new stuff, as a lot of other bands would do. Since their actual breakup with heroine, TMV appear fully committed to providing their fans with a show they actually want to see, not just stand through for the good parts. They've also become quite keen on how long to jam before it becomes dross Syd Barrett on acid shit.

The band sounded great, and Roseland is a place where such things can happen, but unfortunately there seemed to be a lot of problems for Mr. Bixler-Zavala, whose mic was giving out on him every few minutes. On top of that, it was clear he had trouble hearing himself through the monitors, creating some moments where a misguided vocal over a perfectly executed chorus were a bit of a let down. All the same, not very much in the band's control. Sure didn't stop Cedric from weaving like a serpent, playing hacky sack with his trademark white mic, or busting out the more than occasional handstand. I can't say the energy from the rest of the band was as high, except of course for Toms Bombz Pridgin. Might have been due to this show being one of the last in a long series stretching back to June. Nonetheless, it was a good enough show considering all the factors against them, and as per usual, no encore, which I greatly respect.

Check out some fantastic pics @ brooklyn vegan.

Son Et Lumiere
Intertiac E.S.P.
Goliath
Cotopaxi
Roulette Dares
Viscera Eyes
Halo of Nembutals
Eunuch Provocateur
Ilyena
Teflon
Drunkship of Lanterns
Luciforms
The Widow
Wax Simulacra

Blue Record - Baroness

If you don't know who Baroness is at this point, you really must not be listening. Think Mastodon with a heavier country/blues vibe and vocals more mongrel, less shedding but more instrumentalism, then add a dash of shoegaze rage, and you've got the right mix for a band that's as unclassifiable and incomparable as the mighty Mastodon. Baroness write powerful, raw music with an undeniable sense of justice. It’s no surprise that their latest release, while significantly different, manages to live up to the hype magazines like Revolver helped establish by giving them record of the year for Red Album in 2007. Check out the video for Wanderlust from that one.

All that said, despite the tremendous amount of buzz this record is getting, I have to admit that it wasn't a win at first listen. Their focus this time around was to write more melodically and somewhat prettier in order to shrug off comparisons with Mastodon, and in this regard I believe they're successful, but honestly, they never needed to fight it. Neither will ever write the other's songs, and Blue Record is no Crack The Skye, as Blood Mountain is no Red Album. I missed the sonic experimentation off that earlier release and find that, while their blending of acoustic interludes among others maintain the sense of something epic, overall, their new spin detracts some from the power of their instrumentalism. And although vocalist John Baizely is certainly a unique screamer, he's not as phenomenal as a singer as he is expressive. The result is a sort of tuneful chanting that nonetheless compliments his minimalist lyrics and fantastic song titles, so I have to say that it did feel as if the band was quite happy to be making a record such as this. It has a natural touch to it.

Baizley also happens to be, in case you didn't know, the guy behind the great cover artwork for Pig Destroyer's Phantom Limb and Darkest Hour's Deliver Us, and of course the artwork for Blue Record features his signature provocative style. Check it:

Clearly he has a great appreciation for madames au naturelle. Like this piece, Blue Record is a beautiful work worth your eye and ear.

Desperate Living - Horse the Band

Out of the spectrum of bands I listen to, I must admit I have no particular reason for liking Horse the Band, other than that they are so not like anything else out there in metal and stick to their guns when it comes to their craft. If you don't happen to know, Horse the Band is jokingly self-branded as nintendo-core, the most bizarre combination of 8-bit melodies and hardcore breakdowns. Prog-rock guitars, blast beats to rim shots, an NES emulator for a keyboardist, and a vocalist who sounds like the biggest nerd from your class, except he dropped out of school cause he got really into death metal. It's these somewhat unrelated elements matched with an inherent adolescence that is the key to never having lost their activation energy and love of ADHD songwriting, skipping from odd-time into total abrasion before breaking down into atmospherics or jump-up-and-down fist-pumping four-on-the-floor disco/punk. They're insane.

You might remember them for that one tune Birdo, a moment of brilliance that was birthed at both the right and wrong time - it got them some fame but no one respected the genre. Desperate Living could describe the way they've spent most of their career since that random hit: with little label assistance and poor personal funding, they are a true DIY that thrive completely on that adolescent power, booking their own shows and calling on fans for support. I saw them open for Poison the Well, then hang out after the show asking around for a place to stay because their management was so fed up with their destructive antics, allegedly only fueled by soda and pizza. They could have just been talking shit, but I know not if they slept well that night. Now, a bit older, on a better label, they're fully armed to make this the first record that really captures them at their most advanced. Consider this the latest upgrade to their firmware.

From the start it seems as if they're more serious, but not much more mature, which feeds their fantastic character. I won't say there are any new tricks, or more original breakdowns from guitarist David Isen, but the focus is much stronger on the construction of their brand of insanity, blending riffs together with random bits that fit, despite being a complete switch, ranging from 80s new wave soundtrack moments to references from Mega Man and even a live sample from Super Mario. That sporadic and relentless energy is dually reflected in the smart and equally dynamic production and structure of songs like Golden Mummy Golden Bird and their tribute to comic book of the same name Science Police, which could easily be their next single. The lyrics are just as brash, hilarious, juvenile, sentimental and senseless as ever, with Nathan Winneke occasionally doppleganging the Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons, complimenting their sonic efforts perfectly. They're even brash enough to write a song called Horse the Song, and reference themselves as special guests Lord Gold (nickname for keyboardist Erik Engstrom) and His Purple Majesty. Don't be fooled, however - somewhere under that armor of surface idiocy is a force with heart and soul and a vast conflated metaphor about serious issues. By the time you hear special guest Jamie Stewart of Xiu Xiu sing "let's sing that crippled song together" on their single Shapeshift, you just might be moved.

I Saw Tool @ All Points West and I Liked It.

Now that you know, I might as well talk a little bit about what else I saw:

Tim & Eric @ the Queen of the Valley Tent

Oh my god. Dudes were wearing full-body suits with humongous genitalia, dancing around, talking about how their gonna bang their sisters. Perfect! How did I miss their existence?

Kool Keith @ the Bullet Stage

In the dress department, Keith was rockin some kind of Muslim headdress in white, studded with rocks, while his hype-men had acrylic superman capes around their necks. Yeah, I didn't get it, but hey - I thought they looked pretty cool. Anyway, it was more of his "I'm a gangsta now" material than any of that space-rap Black Elvis stuff. It was groovin' though.

Not groovin: The beverage situation was just not that cool. A companion of mine's license expired, which somehow disproved her age. Went to one of the designated beer gardens to pick her something up, but you're not allowed outside! I somehow did not remember this from last year. So I sat there, sipping my two beers, listening to Kool Keith from afar.

Arctic Monkeys @ the Blue Comet Stage

Boring. Got more beer.

Gogol Bordello @ the Blue Comet Stage

Can't say I'm a fan, but I headed straight for the pit and had a ton o' fun. The singer was pouring wine on the crowd and rocking out Gypsy crazy, while the violinist was laying down some serious fire. The percussionist gave the crowd crazy eyes, dancing wild with the go-go girls. It was hot!

Not hot: Lost my remaining 3 beer tabs in the pit (of which I had 7 to start with). Security guards were no help. No more beer unless I bummed a whole wristband from someone else. Right. While I appreciate that they limit the drinking to reduce douche-baggery, this was a major fail.

My Bloody Valentine @ the Blue Comet Stage

The fact that I had to stand through this for an hour to hold my spot, in the mud from the rain the night before, losing my buzz while my back burned and my feet hurt, watching some white girl do the white girl twist to this b(l)and's wall of sonic texture noise is a hatredy. I was really wishing Dethklok would just show up and each member would be claimed by death in an instant. The guitars were too loud, the bass was even louder, the drums sounded pale and I could not hear the vocals at all, which apparently is the point? I didn't even know anyone was singing until I took a look at the big screens and saw mouths moving. The worst was their simulated ten-minute explosion at the close of the show. Why?

They said punk was not music. They said metal was not music. Totally wrong. This was not music AT ALL. It was pure torture and snide mockery towards the uninitiated. Ooh, like, you're so deep, cause like, you can't even write a melody. Lame. That one of the guitarists, Kevin Shields, is from Queens explained it (note: I hail from Queens), but it certainly did not forgive it. Look, I get it, okay? I just don't care for it. If I want noise I'll put my face in front of a fan. Thank you.

The most irritating thing is that this idiot could not comprehend why every tool fan was flipping them the bird through their whole set. Said idiot would have you believe that they compare somehow in aesthetics or intent, but don't be fooled kiddies, the only point they agree to is pretentiousness, and in kind they're split by a razor's edge. There is nothing similar about the two bands from a musical standpoint, which is the only conceit to consider. Tool appreciates poignant melody and intricate song structure that develops dynamics through subtle repetition, creating shifts in emotion from brazen to beaten, or hopeful to misanthropic, within the space of one piece. Leading me now to…

Tool @ the Blue Comet Stage

As you can see from the picture, they were set in their classic formation from the left: Adam Jones, Maynard James Keenan, Danny Carey, and Justin Chancellor, against a drowning backdrop of visuals designed by Jones. True to their modest aesthetic, no band member was remarkable, except for the fact that all of them were in white, save Keenan, who was in a dark coveralls, water in a holster, his megaphone slung over his shoulder.

Of course, despite seeming to be a shadow, Keenan was quite a show, shifting his body in hieroglyphic positions during the start of Jambi, and keeping to the band's rhythm in the same manner throughout when not vocalizing. It was a treat to see him pace in a circle as he spouted the storyline of Rosetta Stone, clasping the megaphone's wired receiver and gripping his mic stand for cleaner phrases. He even took a crack at the audience about how some should not let anyone see their flesh, then wished all a good night before Tool broke into Vicarious.

The setlist* was an interesting compendium of the more sinister and brooding side of Tool, with plenty of their signature odd time riffage, best personified by the addition of Flood, which was absolutely thrilling. I had forgotten how interesting that song is, and in hearing it then, it occurred to me how much more that tune would prove to be a blueprint for Tool's more recent work than any single they're known for. Overall, the band was incredibly controlled, delivering a frighteningly even performance that contributed to their otherworldly vibe, jamming and variating here and there just to stun that much more so. Jones' visuals completed the triad of music and performance, both thoughtful and provoking, equally an interpretation of the art of Tool's sound, as are the lyrics Keenan pens. Frank Ferrar joined the troop on Lateralus with his own drumset, laid out by stagemen in lab coats. While it was great to see the drummers take turns at each other, he did not hold a flame to Carey in my opinion.

It was a great show. All that said, there was something left to be desired after having seen Radiohead last year, whose performance and visuals will probably go down in my book as the best I've ever seen. Tool's visuals were a bit predictable and repetitive - Radiohead's in comparison seemed much more directed and particular, developing logically with each song.

A much more sour note was the reaction of some of the Tool fans who actually said that the show sucked because there was no encore. It was clear they weren't going to do one, and while Keenan ducked out, Jones, Carey and Chancellor stayed out to look over the crowd and connect for ten minutes before exiting themselves. Such a complaint is flagrant and ludicrous, and, especially these days, really fucking typical. It's gotten cliché to do an encore, and everyone knows it, so much so that bands work around the idea of an encore to play however long they really want to. The last time I saw Deftones and Lamb of God they did 4-song encores. It's just not special anymore. Encores need to end or be earned, not be expected.

*Jambi

Stinkfist

46 & 2

Schism

Rosetta Stoned

Flood

Aenema

Lateralus

Vicarious

Rolling Stone Interview with Dave Mustaine

Much more gossip and talk than discussing anything musical, but just to let you know:

http://www.rollingstone.com/news/story/29426165/megadeths_dave_mustaine_talks_new_riffs_old_drama/

I'm excited for this record. Not that I expect anything phenomenal, but I'm a huge fan and just love that undeniable Megadeth sound.

The 2 Cent Switch

Killswitch Engage - Self Titled: If you like hearing the same exact material they've done since Howard Jones came aboard, by all means keep listening. I won't.

Darkest Hour - The Eternal Return: This record would be really impressive if they hadn't done three records worth already. Apt album title. Must've snatched it from Killswitch so they couldn't use it.

Get these instead, if you haven't already...

Candiria - Kiss the Lie: It's hard to come by the version of this record intended for sale since Amazon and iTunes botched the track list and duplicated one track, but I know if you pick up the vinyl you're good. Comes with an MP3 disc. This band's catalog gets more and more interesting and diverse as you go back. Definitley rubbed off on Dillinger Escape Plan.

Cynic - Traced in Air: Sick record since the last one, which was back in '93. Wow. If you've somehow never heard of 'em, just consider the fact that two members did stints in Death and Gordian Knot. SOLD!

Divine Heresy Vs. Arkaea (Or, just whose guitar is bigger? Christian's or Dino's?)

Some of you may question why I would put these two bands head to head, but the drama that Dino Cazares, Burton C. Bell, Christian Olde Wolbers and Raymond Herrera share is just about the closest thing metal has to some of those bitch fights you see on reality TV. The fact that such bitchery exists amongst these legends of metal is a complete shame, and you can read about it here, here, and here. C'mon guys, lighten up. I also want to prove that there are no real winners here, and that's musically speaking, too. Note: I will not address Ascension of the Watchers, that project is total shit.

First off, before I rip Arkaea a new asshole, I want to point out that Wolbers admitted that some of the songs on this record were Fear Factory tracks that he and Herrera were working on. Now, you can't blame the guy for making the assumption that that's what they were going to be, hell, he was the last guy to write Fear Factory songs - 2 records worth. But here is exactly where you can blame him - you don't go and start a new project, one that you claim will be for a band you 'definitely want to continue,' when a batch of the material is meant for another band from the start. That's just wrong to me. Save it for the reunion or some shit. Why?

Because you get the following problem, Christian: you wrote a couple Fear Factory songs, and you need to write more in order to make a record, and the new songs have to be consistent with that idea. So with that, you get a really repetitive record that copies riff after riff after itself, with a singer that, no matter how good he is, just does not sound right over any of them. Why? Because he's not Burton C. Bell. That's not being purist - it's just the truth. What he lacks in ability he makes up for in his characteristic approach.

I will admit this - Christian was good enough to try some of the genre mixing Fear Factory is known for, but even that said, it comes out as "oh, that's a Rush riff; oh, that's a Korn riff; oh, that totally sounds like Deftones," and the texturing he tried to apply is more accurately a handful of monochromes. You get to wonder, how much creative force belonged to whom in Fear Factory?

Then, on top of that, Jon Howard totally sounds like Chester Bennington when he's utilizing that oh-so-popular scream-singing style. Look, I'm not a fan of Linkin Park, but it sounds cool when Chester does it, sounds like crap when nearly anyone else is doing it - especially with harmony, all over overdone Fear Factory riffs. Instead of presenting a punishing mix, you get punished for nearly an hour with predictable riff patterns, random and unimaginative divergences, in addition to a painfully annoying vocal performance. Picture lonely cartoon streetcats on a fence, crooning together to the greatest hits of Fear Factory. Pitiful.

Divine Heresy I like. Check that - liked. Now, kudos to Dino for variating on his existing guitar style and riff construction in the context of technical death metal rather than chugging out more and more tired Fear Factory stuff, but this record is just not as good as it was hyped up to be. Sure, some of these songs are speedier and more intense, but no matter how fast they play it, you've heard most of this stuff before. And while Travis Neal is more bearable than Jon Howard, he also on occasion does that torturous nu-metal scream-singing. Whatever happened to a simple, clean vocal? I will say he is a decent replacement, but Tommy Vext just has more character than this guy. Not more than Bell, but there you have it.

Overall, it seemed to me like these guys were doing what they could to be bookable on a summerfest. And on top of all this, the lyrics and song titles are either stupid or totally lackluster. Beneath the Shades of Grey? Anarchaos? You've got to be kidding me.

The single thing that irritated me the most about both of these bands records, is that, when all four forces of Fear Factory worked together, you had something really innovative, with a lot of tempered dynamics. Both of these sidebands did the classic singer's tune towards the end of the record, and all it got me to think was, "why wasn't there more of this?" Not in the sense that I wanted more ballads, because they aren't even slightly moving on both counts, but in the sense that both acts seem to be missing that spirit of experimentation and adventurism. Emphasis, then, on acts.

Final thought - while I give Divine Heresy the edge for speed (Tim Yeung is inhuman), both lose in the end. Stop being selfish, guys, end the drama, and recognize that as Fear Factory you are better than the sum of your parts.

A Looking in View Looks Pretty Good

Hey Guy!

Check out the new Alice In Chains video @ www.aliceinchains.com. I think it's awesome. While the song is okay, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it sounded unbelievably true to the band's old school stuff. I almost thought it was some unreleased stuff. Big ups to Jerry Cantrell for getting this legendary band back together in the way fans always want but never seem to get. Definitely checkin this one out.

Poison the Well. The Tropic Rot.

Admittedly, I am not a big fan of hardcore. But, whether or not you are, I'd get into this band immediately. They are easily, and officially, one of the most innovative bands in music. If you checked them out more than five years ago and weren't sure about them, you need to check 'em out again. There are very few groups out there that can manage this much growth in such a short time span, but ever since You Come Before You and Versions, Poison the Well have mastered the craft of their originality with The Tropic Rot.

There's something about that very title that ties well with what the album offers: surfer rock riffs and jazz chords mixed with doom metal grooves and country/blues licks, and genres much more, all mashed up into a sharp "post" hardcore package (and I mean "post" only in the post modern sense). It's the beauty in decay that these fellows thrive on - what's been festering in them has fermented into a strong liquor for our ears. Guitarist Ryan Primack is relentless and slick, transitioning even the acoustic When You Lose I Lose As Well into a frenzy of discord, with the phenomenal Chris Hornbrook driving the pace. And vocalist Jeffrey Moreira probably does more singing than ever, his lush choir boy vocals and simple yet vivid lyrics fully matured while maintaining a punk edge.

If you got sick of hardcore because it seemed like it just didn't have any more to offer than the standard power chords and aggression, pick up this record and see how Poison the Well challenges you. These guys were done toying around back in '03. It's clear that diversity and dynamics are now their imprint.

New Megadeth Tune @ RoadRunner

Yes! It's metal! It's awesome! It's classic Megadeth!

Do what you have to do to download it now:

www.roadrunnerrecords.com

I Refused to Pay Dues

I've just gotta say it flat out - I was really disappointed by Street Sweeper Social Club.

While, at first, I was excited by the return of that Morello rap rock rhythm, the more I heard, the more it started to sound like just a bunch of classic rock riff rip offs with a boring emcee.

Sure, Tommy is basically just a blues guy with special effects and monster groove, but with no new tricks to offer, the record sounds tired to begin with. Couple that with an old school rapper and it plays out like some bad Williamsburg indie DJ's debut. Now, I must admit, maybe in another context, I'd like what Boots Riley is doing here, but I like Boots Riley in his own context. Somehow, when you get these two together, instead of capturing magic, you get nothing more than party music, where the message will probably be ignored. And I can't help but feel like someone is already way more successful with that angle. Oh, yeah. M.I.A.

If you like anything Tom does, and thought Audioslave was the shit, then go ahead and grab this. But if you're a staunch Rage fan, and think that a bunch of subpar riffs with some other guy who, despite his place in history, doesn't seem to match the lyrical and political muscle of Zack De La Rocha to pull it off, don't bother.

P.S. The cover looks so stupid.

Monuments and Melodies is kinda cool, I guess, but...

Can I just say that I am totally confused by the business model that was chosen for the record? Check it:

A 2-CD greatest hits collection.

1st CD: here are the hits you like and a few songs we just wrote that are surely not on par with our collection of hits, and which really don't make sense to include other than to promote our collection, WHICH NEEDS NO PROMO BECAUSE INCUBUS IS FUCKING HUGE.

2nd CD: a bunch of B-Sides throughout our career, which are pretty decent. Nothing daunting really, only for the super fan.

So do you see the problem with this model yet? Why would Joe Schmoe, who only likes a couple tunes, expend with his cash to buy a double disc album, half of which contains a whole disc of tunes that don't really help promote purchasing Incubus's existing catalog, and would only really appeal to Joe Schmuck, said super fan. How in the world of iTunes can this CD compete? Joe Schmoe goes online, gets the singles, the 6 or 7 he really likes, saves around 6 or 7 bucks. Super fan might spend extra dough for a bunch of songs he certainly already has to grab those rarities that, again, he probably already has as well. So, realizing this, he only buys the few tracks off iTunes he didn't happen to have, saves 6 or 7 bucks or more.

Equation: fuck over the superfan and the fair-weathers dumb enough to buy an overpriced double disc of greatest hits. But wait - that still doesn't make any sense - you're marketing to the smallest market possible. Let's also not forget that there are less people this dumb than not. The music business makes another unsellable product.

Solution: make separate CDs, one with JUST the greatest hits, NO promo tracks and have a product that actually has some integrity as a collection of great songs, a snapshot of a great band, THEN, another CD with just the rarities, assuring integrity once more while reducing the price point cheap enough to hopefully, actually sell some CDs.

Reality: SONY/EPIC doesn't give a shit, and Incubus either doesn't care, or has become completely complacent, which is probably how you should feel about their new material.

The Mars Volta Get Their Octahedron On.

I picked that from a series of crappy titles for this post. Let me share them with you. The Volta drop their Zoso. Or, get their plant and krauss on. Wait, that's retarded, and somewhat redundant. Okay, fine, they just wish you were here. Yeah, these were the good ones. I don't think I will do another silly title from this point forward. Keep an eye on me.

But you get the point, right? As always, TMV flex their mutated brand of classic/prog rock, but this time without that atypical skinny bad boy aggro routine. Once the first chord rises into being over two minutes before a somber acoustic guitar arrives to widen the shot, so to speak, you know this is not going to be the standard TMV. This is not to say that there aren't some bangers on this record, surely Cotopaxi will get your body to move, and please keep in mind that Omar's been quoted as describing Octahedron as their version of an acoustic album, but not an acoustic album per se.

So yeah, there's going to be some electro stuff here, too, but, for what it's worth, his description is accurate. The overall feel of it is eerie and desperate, with an anger much much more subtle. Pridgin definitely hangs back, proving his well-roundedness. And when you listen, while the band still plays most of the same old tricks, you must appreciate its focus on harmonic design: major/minor chord progressions, testing the threshold of key, songs that build compositionally along with sonic textures and atmosphere. (My one caveat is that, occasionally, Mr. Bixler-Z's emotive crooning and off-putting lyrics step over from brilliant to sentimental.)

Probably the most intriguing and central bit* of the record is that very first chord that lies underneath the songs, rushing one off the stage before summoning the next, like a musical usher. That chord, in a sense, ties the record together by being the liminal lattice for a handful of cuts that, stand alone, are quite separate from each other. While this chord is probably only loosely tied to the musical representation of an octahedron, it is part and parcel of a whole post-modern thematic: said octahedron appears on the cover and in the subject matter as well.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Great analysis there, pal, but what's the bottom line? Here it is: this new collection of tracks will not floor you, but they are certainly precious. If you love TMV, you will love it. If you like TMV and want more of their insanity, pick up Omar's Cryptomnesia instead. That shit is fucked up!

*This is one of the things I love about Mars Volta - you always learn about something you've never heard of, or discover something you learned about which you've completely forgot. Check out octahedron on wikipedia. Then check out cryptomnesia. Can you tell that I love wikipedia? Go donate.

Another Shameless Plug!

Boris Pelekh, the Hey Guy Beatbox, presents a video for his new EP, How To Kill Me.

This is a cover of Aaliyah's Are You That Somebody, which is a very cool tune. I'm the dude that throws him the guitar, and the dude that is holding a very small guy over my shoulders, swinging the HEY GUY! sign.



Check out Boris Pelekh's myspace here. A "gimme that dick" beatbox noted in my earlier post is coming soon. Now buy his tunes or gimme that dick.

Yeah, Dude!

Shameless Plug - Meshuggah Beat Box

Check it: Me and Boris doing a beatbox version of Meshuggah's Inside What's Within Behind, off of Destroy Erase Improve.

It's been a while, so - crazy story time!

HEY GUY!

Okay, it's been too long, and I've had subjects come, and subjects go. But let me throw you with some updates, if you give two shits and a half.

First of all, the crazy story:

Okay, so my longtime friend and roommate, Boris Pelekh, had a stint with the Naked Brothers backing band, and they (including the kids) came up with a phrase: Gimme that dick. I know, fucking hilarious. So me and Boris got really wasted at a friend's house, and while we were outside for ciggs (note: I do not smoke) we started doing a beat box/rap thing where I would variate on that phrase: gimme that dick dick dick, gimme that dick that i like, uh huh, gimme that goddamn dick, gimme that dick right there, gimme that dick right now, whatta I gotta do to get a bit of that dick, etcetera. YouTube of this will be up soon.

Another night, our friend who had been away for the last two months or so came back. So last friday night, him, Boris and his brother Leo were hanging out at Leo's place, which is in front of Tompkin Square Park.

I head down over there round midnight, and as I'm walking down the block to make the turn onto 11th Ave, I hear a huge party, louder than any of the bars, and I'm thinking, wow, I hope Boris and the guys know about this party. They're blasting Don't Stop Believin' and singing at the top of their lungs.

So I get to Leo's pad, text Boris to open the door downstairs because it gets stuck sometimes, and as I'm walking up, I realize the huge party is upstairs at Leo's. I walk in, and it's Boris, Leo, and our just arrived friend and his two crazy brothers. That's it. Louder than hell, drunk and dancing together, some of them with their cocks out. Pure genius.

Anyway, there's no more liquor in the house as soon as I get there, so we head to a bar called Odessa's. But before we do that, Boris and I unveil the gimme that dick routine. One of them says, "I haven't been around that long, but that's going to be the most genius thing I ever hear in my life." He immediatley picks it up and starts variating with me.

So me and him are out in the street with the guys screaming "You, come over here, gimme that dick dick dick dick dick." Etcetera. People in the street are totally into it. So when we make it to Odessa, we start the spiel, and continue to do it to every dude that walks in the bar. Thankfully it was a light night. Some people ignored us, others thought we were hilarious. We definitely cleared the place out a little bit either way.

So later on in the night, these two girls we know show up, and I immediately run to them and pull the gimme that dick bit better than I've ever done, and they are completely speechless. Better than that, some black hobo told us, "I knew white folks were crazy, but I never heard of this shit." He was cool.

Anyway, late late into the night, this group of Indian and Asian folks come in and sit at a table in the front; totally Americanized, and there's one white dude. New to BK, by the look. So I say to one of the crazy brothers, dude, we're taking them out. He and I head over there, and as he begins a hey-how-are-ya, I start spitting the bit. They laugh, but the white dude was being a dick. "Oh, did you come up with that yourself? Didn't get that from anywhere? Oh, that's cool. Proud of yourself?" I said "yeah dude, cheers!" and clinked his beer. The other crazy brother watched this and said, "Yo, that dude was totally being a dick to you." I knew, but I didn't want to start shit. But the crazy brothers did.

So one pulls out his balls while the other distracts them, then, as the draw steps away, the other runs in and I come in from behind screaming "gimme that goddam dick right now!" Etcetera.

Everyone laughed. But, white dude did not like that.

So he says "Oh you like dick, huh? S'at it?" I said, "yeah dude, gimme that dick right there," totally deadpan. We laugh and walk balk to the bar, letting the white dude stew.

Dude comes up to me and my friend 5 minutes later with a plastic fork and tells him to pull his balls out. We don't think he's serious so we laugh it off, but he is. I tried to pull the fork out of his hands, but no dice. I threw a middle finger in the dudes face and told him to fuck off, which just makes him madder, and my friend gets in his face. The bartender freaks out and tells them to take it outside. So white dude stepped back to the front door, keeps challenging my friend, but he keeps his cool and makes the whole bar laugh every time this guy threatens us by making fun of him.

Then, dude grabs a beer off the bar and throws it at my friend, and it explodes all over us. We hold back, but the dude went outside with one of the asian friends of his. While they're cooling out, my friends and I go apologize to the group for taking it too far, but they didn't have a problem with it at all, and kept saying they didn't know what'd gotten into their friend. It was just a joke. Then again, balls were nearly right in his face. In front of a few babes. Whose night would that not spoil?

So eventually we think he's left cause we don't seem him outside, they go for smokes, and I stay in since I still have beer and I want to make sure the bartender doesn't try to call the cops again. She doesn't, so I go outside.

The dude was there the whole time and pulled out a box cutter on my friend, and we all laughed! Then, a friend of ours in defense pulled out a knife, too! But his friend stepped in again and told him to go the fuck home, that the bartender called the cops, and they leave. Boris was high as shit and outside the whole time all of this went down, so he was completely confused. It was dangerous and hilarious at the same time.