Interweb metal mainstay (and Guitar World affiliate) MetalKult.com has seen fit to recommend that folks come out for Flaming Tusk's April 6 Precious Metal show at Lit Lounge.
Read all about it.
4.02.2009
3.22.2009
SXSW Day 4, Sat. March 21
Saturday was a much lighter day than either Thursday or Friday. I began my adventures at the Flatstock poster exhibit at the Austin Convention center where there were reams of incredibly cool concert posters on display by the artists who made them. I wasn't in a buying state of solvency, so I had to satisfy myself by taking cards and dreaming about the day Flaming Tusk or Seize Them! goes on tour and needs awesome posters for advertising and merch. Someday, someday... The work of Matt Parrillo from Monolith Press and Brian Mercer of Mercerrock were particular highlights.
Finally managed to catch up with my friend Garann at Waterloo Park for some of the day's free shows. Israel's Monotonix were crazying up the place with their garage punk chaos, which was admirably tight given the band had set up in front of the stage in the mosh pit and were frequently riding pieces of the drumkit on the upstretched arms of the crowd. I believe they claimed some kind of world record for having performed eleven shows at this one SXSW festival, but their precise meaning remained unclear due to accent thickness.
Monotonix was merely the warmup for my second Circle Jerks show of the festival, and they killed it once again. Far more stage diving at this show than the one at Emo's, and in my estimation (if this show was any indication) stage divers have suffered some serious ego inflation over the past decade or so.
I dropped in to Elysium out of curiosity about the second Japan Nite showcase. You can never be sure what you're going to get, musically, from the Japanese: wild creative experimentation and slavish imitation seem to the the two most likely options. I suppose that's true of music everywhere but somehow this polarization seems to express itself most clearly w/r/t old Nippon. Special Thanks from Aichi prefecture were taking the stage as I arrived and, sadly, they sit solidly in the latter category. Uninspired pop punk with cutesy girly vocals delivered by a lady who appeared to be about thirteen. Nothing to see here, and you've heard it all before. To their credit, the band was having a great time despite equipment problems.
For what may turn out to be the final official music event of the festival which I attend, I caught the PJ Harvey and John Parish show at Stubb's. Ms. Polly Jean is as compelling as ever. She and her band were working a WWII vibe visually, PJ in a blazing white torch singer gown and hairpiece/hat, her band in suits and fedoras. This show established a theme for me of seeing big name performers I like playing material I've never heard before, in this case cuts from the recently released "A Woman A Man Walked By". The music was still essential PJ: simple, atmospheric, idiosyncratic, primal. I very much want to hear the record, but I'm not sure an outdoor amphitheater is the right venue for this stuff. At its quieter moments, backed by banjo or ukelele played gently and mournfully, the music failed to reach the back half of the crowd or touch the louts who'd rather shout drunkenly to each other about air mattresses and "dry showers". An intimate club, small enough for the bigger moments to frighten you slightly, would be ideal.
The show was over too soon, the clock forcing the band to make way for The Indigo Girls and, later and most unfortunately, Third Eye Blind.
Sunday is likely to see me drinking in more of Austin, TX than can be had by wandering East Sixth Street and vicinity so this is likely my last South By Southwest post. If the stars align, the next time I'm here I'll be playing with one of my bands. Or, at least, I'll bring somebody with me to augment my mediocre networking skills (though, on that tip, I did manage to give CDs to quite a few band members... here's hoping they don't lose them). Until next time.
Finally managed to catch up with my friend Garann at Waterloo Park for some of the day's free shows. Israel's Monotonix were crazying up the place with their garage punk chaos, which was admirably tight given the band had set up in front of the stage in the mosh pit and were frequently riding pieces of the drumkit on the upstretched arms of the crowd. I believe they claimed some kind of world record for having performed eleven shows at this one SXSW festival, but their precise meaning remained unclear due to accent thickness.
Monotonix was merely the warmup for my second Circle Jerks show of the festival, and they killed it once again. Far more stage diving at this show than the one at Emo's, and in my estimation (if this show was any indication) stage divers have suffered some serious ego inflation over the past decade or so.
I dropped in to Elysium out of curiosity about the second Japan Nite showcase. You can never be sure what you're going to get, musically, from the Japanese: wild creative experimentation and slavish imitation seem to the the two most likely options. I suppose that's true of music everywhere but somehow this polarization seems to express itself most clearly w/r/t old Nippon. Special Thanks from Aichi prefecture were taking the stage as I arrived and, sadly, they sit solidly in the latter category. Uninspired pop punk with cutesy girly vocals delivered by a lady who appeared to be about thirteen. Nothing to see here, and you've heard it all before. To their credit, the band was having a great time despite equipment problems.
For what may turn out to be the final official music event of the festival which I attend, I caught the PJ Harvey and John Parish show at Stubb's. Ms. Polly Jean is as compelling as ever. She and her band were working a WWII vibe visually, PJ in a blazing white torch singer gown and hairpiece/hat, her band in suits and fedoras. This show established a theme for me of seeing big name performers I like playing material I've never heard before, in this case cuts from the recently released "A Woman A Man Walked By". The music was still essential PJ: simple, atmospheric, idiosyncratic, primal. I very much want to hear the record, but I'm not sure an outdoor amphitheater is the right venue for this stuff. At its quieter moments, backed by banjo or ukelele played gently and mournfully, the music failed to reach the back half of the crowd or touch the louts who'd rather shout drunkenly to each other about air mattresses and "dry showers". An intimate club, small enough for the bigger moments to frighten you slightly, would be ideal.
The show was over too soon, the clock forcing the band to make way for The Indigo Girls and, later and most unfortunately, Third Eye Blind.
Sunday is likely to see me drinking in more of Austin, TX than can be had by wandering East Sixth Street and vicinity so this is likely my last South By Southwest post. If the stars align, the next time I'm here I'll be playing with one of my bands. Or, at least, I'll bring somebody with me to augment my mediocre networking skills (though, on that tip, I did manage to give CDs to quite a few band members... here's hoping they don't lose them). Until next time.
3.21.2009
SXSW Day 3, Fri. March 20
The vernal equinox ensured that today's festival doings would receive equal amounts of daylight and darkness. I got into town early (meaning, 2PM) because there were Things To Do!
First off, I sat in on a demo listening session at the convention center. The panelists were four producers in various genres, and they were pulling submitted CDs out of a bin and listening to the first verse and first chorus of the songs their supplicants wished them to judge. Despite frequent caveats of "we don't know anything!", the panel generally proceeded by explaining what would make the song in question blow up huge on the radio, or why it never would. Afterward the producers made themselves available for meeting and greeting, so I took the opportunity to press the Flaming Tusk EP on Don DeBiase, the one guy who seemed amenable to metal. He seemed very excited to get it.
I discovered via SMS that The Onion were presenting a showcase at Radio Room featuring Ra Ra Riot. I really liked their self-titled 2007 EP and I wasn't sure I'd make it to their 1AM show, so this was serendipitous. I probably missed half of their short set due to the length of the line (in the afternoons, one's badge counts for naught. you wait with the rest of the peons), but what I saw was as lush and danceable as their record, with the added perk of seeing all six folks including the cellist and violinist bop around enjoying themselves. They also drew one of the most tightly packed crowds I'd been in since the beginning of SXSW.
I stuck around to catch ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead, who I'm not terribly familiar with but thought might be interesting. They definitely brought the fire with a rave-up apocalyptic groove. I'm not convinced the second drum kit was necessary, but it at least looked cool to have two drummers set up face to face mirroring each other's slammings. The crowd was singing along and trying to avoid the drumsticks and water bottles being thrown from the stage.
The first show on my To See list for the day was Brooklyn metal act TOMBS at Room 710. Brutal blackened post-hardcore (you realize I'm just inventing genre names, right?). I was jealous of their sonic intensity. Crazy psychedelic washes of noise backed by blastbeats and bass chords. The guys look like they will kick your ass, but I spoke to guitarist Mike Hill for a bit after the show and he was happy to meet a fellow metaller from NYC. He took a copy of the Flaming Tusk EP with enthusiasm and I told him I'd do my best to catch their next NYC show on April 12th at Public Assembly (with Ghengis Tron, Black Anvil and Wetnurse).
The Southern Lord Recordings showcase at Emo's Annex kicked off with Thou from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. They were decent enough doom metal, but the show felt a touch flat and uninspired. Their vocalist would do well to work a couple of variations on his stock scream into the act.
Next onstage was Eagle Twin from Salt Lake City. They were another octave-dropped guitar and drums two-piece and it's possible my feelings about them were clouded by how much I liked Jucifer two days before. I was mildly disinterested until, perhaps ironically, they got to their more minimal material about halfway through their set. Eagle Twin have some good ideas but they might do better with a wider sonic palette. The guitar tone was impressively huge, though.
I ducked out of Southern Lord's show in order to catch Texas black metallers Absu at Spiro's Amphitheater. Absu black-metalled so hard that they evilled a hole into their snare drum. Fortunately some dark angel lent them another one. They're not so black metal that the drummer/lead vocalist is above cracking jokes in his death growl voice. The crowd was very pumped up, abetted by Captain Morgan and his wenches handing out free rum shots and branded swag.
The highlight of my evening was seeing Rwake at Red 7. They completely destroyed the room with their Arkansas-bred intensity. It was the first show of the night that had me headbanging and holding up invisible orbs. The stage was full of people who looked like they were just this side of becoming toothless meth addicts, but for their decision to crush metal riffs. I really wish their set had been longer, but such are showcases. I had the chance to speak to lead vocalist CT for a bit after the show as he was selling Rwake merch and he accepted my offer of the Flaming Tusk EP enthusiastically. He also mentioned that he was looking for another band to fill out a bill in Brooklyn that one of his friend's bands is playing, so here's some crossed fingers that CT doesn't lose the disc and likes it.
I returned to the Southern Lord showcase and missed the beginning of Wolves In The Throne Room's set, but what I did see was great. Lit only by two candelabras flanking the stage, WITTR poured out a tarry black torrent onto the crowd. Atmospheric and harsh, but never without a keen sense of droning melody, like a clawed hand reaching up to scratch the stars from the sky. The band plays like you just might never hear anything again once they're through with you, and you have little choice but to submit to the crush.
Finally, Pelican. Chicago's instru-metallists. They seemed pretty psyched about having just signed to Southern Lord, and they played some tracks from their forthcoming EP. They were high-energy, heavy, stony, doomy... Southern-Lordy. I'd definitely see them again.
And that was day three! Lots of good shows, and hopefully effecting pressings of the flesh. Will I survive Day Four? Tune in tomorrow to find out.
First off, I sat in on a demo listening session at the convention center. The panelists were four producers in various genres, and they were pulling submitted CDs out of a bin and listening to the first verse and first chorus of the songs their supplicants wished them to judge. Despite frequent caveats of "we don't know anything!", the panel generally proceeded by explaining what would make the song in question blow up huge on the radio, or why it never would. Afterward the producers made themselves available for meeting and greeting, so I took the opportunity to press the Flaming Tusk EP on Don DeBiase, the one guy who seemed amenable to metal. He seemed very excited to get it.
I discovered via SMS that The Onion were presenting a showcase at Radio Room featuring Ra Ra Riot. I really liked their self-titled 2007 EP and I wasn't sure I'd make it to their 1AM show, so this was serendipitous. I probably missed half of their short set due to the length of the line (in the afternoons, one's badge counts for naught. you wait with the rest of the peons), but what I saw was as lush and danceable as their record, with the added perk of seeing all six folks including the cellist and violinist bop around enjoying themselves. They also drew one of the most tightly packed crowds I'd been in since the beginning of SXSW.
I stuck around to catch ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead, who I'm not terribly familiar with but thought might be interesting. They definitely brought the fire with a rave-up apocalyptic groove. I'm not convinced the second drum kit was necessary, but it at least looked cool to have two drummers set up face to face mirroring each other's slammings. The crowd was singing along and trying to avoid the drumsticks and water bottles being thrown from the stage.
The first show on my To See list for the day was Brooklyn metal act TOMBS at Room 710. Brutal blackened post-hardcore (you realize I'm just inventing genre names, right?). I was jealous of their sonic intensity. Crazy psychedelic washes of noise backed by blastbeats and bass chords. The guys look like they will kick your ass, but I spoke to guitarist Mike Hill for a bit after the show and he was happy to meet a fellow metaller from NYC. He took a copy of the Flaming Tusk EP with enthusiasm and I told him I'd do my best to catch their next NYC show on April 12th at Public Assembly (with Ghengis Tron, Black Anvil and Wetnurse).
The Southern Lord Recordings showcase at Emo's Annex kicked off with Thou from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. They were decent enough doom metal, but the show felt a touch flat and uninspired. Their vocalist would do well to work a couple of variations on his stock scream into the act.
Next onstage was Eagle Twin from Salt Lake City. They were another octave-dropped guitar and drums two-piece and it's possible my feelings about them were clouded by how much I liked Jucifer two days before. I was mildly disinterested until, perhaps ironically, they got to their more minimal material about halfway through their set. Eagle Twin have some good ideas but they might do better with a wider sonic palette. The guitar tone was impressively huge, though.
I ducked out of Southern Lord's show in order to catch Texas black metallers Absu at Spiro's Amphitheater. Absu black-metalled so hard that they evilled a hole into their snare drum. Fortunately some dark angel lent them another one. They're not so black metal that the drummer/lead vocalist is above cracking jokes in his death growl voice. The crowd was very pumped up, abetted by Captain Morgan and his wenches handing out free rum shots and branded swag.
The highlight of my evening was seeing Rwake at Red 7. They completely destroyed the room with their Arkansas-bred intensity. It was the first show of the night that had me headbanging and holding up invisible orbs. The stage was full of people who looked like they were just this side of becoming toothless meth addicts, but for their decision to crush metal riffs. I really wish their set had been longer, but such are showcases. I had the chance to speak to lead vocalist CT for a bit after the show as he was selling Rwake merch and he accepted my offer of the Flaming Tusk EP enthusiastically. He also mentioned that he was looking for another band to fill out a bill in Brooklyn that one of his friend's bands is playing, so here's some crossed fingers that CT doesn't lose the disc and likes it.
I returned to the Southern Lord showcase and missed the beginning of Wolves In The Throne Room's set, but what I did see was great. Lit only by two candelabras flanking the stage, WITTR poured out a tarry black torrent onto the crowd. Atmospheric and harsh, but never without a keen sense of droning melody, like a clawed hand reaching up to scratch the stars from the sky. The band plays like you just might never hear anything again once they're through with you, and you have little choice but to submit to the crush.
Finally, Pelican. Chicago's instru-metallists. They seemed pretty psyched about having just signed to Southern Lord, and they played some tracks from their forthcoming EP. They were high-energy, heavy, stony, doomy... Southern-Lordy. I'd definitely see them again.
And that was day three! Lots of good shows, and hopefully effecting pressings of the flesh. Will I survive Day Four? Tune in tomorrow to find out.
3.20.2009
SXSW Day 2, Thurs. March 19
I got a pretty late start after adjusting to this whole idea of "there are things that you want to do happening all day and all night", but I wound up at the tail end of the Kerrang!/Guitar Hero party at Wave. It was, theoretically, invite-only, but I wasn't hassled at the door for being a badge-wielding gate crasher so I suppose they must have been nearly out of free booze.
Attack! Attack! from the UK were playing, and while the ample pogoing happening onstage indicated the band was having a great time I was distinctly underwhelmed by their nümetal-cum-metalcore schlock. It managed to sound overproduced even live. This is what you think is rad enough to import from overseas, Kerrang!?
On the sun-dappled front porch of Beer Land Texas I found The Fresh & Onlys from San Francisco flailing out their energetic, rave-up garage rock. Lots of fun. They, like quite a few other bands I've seen so far, were afflicted with PA problems, but once power was restored they brought back the rock, and it was good.
I followed a stiltwalker down the street to Headhunters and stumbled upon Austin's own Meganaut. They've got the self-promotion angle locked down. The dudes were delivering heavy party rock that in its weaker moments drifted toward hair band territory, but it was saved by the reassuringly beardy, bluesy vocals. Not sure I'd seek these guys out again, but if they're playing the bar you're drinking in you'll likely be satisfied.
Today's theme was seeing bands from New York City, and I started off by checking out the Tee Pee Records showcase at Room 710 to catch Kreisor. They're a big-riff three piece who were playing heavy rock with a strong 70s-via-retro-90s vibe. Sadly, they seemed to fall a bit short of the mark. The guitar solos were simultaneously wanky and simplistic, the bassist dropped the ball on the backing vocals, and I left after three songs.
For the remainder of the night I parked myself at The Ale House for the The End Records showcase. This was a good choice. I only caught the tail end of Junius' last song, but I liked what I heard. Next up was Brooklyn's Hull. I'd wanted to see these guys for a while, and I guess it took flying all the way to Austin to do it. Nevertheless, Hull blasted out a toppling wall of stoner-flavored sludge that got everyone in the club fired up. Lots of hair in faces. Nice guys, too. I spoke to Carmine, one of Hull's three guitarists, for a little while after the show about NYC metal and promised I'd come see them again when they played back home.
Next up was These Are They from Chicago. Their vocalist claimed that we were witnessing their first live show, but if he hadn't tipped us off there would have been no way to tell. Very tight, if perhaps only medium-technical death metal. The bassist and rhythm guitarist were headbanging along and tossing their blondeness all over the place, but the vocalist and lead guitarist could stand to amp up their stage presence at tad.
Back to the New Yorkers: Goes Cube shook the Ale House with very heavy post-punky spacerockmetal. Very full sound for a three-piece band. The guitarist was the first band member of the evening to fulfill the punk tradition of coming off the stage to play in the audience. The club got progressively more crowded as Goes Cube's show brought people in off the street, so they're doing something right.
Chicago's Tub Ring are not only a band, they're their own mosh pit. In any given song it's a tossup as to whether the keyboardist / maraca juggler / backing vocalist will spend more time playing or standing on his instruments. They're impossible to classify musically. I heard everything from electro-klezmer to extreme noise terror, all of it heavy, unrelenting and turned to eleven. Their breathless live show is a great rock and roll spectacle, but it's hard to tell how their sound(s) might translate to a record. Super nuts, but they got the girls dancing so what more can you really ask for?
If you're into thrash, Early Man sure are a thrash band. Flying V guitars chugging away at high speed on the 6 string, ripping riff after riff. That said, it's thrash. If you're looking for anything else, you're out of luck. Early Man are singular in purpose.
Day three beckons. Last night I swapped sleeping orientation on the couch to balance out my musculoskeletal stresses. One must pace one's self
Attack! Attack! from the UK were playing, and while the ample pogoing happening onstage indicated the band was having a great time I was distinctly underwhelmed by their nümetal-cum-metalcore schlock. It managed to sound overproduced even live. This is what you think is rad enough to import from overseas, Kerrang!?
On the sun-dappled front porch of Beer Land Texas I found The Fresh & Onlys from San Francisco flailing out their energetic, rave-up garage rock. Lots of fun. They, like quite a few other bands I've seen so far, were afflicted with PA problems, but once power was restored they brought back the rock, and it was good.
I followed a stiltwalker down the street to Headhunters and stumbled upon Austin's own Meganaut. They've got the self-promotion angle locked down. The dudes were delivering heavy party rock that in its weaker moments drifted toward hair band territory, but it was saved by the reassuringly beardy, bluesy vocals. Not sure I'd seek these guys out again, but if they're playing the bar you're drinking in you'll likely be satisfied.
Today's theme was seeing bands from New York City, and I started off by checking out the Tee Pee Records showcase at Room 710 to catch Kreisor. They're a big-riff three piece who were playing heavy rock with a strong 70s-via-retro-90s vibe. Sadly, they seemed to fall a bit short of the mark. The guitar solos were simultaneously wanky and simplistic, the bassist dropped the ball on the backing vocals, and I left after three songs.
For the remainder of the night I parked myself at The Ale House for the The End Records showcase. This was a good choice. I only caught the tail end of Junius' last song, but I liked what I heard. Next up was Brooklyn's Hull. I'd wanted to see these guys for a while, and I guess it took flying all the way to Austin to do it. Nevertheless, Hull blasted out a toppling wall of stoner-flavored sludge that got everyone in the club fired up. Lots of hair in faces. Nice guys, too. I spoke to Carmine, one of Hull's three guitarists, for a little while after the show about NYC metal and promised I'd come see them again when they played back home.
Next up was These Are They from Chicago. Their vocalist claimed that we were witnessing their first live show, but if he hadn't tipped us off there would have been no way to tell. Very tight, if perhaps only medium-technical death metal. The bassist and rhythm guitarist were headbanging along and tossing their blondeness all over the place, but the vocalist and lead guitarist could stand to amp up their stage presence at tad.
Back to the New Yorkers: Goes Cube shook the Ale House with very heavy post-punky spacerockmetal. Very full sound for a three-piece band. The guitarist was the first band member of the evening to fulfill the punk tradition of coming off the stage to play in the audience. The club got progressively more crowded as Goes Cube's show brought people in off the street, so they're doing something right.
Chicago's Tub Ring are not only a band, they're their own mosh pit. In any given song it's a tossup as to whether the keyboardist / maraca juggler / backing vocalist will spend more time playing or standing on his instruments. They're impossible to classify musically. I heard everything from electro-klezmer to extreme noise terror, all of it heavy, unrelenting and turned to eleven. Their breathless live show is a great rock and roll spectacle, but it's hard to tell how their sound(s) might translate to a record. Super nuts, but they got the girls dancing so what more can you really ask for?
If you're into thrash, Early Man sure are a thrash band. Flying V guitars chugging away at high speed on the 6 string, ripping riff after riff. That said, it's thrash. If you're looking for anything else, you're out of luck. Early Man are singular in purpose.
Day three beckons. Last night I swapped sleeping orientation on the couch to balance out my musculoskeletal stresses. One must pace one's self
3.19.2009
SXSW Day 1, Wed. March 18
As with all conferences, I assume, the whole adventure begins at Registration where you hope your hefty fee will actually result in receiving the magical badge which grants access to everything you want to see. I must have gotten there at prime time (about a half hour after registration opened), as there wasn't much of a line after I finished up.
Wandered through the trade show, but wasn't terribly tempted by any of the vendors. I must have missed all the best free swag.
Afterward I wandered around Austin's 6th St., drinking in the festive chaos. I've never been to Austin before, so to me it looked like all the bars in the city must occupy this one five-block stretch. I am assured that this is not the case.
The first bit of live music I took in was the final two songs of Roman Candle's set at Troubador. They're a rocking five-piece from Nashville by way of North Carolina. They were having a great time and I'll have to make sure to check out more of their music.
Next up I drifted over to the outdoor stage set up in the parking lot at 7th St. and Neches. Austin's Snake Skin Prison were setting up, and their start got delayed by generator problems which left the PA unpowered. To kill time, their bassist went on an effects-heavy hard rock jam excursion to the delight of more or less no one. Once the PA finally kicked in, the band had started up a hard rock cover of Robert Johnson's "Crossroads" which was pretty uninspired. They got around to some originals afterward, which were built around hamfisted weaksauce wankery and embarassingly stupid lyrics. They appeared to have some local fans, though.
I saw The Van Pelt from NYC on the schedule and the name rang a bell from my indie/hardcore/emo friends listening habits back in the 90s, so I caught the final two songs of their set. They sounded really rich and full, despite having broken up in 1997. The crowd was very enthusiastic, continually calling for "one more". Might not be a bad idea for these guys to keep on going.
Finally 8:00 rolled around and it was time for the first show on my To See list: Jucifer on the Emo's Annex stage. I didn't really know anything about them ahead of time and was very pleasantly surprised to discover that they rocked my face right off. Guitarist Amber Valentine (really? "Amber"? in a band that sounds like this?) generates a huge, crushing octave-dropped tone through a wall of bass cabinets AND handles the light show with a bunch of foot pedals. Musically, I could only come up with "crazy powerstoner doomthrash" as a descriptor. They're a two-piece, in the vein of Hella or Lightning Bolt, but apparently Jucifer predates both of them and I have to say I find Jucifer much more interesting. They played with total passion, the drummer hidden behind a wall of fog and grinning like a loon as he smacked the hi-hat with his foot. Go see these guys. They're nominally from Athens, GA, but I talked to Amber after the show and she clarified that they "haven't really lived anywhere for eight years".
Next up was a portion of the Texas Hardcore showcase at Red 7, and I caught Hatred Surge play their short set. They played with admirable passion and intensity, but ultimately the music was, well, hardcore. Which is to say: fast, chaotic and indistinct. The crowd dug it, and the crowd looked very much like hardcore crowds always have. 'X' tattoos, Xs on hands in thick black marker, and one kid actually wearing a JUDGE t-shirt. The venue did have a vendor of shirts and 7-inches, which felt appropriate.
Back over to Emo's Annex (which, by the way, is merely a tent in a parking lot) to see Valient Thorr. I'd been warned ahead of time that they were, well, questionable, and my warning was correct. While they have a highly energetic stage presence, musically they're hair rock in denim vests. Metal fans be warned. I ditched 'em after two songs and wandered over to see...
The Circle Jerks! The badge-holder line was long, long enough that the guys behind me from Time Magazine and Spin decided to give up. But I did make it in, and I saw what I'd estimate to be half of their set. I must say, they were killing it up there. Despite age and the bald patches mixed with dreadlocks on the vocalist's head, the band ripped it up. Plenty of offering the mic into the crowd for shout-along lyrics, as at any good punk show. The guitarist bounced all over the stage, and the crowd clearly felt the Circle Jerks still rage after all these years.
Finally, to round out the evening I caught The Decemberists at Stubb's. They were playing the entirety of their new album, Hazards of Love, which was interesting for me as this was the first time I'd ever seen The Decemberists despite being a fan. A friend of mine had expressed some negativity about the leaked copy of HoL he'd heard, but I think it hung together pretty well as a performance piece. My verdict is still out on the album, as I haven't listened to it yet. I'm sure as with most Decemberists stuff, I'll start out mildly indifferent and wind up enjoying it greatly. The band was clearly having a great time, and Colin Meloy rocked out quite a bit more than I would have imagined.
And that was my day one! I retired to my accommodations with aching feet in anticipation of Day Two. Stay tuned.
Wandered through the trade show, but wasn't terribly tempted by any of the vendors. I must have missed all the best free swag.
Afterward I wandered around Austin's 6th St., drinking in the festive chaos. I've never been to Austin before, so to me it looked like all the bars in the city must occupy this one five-block stretch. I am assured that this is not the case.
The first bit of live music I took in was the final two songs of Roman Candle's set at Troubador. They're a rocking five-piece from Nashville by way of North Carolina. They were having a great time and I'll have to make sure to check out more of their music.
Next up I drifted over to the outdoor stage set up in the parking lot at 7th St. and Neches. Austin's Snake Skin Prison were setting up, and their start got delayed by generator problems which left the PA unpowered. To kill time, their bassist went on an effects-heavy hard rock jam excursion to the delight of more or less no one. Once the PA finally kicked in, the band had started up a hard rock cover of Robert Johnson's "Crossroads" which was pretty uninspired. They got around to some originals afterward, which were built around hamfisted weaksauce wankery and embarassingly stupid lyrics. They appeared to have some local fans, though.
I saw The Van Pelt from NYC on the schedule and the name rang a bell from my indie/hardcore/emo friends listening habits back in the 90s, so I caught the final two songs of their set. They sounded really rich and full, despite having broken up in 1997. The crowd was very enthusiastic, continually calling for "one more". Might not be a bad idea for these guys to keep on going.
Finally 8:00 rolled around and it was time for the first show on my To See list: Jucifer on the Emo's Annex stage. I didn't really know anything about them ahead of time and was very pleasantly surprised to discover that they rocked my face right off. Guitarist Amber Valentine (really? "Amber"? in a band that sounds like this?) generates a huge, crushing octave-dropped tone through a wall of bass cabinets AND handles the light show with a bunch of foot pedals. Musically, I could only come up with "crazy powerstoner doomthrash" as a descriptor. They're a two-piece, in the vein of Hella or Lightning Bolt, but apparently Jucifer predates both of them and I have to say I find Jucifer much more interesting. They played with total passion, the drummer hidden behind a wall of fog and grinning like a loon as he smacked the hi-hat with his foot. Go see these guys. They're nominally from Athens, GA, but I talked to Amber after the show and she clarified that they "haven't really lived anywhere for eight years".
Next up was a portion of the Texas Hardcore showcase at Red 7, and I caught Hatred Surge play their short set. They played with admirable passion and intensity, but ultimately the music was, well, hardcore. Which is to say: fast, chaotic and indistinct. The crowd dug it, and the crowd looked very much like hardcore crowds always have. 'X' tattoos, Xs on hands in thick black marker, and one kid actually wearing a JUDGE t-shirt. The venue did have a vendor of shirts and 7-inches, which felt appropriate.
Back over to Emo's Annex (which, by the way, is merely a tent in a parking lot) to see Valient Thorr. I'd been warned ahead of time that they were, well, questionable, and my warning was correct. While they have a highly energetic stage presence, musically they're hair rock in denim vests. Metal fans be warned. I ditched 'em after two songs and wandered over to see...
The Circle Jerks! The badge-holder line was long, long enough that the guys behind me from Time Magazine and Spin decided to give up. But I did make it in, and I saw what I'd estimate to be half of their set. I must say, they were killing it up there. Despite age and the bald patches mixed with dreadlocks on the vocalist's head, the band ripped it up. Plenty of offering the mic into the crowd for shout-along lyrics, as at any good punk show. The guitarist bounced all over the stage, and the crowd clearly felt the Circle Jerks still rage after all these years.
Finally, to round out the evening I caught The Decemberists at Stubb's. They were playing the entirety of their new album, Hazards of Love, which was interesting for me as this was the first time I'd ever seen The Decemberists despite being a fan. A friend of mine had expressed some negativity about the leaked copy of HoL he'd heard, but I think it hung together pretty well as a performance piece. My verdict is still out on the album, as I haven't listened to it yet. I'm sure as with most Decemberists stuff, I'll start out mildly indifferent and wind up enjoying it greatly. The band was clearly having a great time, and Colin Meloy rocked out quite a bit more than I would have imagined.
And that was my day one! I retired to my accommodations with aching feet in anticipation of Day Two. Stay tuned.
3.13.2009
FLAMING TUSK IN PRINT
Photographic proof of the "Abigail" review printed in the April, 2009 issue of Decibel magazine. Page 88.
3.03.2009
"Abigail" in Decibel Magazine
Decibel magazine's Cosmo Lee (also of metal mp3 blog Invisible Oranges, Stylus, PopMatters, and Pitchfork ) wrote a brief blurb about the Abigail EP on the Throw Me A Frickin' Bone page of the April '09 issue. Here, reproduced in its entirety:
Astoria's Flaming Tusk wins the odd bird award here. I have no idea what to call this. You Fail Me-era Converge, but sludgier, proggier and with black metal rasps? It's messy, but melodic and strangely compelling. You can download it for free at the band's site. Try or die!
TRY OR DIE.
Go buy every single copy of this issue you can find.
2.10.2009
kill the undead
I am tired of zombies.
No, fortunately, I am not besieged by walking corpses (anymore), but I have reached and breached my saturation point with the resurgence of the zombie in popular culture. That I have just learned about the existence of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is partly responsible for this, but the feeling has been growing for some time.
Now, that book may be hilariously awesome and my criticism isn't directly aimed at it. But reading the title did force my brain to state, unequivocally, that no, everything is not better with zombies in it. As I'm one of the subliterate few who've never actually read Pride and Prejudice, I grant that it's entirely likely that it IS better with zombies in it, but I try to make a point of not allowing contradictory specificities to get in the way of a good sweeping generalization.
I understand the horrible appeal of the zombie. What is more frightening than a mindless, inexorable killing machine which goes beyond mere murder and threatens to turn the victim into another rotting, ravenous abomination? Creepy. The enemy that can't be reasoned with, threatened, or even defeated. Certain death. Scary stuff.
I also understand the usefulness of the zombie as a blank slate for cultural commentary. First, the zombies were the Communists, coming to enslave us all into their hive-mind, arms outstretched, desirous of devouring our free, capitalist individuality. Then the post-modernists had their way with the trope and the zombie became, ha ha! reversal!, the very television-saturated, consumerist breathwasters who epitomize the American Way. As they say on The Internet, I see what you did there. Ultimately the zombie can stand in for any enemy which cannot be understood or communicated with and which seeks nothing but our total destruction.
My nascent rejectionism has nothing to do with that, though. Mythical monsters are only useful as commentary on our fellow humans after all.
It's the sheer, ever increasing volume of zombie-related material. Why does the world need even one more zombie story? Is the next zombie movie going to be somehow scarier, or funnier, or more clever than the scores which have come before? Isn't it telling that the most major innovation in recent zombie history is depicting them as fast runners instead of foot-dragging lurchers? Is this all we've got?
The modern cultural consumer is well known to want "the same, but different" across all media and all genres. I suppose I can't fault our pop artisans for putting food on the table by giving the audience what it desires. But I, I am tired of it, in the same way I've long been tired of cop/doctor/lawyer/family drama TV shows.
The undead are over, and I'm signing the Do Not Resuscitate order.
No, fortunately, I am not besieged by walking corpses (anymore), but I have reached and breached my saturation point with the resurgence of the zombie in popular culture. That I have just learned about the existence of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is partly responsible for this, but the feeling has been growing for some time.
Now, that book may be hilariously awesome and my criticism isn't directly aimed at it. But reading the title did force my brain to state, unequivocally, that no, everything is not better with zombies in it. As I'm one of the subliterate few who've never actually read Pride and Prejudice, I grant that it's entirely likely that it IS better with zombies in it, but I try to make a point of not allowing contradictory specificities to get in the way of a good sweeping generalization.
I understand the horrible appeal of the zombie. What is more frightening than a mindless, inexorable killing machine which goes beyond mere murder and threatens to turn the victim into another rotting, ravenous abomination? Creepy. The enemy that can't be reasoned with, threatened, or even defeated. Certain death. Scary stuff.
I also understand the usefulness of the zombie as a blank slate for cultural commentary. First, the zombies were the Communists, coming to enslave us all into their hive-mind, arms outstretched, desirous of devouring our free, capitalist individuality. Then the post-modernists had their way with the trope and the zombie became, ha ha! reversal!, the very television-saturated, consumerist breathwasters who epitomize the American Way. As they say on The Internet, I see what you did there. Ultimately the zombie can stand in for any enemy which cannot be understood or communicated with and which seeks nothing but our total destruction.
My nascent rejectionism has nothing to do with that, though. Mythical monsters are only useful as commentary on our fellow humans after all.
It's the sheer, ever increasing volume of zombie-related material. Why does the world need even one more zombie story? Is the next zombie movie going to be somehow scarier, or funnier, or more clever than the scores which have come before? Isn't it telling that the most major innovation in recent zombie history is depicting them as fast runners instead of foot-dragging lurchers? Is this all we've got?
The modern cultural consumer is well known to want "the same, but different" across all media and all genres. I suppose I can't fault our pop artisans for putting food on the table by giving the audience what it desires. But I, I am tired of it, in the same way I've long been tired of cop/doctor/lawyer/family drama TV shows.
The undead are over, and I'm signing the Do Not Resuscitate order.
1.24.2009
stagnation?
Several of the voices in my head have been complaining that all I ever post about in this space these days is Flaming Tusk (next show Feb. 9 at Lit Lounge). This imaginary criticism is, I suppose, accurate.
To be fair, the Tusk and Seize Them! have been, together, almost the entirety of my creative output over the last several months. My "job" has been pretty slack since late December, so I don't even have any fun anecdotes about famous people or Cinematic Excess. The idea of writing something tickles my brain, but I still suffer from my chronic problem of lacking a story idea compelling enough to get me typing. Last night I even considered writing Doctor Who episodes but where, I must ask, is the line between writing "on spec" and writing "fan fiction"? As I lack any contacts or credibility with the BBC I fear any efforts on my part would fall into the latter category.
Rest assured, Internet, that as soon as I do or think something interesting you'll be the first to know.
To be fair, the Tusk and Seize Them! have been, together, almost the entirety of my creative output over the last several months. My "job" has been pretty slack since late December, so I don't even have any fun anecdotes about famous people or Cinematic Excess. The idea of writing something tickles my brain, but I still suffer from my chronic problem of lacking a story idea compelling enough to get me typing. Last night I even considered writing Doctor Who episodes but where, I must ask, is the line between writing "on spec" and writing "fan fiction"? As I lack any contacts or credibility with the BBC I fear any efforts on my part would fall into the latter category.
Rest assured, Internet, that as soon as I do or think something interesting you'll be the first to know.
1.13.2009
this thing is happening
FLAMING TUSK
1/16/09
MARKET HOTEL
BROOKLYN
9:30 PM
$7
also: The Fakers
Blue Leader
Human Host
Family of Love
I even put wheels on my 4x12 cabinet because holy hell are those things difficult to move.
12.18.2008
Metal-Rules.com interviews Flaming Tusk
Canadian metal webthing Metal-Rules.com has published their interview with Flaming Tusk.
Read and weep here.
Read and weep here.
12.09.2008
Flaming Tusk in Underground Rising Podcast #12
Dark Sky Records has included two tracks from Flaming Tusk's Abigail EP in the twelfth edition of their Underground Rising podcast.
We're on there with four other unsigned bands, and the podcast is distributed for free via the iTunes Music Store so go ahead and click on the link above if you've got iTunes installed.
We're on there with four other unsigned bands, and the podcast is distributed for free via the iTunes Music Store so go ahead and click on the link above if you've got iTunes installed.
12.01.2008
Flaming Tusk's "Abigail" EP reviewed by Metal-Rules.com
Hanntu at Canadian metalhead web mecca Metal-Rules.com has reviewed Flaming Tusk's Abigail EP, rating it 3 out of 5 (which translates to "recommended for serious fans" on their scale).
Metal-Rules says:
This five piece band from Astoria, New York plays an eclectic mix of death, black and thrash metal that draws as much musical influence from The Doors and Black Sabbath as Immortal, via Emperor and Deicide and Testament... Singer Stolas Trephinator mixes up tortured gurgles and screams with death roars to great effect, and the fact that I’m reminded of Schmier, Zetro Souza, Abbath and Glen Benton can only be a good thing. And it’s well worth you to taking the time to read their twisted lyrics, seeing as how ABIGAIL was inspired by the true story of Abigail Taylor (I won’t spoil it for you here but you can look it up on Wikipedia)... With the jagged, doom-ish riffing and the black/death vocals, ABIGAIL is a great debut effort. With the inevitable improvement on later albums in the lyrics department as the band matures, Flaming Tusk will be one to keep an eye out for.
Read the full review by clicking here
There's more to come from Metal-Rules.com w/r/t Flaming Tusk, so stay tuned.
And, of course, download the Abigail EP.
Flaming Tusk photo op
FT buddy Andrew Lynch dropped by the house yesterday to take some Flaming Tusk band photos for our upcoming profile on metal-rules.com. I fiddled with a color treatment on one of my favorites, with the following result:
10.30.2008
W.
Last night as we were on our way out of the theater following a screening of W., my ladyfriend and I were asked to record an interview with a Swedish radio journalist regarding our feelings on both the movie and the actual man. Since I've apparently represented the entirety of America on the Swedish airwaves, I suppose it's appropriate now to spout my feelings to the rest of the world.
When I first became aware of the existence of W., my reaction was that it's simply far too easy to take two-plus hours' worth of shots at our still-President. How, I thought, could a comedy about a self-parody really be all that interesting? It wasn't until much later that I learned the movie had been directed by Oliver Stone, and while I'm by no means a fan of all, or possibly even most, of Stone's films I was was intrigued enough to put W. on the "will see" list.
I think it's not giving too much away to say that the movie charts the course of George W. Bush's life from his induction into a frat at Yale until just before the 2004 presidential campaign (also, the boat sinks!). Structurally, it intercuts his distant past with more recent past in an attempt to evoke resonances between events in Bush II's first term and his troubled history.
To use a term of technical film criticism jargon, my reaction to the movie was more or less 'meh'. I do give credit to Stone and screenwriter Stanley Weiser for attempting to draw Bush as a semi-real character rather than a pure caricature. What they could not overcome was the fact that George W. Bush simply isn't a very interesting man.
So Bush is an alcoholic, privileged rich boy who's had everything handed to him his whole life and suffers from extreme Daddy Issues? Gee, that's fresh and compelling. And how do you draw an audience into the inner life of a guy who pretty clearly lacks one? The closest we get is visualization of Bush's "happy place": being all alone on the field at the empty Texas Rangers stadium.
Far too many scenes build to, essentially, punchlines consisting of well-known Bushisms with which we are all too familiar. There's an overall lack of drama stemming from the audience's foreknowledge of every single event that's going to happen. This, of course, is an issue with any biopic or historical fiction, but what one generally hopes for is interesting characters and an evocation of the tension those characters felt during the events in question. In W., the Grand Events are generally dispensed with via stock (and/or artfully altered) news footage after which we are treated to dramatizations of conversations had by the Big Players Involved. Maybe the revelation of Dick Cheney's grand worldview of American Empire is supposed to be shocking but, really, how can it be at this stage?
Speaking of said players, I must give credit for both best performance and most interesting characterization in W. to Jeffrey Wright for his portrayal of Gen. Colin Powell. Making Powell the sympathetic character in the Bush administration was most likely a gimme for Stone and Co., but it does work. Conversely, Thandie Newton's Condoleezza Rice is simply a silly cartoon. Elizabeth Banks's Laura Bush is boring as hell, but then again so is Laura Bush. Richard Dreyfuss is excellent as Dick Cheney and deserves praise for a relatively subtle performance given his source material.
Swedish Radio wanted my opinion on how W. was likely to affect the Bush legacy. I told them that Bush's legacy was written long before this film, and that even without it Bush will be remembered at best as a President who not only failed in everything he attempted to do (unless the plan was to create a state of perpetual war and chaos, which is entirely likely), but diminished the power and stature of the United States to such a degree that American hegemony over world affairs is likely over forever.
If that latter point is true perhaps I should be grateful to W.
When I first became aware of the existence of W., my reaction was that it's simply far too easy to take two-plus hours' worth of shots at our still-President. How, I thought, could a comedy about a self-parody really be all that interesting? It wasn't until much later that I learned the movie had been directed by Oliver Stone, and while I'm by no means a fan of all, or possibly even most, of Stone's films I was was intrigued enough to put W. on the "will see" list.
I think it's not giving too much away to say that the movie charts the course of George W. Bush's life from his induction into a frat at Yale until just before the 2004 presidential campaign (also, the boat sinks!). Structurally, it intercuts his distant past with more recent past in an attempt to evoke resonances between events in Bush II's first term and his troubled history.
To use a term of technical film criticism jargon, my reaction to the movie was more or less 'meh'. I do give credit to Stone and screenwriter Stanley Weiser for attempting to draw Bush as a semi-real character rather than a pure caricature. What they could not overcome was the fact that George W. Bush simply isn't a very interesting man.
So Bush is an alcoholic, privileged rich boy who's had everything handed to him his whole life and suffers from extreme Daddy Issues? Gee, that's fresh and compelling. And how do you draw an audience into the inner life of a guy who pretty clearly lacks one? The closest we get is visualization of Bush's "happy place": being all alone on the field at the empty Texas Rangers stadium.
Far too many scenes build to, essentially, punchlines consisting of well-known Bushisms with which we are all too familiar. There's an overall lack of drama stemming from the audience's foreknowledge of every single event that's going to happen. This, of course, is an issue with any biopic or historical fiction, but what one generally hopes for is interesting characters and an evocation of the tension those characters felt during the events in question. In W., the Grand Events are generally dispensed with via stock (and/or artfully altered) news footage after which we are treated to dramatizations of conversations had by the Big Players Involved. Maybe the revelation of Dick Cheney's grand worldview of American Empire is supposed to be shocking but, really, how can it be at this stage?
Speaking of said players, I must give credit for both best performance and most interesting characterization in W. to Jeffrey Wright for his portrayal of Gen. Colin Powell. Making Powell the sympathetic character in the Bush administration was most likely a gimme for Stone and Co., but it does work. Conversely, Thandie Newton's Condoleezza Rice is simply a silly cartoon. Elizabeth Banks's Laura Bush is boring as hell, but then again so is Laura Bush. Richard Dreyfuss is excellent as Dick Cheney and deserves praise for a relatively subtle performance given his source material.
Swedish Radio wanted my opinion on how W. was likely to affect the Bush legacy. I told them that Bush's legacy was written long before this film, and that even without it Bush will be remembered at best as a President who not only failed in everything he attempted to do (unless the plan was to create a state of perpetual war and chaos, which is entirely likely), but diminished the power and stature of the United States to such a degree that American hegemony over world affairs is likely over forever.
If that latter point is true perhaps I should be grateful to W.
10.24.2008
criticism!
No musical thing I've ever been involved with has been reviewed before. Before now, that is.
Venerable metal blog Chronicles Of Chaos has written up Flaming Tusk's Abigail EP in their Demos department. Read the review.
Venerable metal blog Chronicles Of Chaos has written up Flaming Tusk's Abigail EP in their Demos department. Read the review.
10.20.2008
regarding Sarah Palin
A longtime reader (hi, Dad!) wrote me to express his surprise that I hadn't written anything about Sarah Palin in this space. Perhaps I've been attempting to ignore her so as not to feed the troll.
I would write Sarah Palin off as a cartoon, a self-parody and a caricature if it weren't for two things: the success of her demagoguery and the insult to women she embodies.
The former is, of course, the reason she was brought onto the McCain ticket. In addition to transparently and cynically attempting to attract disgruntled Hillary Clinton supporters, McCain's campaign realized that Palin was perfectly cast to play well to white suburbanites and rustics suffering from Authoritarian Personality. She's somebody they can "relate to" who is "like them". While McCain had to attempt to appeal to the majority of Americans, Palin was tasked with currying the favor of reactionaries, racists, medieval-minded Christianists, jingoists and homophobes. Her affected "golly-goshdarnit" aspect puts an apple-cheeked mask on the grinning demon of insinuation, hissing at us to wonder "who Barack Obama really is". Let's not forget that the base she is pandering to isn't merely the bedrock of a political party, but the lowest and meanest parts of human nature.
Her candidacy is an insult to American women, particularly those who've devoted their lives to achieving some kind of political parity with men. However, it's not merely the fact that she was chosen specifically because she is a woman which causes offense, or the attempted manipulation of the female electorate evidenced by her selection. Rather, it is the particular stereotype of femininity she chooses to adopt as her public persona.
It's popular to characterize Sarah Palin as stupid. I find it difficult to believe that anyone can achieve political success, especially on the national stage, by being staggeringly unintelligent. Even George W. Bush, who is by no means an intellectual, clearly has a type of fratboyish social smarts. However, it is clear that Palin is more than happy to appear, accurately or otherwise, like a rampaging airhead. Proudly oblivious of key foreign policy ("what's the Bush Doctrine?"), unable to name credible news publications that she reads to inform herself, inability to speak in public without clumsily relying on GOP talking points... the list continues to grow. She epitomizes two of the most contemptible aspects of modern right-wing politics: the populist appeal of total ignorance ("hey, she's an idiot like me! I really relate to that!"), and the denial of responsibility via rejection of reality as evidenced by her reaction so far to Troopergate.
As an aside, this may be brilliant positioning for her role as Vice President, since under Cheney it has become clear that the new purpose for the VP office is to manage all the outrageously illegal activities that the White House cares to undertake. The Republicans, via Alberto Gonzales and many others, have clearly demonstrated their belief that public expressions of abject incompetence are a viable legal defense against charges of criminality. Perhaps by installing as Vice President a woman who goes out of her way to cultivate an aura of ditziness the nascent McCain administration is merely taking the next logical step to cover the ass of the Imperial Presidency.
In sum, the women of the United States have been offered as their political champion a picture perfect cliché of the subservient, ignorant, photogenic Conservative Woman. Her politics, of course, are also essentially anti-woman, what with her refusal to recognize that the decisions to carry her daughter's pregnancy to term and to essentially force her daughter into a loveless marriage with the mullethead who knocked Bristol up are choices. Palin's antique religious philosophy doesn't do her gender any favors, either. I shudder to think of the impact her election may have on a generation of American girls, and that's sad. Her elevation to office should be a cause for celebration, and it would be if her place was taken by any number of other, vastly more qualified women.
For me the possible election of a McCain/Palin ticket smacks far too heavily of a dystopian sci-fi novel in which the President dies in office to be replaced by a moronic religious zealot who decides that launching all our nukes at Canada is exactly what Jesus wants.
Remember, everbody: turnout, turnout, turnout. Go vote.
I would write Sarah Palin off as a cartoon, a self-parody and a caricature if it weren't for two things: the success of her demagoguery and the insult to women she embodies.
The former is, of course, the reason she was brought onto the McCain ticket. In addition to transparently and cynically attempting to attract disgruntled Hillary Clinton supporters, McCain's campaign realized that Palin was perfectly cast to play well to white suburbanites and rustics suffering from Authoritarian Personality. She's somebody they can "relate to" who is "like them". While McCain had to attempt to appeal to the majority of Americans, Palin was tasked with currying the favor of reactionaries, racists, medieval-minded Christianists, jingoists and homophobes. Her affected "golly-goshdarnit" aspect puts an apple-cheeked mask on the grinning demon of insinuation, hissing at us to wonder "who Barack Obama really is". Let's not forget that the base she is pandering to isn't merely the bedrock of a political party, but the lowest and meanest parts of human nature.
Her candidacy is an insult to American women, particularly those who've devoted their lives to achieving some kind of political parity with men. However, it's not merely the fact that she was chosen specifically because she is a woman which causes offense, or the attempted manipulation of the female electorate evidenced by her selection. Rather, it is the particular stereotype of femininity she chooses to adopt as her public persona.
It's popular to characterize Sarah Palin as stupid. I find it difficult to believe that anyone can achieve political success, especially on the national stage, by being staggeringly unintelligent. Even George W. Bush, who is by no means an intellectual, clearly has a type of fratboyish social smarts. However, it is clear that Palin is more than happy to appear, accurately or otherwise, like a rampaging airhead. Proudly oblivious of key foreign policy ("what's the Bush Doctrine?"), unable to name credible news publications that she reads to inform herself, inability to speak in public without clumsily relying on GOP talking points... the list continues to grow. She epitomizes two of the most contemptible aspects of modern right-wing politics: the populist appeal of total ignorance ("hey, she's an idiot like me! I really relate to that!"), and the denial of responsibility via rejection of reality as evidenced by her reaction so far to Troopergate.
As an aside, this may be brilliant positioning for her role as Vice President, since under Cheney it has become clear that the new purpose for the VP office is to manage all the outrageously illegal activities that the White House cares to undertake. The Republicans, via Alberto Gonzales and many others, have clearly demonstrated their belief that public expressions of abject incompetence are a viable legal defense against charges of criminality. Perhaps by installing as Vice President a woman who goes out of her way to cultivate an aura of ditziness the nascent McCain administration is merely taking the next logical step to cover the ass of the Imperial Presidency.
In sum, the women of the United States have been offered as their political champion a picture perfect cliché of the subservient, ignorant, photogenic Conservative Woman. Her politics, of course, are also essentially anti-woman, what with her refusal to recognize that the decisions to carry her daughter's pregnancy to term and to essentially force her daughter into a loveless marriage with the mullethead who knocked Bristol up are choices. Palin's antique religious philosophy doesn't do her gender any favors, either. I shudder to think of the impact her election may have on a generation of American girls, and that's sad. Her elevation to office should be a cause for celebration, and it would be if her place was taken by any number of other, vastly more qualified women.
For me the possible election of a McCain/Palin ticket smacks far too heavily of a dystopian sci-fi novel in which the President dies in office to be replaced by a moronic religious zealot who decides that launching all our nukes at Canada is exactly what Jesus wants.
Remember, everbody: turnout, turnout, turnout. Go vote.
10.16.2008
WARNING: EXTREMELY BRUTAL
People of the world.
NYC extreme metal band Flaming Tusk has just released their first EP, Abigail, onto an unsuspecting world.
To download it for free, in pretty much every possible digital format, visit flamingtusk.com and click on Music, or visit our bandcamp.mu page, or use this handy embedded player:
TOTALLY NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR MELTED FACES
NYC extreme metal band Flaming Tusk has just released their first EP, Abigail, onto an unsuspecting world.
To download it for free, in pretty much every possible digital format, visit flamingtusk.com and click on Music, or visit our bandcamp.mu page, or use this handy embedded player:
10.09.2008
title imminent
The Flaming Tusk demo has been promoted to the Flaming Tusk EP. Title TBA.
Add flamingtusk.com to your RSS feed reader, or just, y'know, keep checking back.
Plus I'm sure I'll announce it here.
Hail.
Add flamingtusk.com to your RSS feed reader, or just, y'know, keep checking back.
Plus I'm sure I'll announce it here.
Hail.
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