Anvil! The Story of Anvil :: A Movie Review

Before I even start with this review, let me say that the only Anvil song I know is "Metal on Metal" and up until last night, I thought it was by Raven. That's how off my radar these Canadian fuckheads were. Let me also say that this morning I downloaded their first 3 albums and they are actually pretty fucking rad. In a cheesy Canadian 80's metal band kinda way.

I've never written a movie review before, so I'm not sure what I'm doing here. Let me just say that if you like MI, you're gonna LOVE "Anvil!". The peeps that made it basically read MI and thought: "Shit, let's make a fucking movie! We'll find a has been band that never was and make fun of them like they do on that blog!" Well, gents, you've succeeded! 

I laughed, I cried (from laughing), and laughed again (mostly at the ridiculous Canadian accents). This documentary starts with an "Anvil primer", if you will. A short introduction to who Anvil were. Then they start to lay it on THICK. Too thick, actually. Scott Ian, Fuckhead Lars, Lemmy, Slash, Johnny Zazula and even Tom Araya go on to lie about how amazing Anvil were. It must look really convincing, but to those of us who know better, it's all a bunch of horseshit. Anvil sucked and were NOT this super influential band without whom Slayer, Metallica, Anthrax and GnR would exist. That's just not true. Tygers of Pan Tang had more to do with 80's metal than Anvil, for fucks sake! I know the film makers had to make these guys seem interesting somehow, but give me a break! Playing guitar using a dildo does not make you a musical genius, it makes you a balding, aging sad, sad Canadian. If people really knew how lame a band they were, this movie would never had gotten the budget to be made and I would have spent last night alone, at home working on my yoga and watching reruns of House MD. Instead, I went to see this awesome movie and got some action afterwards. Looking at it from that perspective, I'm glad these dbags got their funding!

Anyway, after all the hype and bullshit,  we meet Robb Reiner (of course no relation to Rob Reiner, writer of "This is Spinal Tap"... it's just a weird, odd, weird, weird coincidence), and Lips, founders of Anvil. Their lives are obviously sad and pathetic. They remind me of the dude in The Wrestler. From that moment on I laughed for an hour straight. These clowns are SO FUCKING sad and pathetic that everything that comes out of their Canadian mouths is funny as shit. Add the accents and you have pure 100% 28K comedy gold. My stomach was hurting. I thought an usher would come and kick me out.

So they talk about how big they could have been and how their lives suck now, but  they catch a break and get to go on a pathetic European tour. This thing was booked by this ugly-ass broad who is totally incompetent and play in front of bartenders and tens of fans all over the old continent. At some fest in Sweden they get to meet all these "Metal celebrities" and not ONE of them know who the fuck they are. It's a non-stop laugh-a-thon! It's so well edited, they look like total chumps! 

Besides a drummer, Robb figures himself an 'artist'. Some of his work is actually not THAT bad, but he has a painting of a turd on a toilet that basically sums up Anvil's career. 

The movie ends with a show they play in Japan and like 10.000 people are there, so you'll leave the theater feeling all warm and cozy. The part they don't stress is that they were playing first on the bill. FIRST! 11:30am! The worst spot ever on a bill. The only reason people are there is because Japanese people are anally punctual and if the flyer says the show starts at 11am, they'll be there. But not to watch Anvil. They'll be there to watch the 10 other bands AFTER Anvil.

Japanese crowds are easily pleased. I know from experience. It's easy to convince these people that you are a legend. Do you know how much Japanese tail I've gotten by telling ladies I'm a BMX legend from Brazil who is touring Japan for Haro?

Some will tell you how "touching" Robb and Lip's friendship is. They'll say the movie is about their relationship that is almost like a brotherhood. They'll insist the movie triumphs because of their perseverance, love and dedication to the band or whatever... Take it from me, it's not!

There's nothing "touching" about these people. They are just sad, pathetic and HILARIOUS! I can't stress enough how pathetic and therefore funny this movie is. You HAVE to go see it and get some Anvil's music. If you like that raw almost thrashy metal from the 80's, these guys are pretty bad-ass.

Little did I know that after the credits rolled and the house lights came on, my night was just starting to get good. I was still wiping tears off my eyes when I saw a short, ugly girl get up two rows in front of us. "Eeew!" I thought, "she looks like a tiny troll!" Then it dawned on me: Ronnie James Motherfucking Dio was in the theater with me! Fuck yeah! I wonder what he thought of the movie. I wonder if he could even see the screen over the heads of the people sitting in front of them. I wonder if he realizes how short and ugly he is.

After that, my lady friend (best know by the acronym HSWG - "Hot Star Wars Girl") took me back to her place and did things to me. I wanna thank her for dragging me all the way down to The Angelika to watch this movie and for the sexual pleasures she blessed me with later on... What a night. What a fucking night!!

What will they think of next: Gut invents Electro pornogrind

I pretty much hate "grindcore" these days, but back in the day I used to listen to a lot of it, especially sleazy gore/pornogrind like Hemdale, Last Days of Humanity, Meat Shits, Dead, and of course the masters of the genre, Gut. I have mentioned them in previous posts, but I think it's time for us to have a more in-depth discussion about their unique brand of grindcore.

Gut were always pretty gross and over the top, never failing to shock with things like the cover of "Fistful of Sperm," which featured a dude's hand holding his cummy dick (lucky for you, I couldn't find a picture). But let's be honest, we've all seen a million gnarly porn and gore covers, so at this point it's pretty hard for that sort of thing to elicit much more than a disinterested yawn. True to form, though, Gut managed to find a new way to shock: inventing ELECTRO PORNOGRIND!

Pornogrind
I will assume that most Metal Inquisition readers are familiar with pornogrind. If not, I will direct you to this older MI post on pornogrind that will tell you everything you need to know. Gut is often credited with inventing the genre, which is distinguished from regular grindcore by it's emphasis on mid-paced groove riffs rather than blasting. If you are interested in exploring more bands in this genre like Vulvectomy, Cock and Ball Torture, etc, check out this blog.

Another trademark is many, many porn samples used as intros. Very, very long intros. If you have ever listened to Mortician you know what I'm talking about, only instead of 70s horror movies they're German porn flicks or whatever. I obviously have no fucking idea what they're saying if they're not in English, although I did once ask the German lady I worked with to translate a Gut intro for me. I gave her my headphones, and she listened intently for a few seconds. Then she got pale and said something like, "He wants her to act like a pig??" and gave them back.


Anyway, Gut wasn't content to sit back and rest on their laurels, basking in the adulation of critics who fawn over them for inventing this nearly universally-loved genre. They drew from another rich genre, electro, for inspiration.

OG electro pioneers Sleaze Boys' ode to, uh, Robocop? I'd buy that for a dollar!

Electro
I'm far from an expert on it, but I listen to a lot of dance music, especially electro and electrohouse. I don't really care about any specific artists or whatever because usually I only listen to it when I'm getting drunk with a girl. There's really nothing like it for putting them in the mood. It's like the Chappel Show sketch where as soon as a white person hears a guitar, they start dancing, only in this case as soon as hipster girls hears a rubbery synth line, her skinny jeans and American Apparel tube top melt right off her body. With Gut being huge creeps who watch too much porn, it makes perfect sense that they would also be big fans of the genre.

The soundtrack to getting fucked up and making out with hipster girls

Electro + Pornogrind = The Cumback
I love mash culture, don't you? Like when your friend from work or whatever is like "Dude yuo have to check out this new Radiohead/Simon Cowell yodeling in the bathtub mashup!!" and forces you to listen to every second of the excruciatingly long and dull extended version? "Fuck," you think, "where is my copy of 'Load'? I would rather snap the CD in half and jam one of the jagged pieces into my jugular vein than endure another second of this." But you don't, you just smile and nod politely and suffer through it. Then he asks you if you've ever seen this funny song about jizzing in your pants and you tell him you have to get back to work.

I am equal parts confused and aroused by this combination of imagery

In any case, electro pornogrind is like one of those mashups, only instead of being suicide-inducingly dorky, it's 100% awesome. Gut disappeared for a while, probably because one of the guys was busy living in his van and avoiding indecent exposure charges or something. We all figured they were gone, but they came back in 2006 with a new LP entitled "The Cumback," which also brought electro pornogrind into the world. Here are a few tracks from the album...

Pimps of Gore



This is a good place to start with electro pornogrind. It combines a beat guaranteed to get you on the dance floor (not unlike the plague that makes your booty move) with guttural goregrind vocals and a dope synth line! All it needs is a bangin' donk and it would be perfect. Oh, and they could get rid of the minute-long intro sample.

The Making of "The Cumback"


Would you like to throw away 9 minutes of your life? It doesn't seem like much, but I bet if someone put a gun in your mouth and asked what you would do to have 9 minutes more to live, you would do all kinds of fucked up shit to extend your life by the length of approximately 100 early Anal Cunt songs. But if you don't give a fuck and want to piss away 9 minutes, you can watch this video of Gut recording "The Cumback." I did. Twice.

Pimptro

This track showcases Ollie's microphone skills. It kind of reminds me of the corny MCs from 90s jungle songs that would be like "ALRIGHT YALL DIG THESE FUNKY CHUNES, REWIND SELECTAH!!" I seriously have no idea how I listened to that shit, it's intolerable to my ear now. Electrohouse is so much better, and drum n bass chicks usually had gnarly meth habits (not hot).

Gut on MySpace

"They should have sent a poet"

My brother and I had unusual childhoods. While we were devoted to metal from an early age, we were also pretty nerdy kids. That word, "nerd" is highly overused these days. Everyone is a "nerd" now, but this was back when it meant something. You see, our idea of fun was watching re-runs of Carl Sagan's Cosmos over and over again. If you're not familiar with Cosmos, it was a TV series devoted to astrophysics, exobiology, physics, astronomy, chemistry and science in general...topics that are usually like kryptonite to kids. Sagan was a Ph D in astronomy and astrophysics. He taught at Cornell. Makes me wonder if he ever met or hung out with Alex Perialas while living in Ithica NY. As I've told you before, Alex lives there, and teaches at Ithica college (Cornell's retarded brother).



What a meeting of the minds of minds that would have been! Can you imagine? Sagan would discuss his work at NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory, while Perialas would go on and on about how he recorded the snare drum in Pro-Pain's album, versus his early work with Flotsam and Jetsam. My god...to be a fly on the wall!

But back to Sagan. anyone that knows me well will tell you that if you speak to me about a serious topic for more than ten minutes, I will end up quoting Cosmos sooner than later. I'm not necessarily proud of this, but as always, I try to be honest with our beloved readers. Actually, a few years ago, my brother bought the entire Cosmos series...and we watched the whole thing in one sitting. That's 13 hours in one sitting. Now that you know this about me, it should come as no surprise that from the moment I heard Nocturnus and their pseudo-scientific lyrical content I was hooked. You know that Death song "Cosmic Sea"? I love it.

Time travel? Droids entering? Sign me up!

Why am I telling you all this? Well...because I simply just wanted to. But also because I want to explain the title of this post. It's a line from the movie Contact, which Sagan wrote. In that movie, Jodi Foster's character is chosen from all of humanity to travel aboard a spaceship, so she can get back and tell the whole world what she saw. She travels and sees either outer space, or heaven or something..it's unclear. Whatever it is, she feels she's ill-prepared to describe it to the rest of the world, because of its unbelievable beauty...since she's just a scientist. Her response to seeing such beauty and feeling like she's unable to describe it, as you can probably guess is:

"They should have sent a poet."

Sometimes, I see great metal-related clips or pictures online...and I am just as humbled as Foster's character was in the movie Contact. I too, wish they would have sent a poet, since I am unable to describe such beauty to all of you. If you feel I oversold this clip...so be it. Enjoy.



If you want even more, check out the remix.





*Closing note: Credit goes to comedian Artie Lange, from the Howard Stern show. He reminded me of this quote, when he dropped it during the show, as he watched ex-Death and Iced Earth drummer Richard Christy get his balls and asshole waxed.

Metal Archeology: Artifacts from a lifetime devoted to metal (Part 3)

Here we see a picture of graduate student Emily Thayer, hard at work uncovering my Gammacide 12".

Metal Archeology. When I first coined the term, I was merely joking around. Today, at least four prominent colleges in the United States offer Masters programs in this very important field of study. As I've mentioned in past posts about this subject Metal Archeology can be explained in this manner:

Just as archeologists carefully dig through piles of rubble in search of artifacts that can give us further information about previous societies, I too have chosen to dig through my own personal rubble in search of answers and artifacts. After what has been nearly a lifelong commitment to metal (in one way or another), I have accumulated assorted artifacts which bring back memories of the past. I aim to dig deep into my past (a sometimes embarrassing past) in order to make sense of just who I was at the time. Part archeology dig, part psychotherapy session, I hope this series of ongoing posts will prove to be both insightful and therapeutic to our devoted readers. I shall call this new science: Metal Archeology.

Now that we're all on the same page, we can get started.

The item I will share wit you today is a bit unusual, but speaks volumes about a semi-legendary time in metal history. I hereby present to you, the autographed promotional picture of Chicago's not-so-legendary band Stygian. Not to be confused with the current band by the same name, who use an amazingly similar logo, this Stygian was a band who were signed to David T Chastain's label. Don't know who David Chastain is? Don't worry, you're not alone. Let me put it this way...do you know what's sadder than a pathetic riff-orama obsessed guitar-hero douche like Steve Vai or Yngwie Malmsteen? Well...how about a third rate guitar demi-god from Cincinnati Ohio who never really hit it big. That, my friends, is David T Chastain. If you want to see and hear him jam out, watch this. But more importantly, here's the picture that this whole post is devoted to:

The coveted, signed Stygian promo picture.

Do these youngsters have no shame? Not only did they steal the band's name...but the logo is also very similar. I'm sure the guys in the Stygian will be glad to hear that they had some influence on someone. It will probably cheer them up, as they continue to mop toilets in an office building during third-shift.

Like other objects from my metal collection which I have shared with you in the past, this one was also found in a box of crap that my mom finally begged me to move out of her house. Why on earth she wouldn't want to hang on to my signed Obituary drumsticks, signed Stygian promo pictures or home made Morbid Angel shirt for decades is beyond me. Her loss, your gain.

About the picture
After I found this magnificent specimen mixed in with other metal debris, I had to think for a second in order to remember where it came from. Then it all came rushing back. It came from the Milwaukee Metal Fest, which my brother and I went to in both 1992 and 1993. I'm not sure which one this picture from...but it really doesn't matter. What matters is that the fucking thing is autographed bitches! Hell yes!

Milwaukee Metal Fest
I feel like this fest should one day get its own post, since my brother and I certainly have enough memories to write a whole lot about it. For now, I'll try to tell you a few things quickly. I remember driving for hours to get to the two day fest. The venue had two stages, each starting as early as like 10am, and going until like 2am. I remember my brother and I standing there looking at a schedule to see what bands would play each stage and when. Deciding which band to see was a tough decision. The conversations between the two of us probably went something like this: "Well, Macabre will be playing upstairs, but Intenal Bleeding will be downstairs, and that will overlap with Broken Hope...oh no! What do we do?"

Held at the Eagles Ballroom, the fest was a godamned zoo, insanely disorganized but well worth it back then. To see that many metal fans, and that many bands was amazingly rewarding to a youngster like me. Throw in the ability to check out merch from the biggest names in metal...labels like Wild Rags, Grindcore Records and the like...and I was a happy camper. On the other hand, the super long drive sucked, we were broke as hell...and I certainly remember reaching a point of overload. Some of the bands that played there (aside from the ones I just mentioned) were: Brutal Truth, DRI, Morbid Angel, Biohazard, AC, Downset, Slayer, Overkill, Testament, Cannibal Corpse, Dogstarr (yes, the Keaneu Reeves band), Anacrusis, Suffocation, Exhorder, Cancer and so many more that I could go on and on for days. If you were there and remember some of the smaller bands, please feel free to remind me. I know there were tons of Wild Rags bands that I'm forgetting.

Outside the venue. It was in this parking lot that my brother bought a sweet Impetigo shirt from Richard C of Wild Rags Records. Richard was lying and saying he wasn't Richard C, in fear or being jumped by the many people in attendance who he owed money to. Like most attendees, we parked around the back during the fest.

This is where the larger bands played, which was upstairs. It was here that Slayer put on a "meh" inducing performance. I can just imagine the architect who designed the beautiful classical details in this ballroom thinking to himself "ah yes, one day Brutal Truth will play in this fanstastic space...I shall make this the grandest of all grand ballrooms"

Memories
I remember Tom, the guy who we went to the Fest with, smoking pot as he drove his old, beat up BMW 3 Series through Illinois. As Tom drove, and smoked joints that he kept in his fanny pack, he would hold his right hand out mid-air, and quickly motion as though he was signing a check, quickly flicking his wrist to and fro. We later found out that this was his version of air-drumming at high speeds. It took about six hours of driving through Illinois for us to figure this out.

I remember taking a large cooler in the trunk, filling it with ice, and storing our newly purchased records inside the cooler (protecting them with zip lock bags) while we watched even more bands play.

When A.C. played, Seth insisted that the whole audience be quiet...if not, they would not play another song. Everyone got quiet, but a kid towards the front kept talking, not having heard Seth's instructions. Suddenly, and with perfect aim, Seth threw his mike with amazing speed and precission, like a godamned harpoon. It hit the kid square in the face and almost knocked him out. It was pretty funny. Many years later, I began to tell this very story to the members of a band that we were touring with in the late 90's. The drummer, began to look bummed as I told the story. He suddenly blurted out "It was me, okay okay, it was me. Jesus, please don't tell the whole story." He was 14 when it had happened, and he was there with his dad. He was talking to him as Seth went on and on about everyone being quiet. His dad had not wanted him to go to the fest, since it was far away and potentially dangerous. Eventually he agreed to go with him, to help keep him safe. They arrived as AC was playing, walked in as they were talking and within seconds got nailed in the face with a mic. It hit him so hard that he almost passed out.

I remember my brother yelling at a drunken DD Verni, telling him "your band blows!". DD looked like bummed upon hearing the news.

You're probably thinking that his jacket says "bass", because he plays the bass guitar. Not so. He enjoy bass fishing. If you're going to ask me why his bass guitar says "I need lunch", I can't help you...aside from guessing that playing in Overkill never really paid the bills, even if that bill was a $2 happy meal from Mc Donalds.

I remember Body Count playing, and the entire lighting rig starting to fall onto the audience. I'm talking about a huge truss system with lights, wires, sandbags, huge PA system...the whole thing. Mooseman and Ice T held the whole thing up so it wouldn't fall on the audeince. Nutty.

I remember Biohazard going on and on during their entire set about how Morbid Angel was a racist band. I remember Evan saying "Biohazard ain't goin' out like that" over and over again about the subject between songs. I was never really sure what he meant, since they used Morbid Angel's amps, left the stage and Morbid Agnel came on right after. Perhaps "aint goin out like that" is pseudo Brooklyn slang for "we will agree to play with them, use their amps, and hand them the guitar cables politely on our way off stage so they can plug in." That night, David Vincent played while wearing a black button-up shirt from the SS uniform. How very tasteful.



I remember Tom Araya thinking I was going to ask for an autograph as I ran into him in long hallway by the upstairs bathrooms. The hallway was desolate, and we were walking in oppostie directions. I had a Sharpie in my hand, which I was twirling around as he walked towards me. When he came closer to me, he nodded and held his out his hand as though to sign something with my Sharpie. I just kept walking, and thus created one of my favorite awkward moments ever. Tom stood there for a second as I walked on.


I remember really liking both Suffocation and Broken Hope live. While Suffocation was playing, a long-haired metal dude who was super skinny (metal dudes come in two sizes, rail thin and morbidly obese I think) was walking down the long set of steps on the side of the stage. As he was walking, he casually turned his head to the side as though to clear his throat. Instead he began to puke, and puke he did. The guy probably barfed about five bucket-fulls of thick goo, and he did so very, very quickly as he kept walking down the steps. He kept walking as he puked, as though nothing was happening. When he was done, he simply turned his head forward as though he hadn't just barfed out the entire contents of a small reservoir. To this day, when I'm sick and find myself almost in tears as a result of having to barf, I think about that guy. To pull off throwing up with such class is a really amazing skill. It was as though he was throwing up while wearing a top hat and a tuxedo. Talk about classy.


Back to the picture
Now that I think about it, there's not much to say about the picture. Stygian were one of the many local-ish bands that played early on in the day at those fests. While large bands had autograph sessions set up (like Slayer for example) in proper booth areas, smaller bands made up their own times, and stood around in a corner somewhere trying to do the same thing. While the times during which Slayer would do signings were advertised everywhere with banners, bands like Stygian would make 8.5 x 11 photocopies that would say:

Stygian meet and greet. We will be selling autographed cd's by the phone booth to the right of the bathrooms on the first floor at 6pm tonight.

It was extremely sad. Sure enough, at the scheduled time, you'd see the small local band standing there with their backpack full of tapes, with absolutely no one buying anything from them.


How did I get this picture?
I remember it very well. Shortly after the scheduled time when Stygian were supposed to be signing stuff, I walked by and saw them completely alone staring at the wall as people walked by them. I went by again only minutes after, and a bunch of these pictures were strewn all over the floor. The band members were gone. All the pictures were already autographed by the entire band, and had perhaps been thrown out in anger. I'm not sure why I picked one of them up, but I'm sure glad I did. Without it, perhaps I wouldn't have all these memories to share with you. My favorite thing about the picture is on the back. Scribbled on the back of the picture is the following:



Crucifier, was an American band from back then (who played the fest), and not he Brazilian thrash band which is around today, and has the same name. I don't know why, but apparently the members of Stygian were trying to remember how the band's name was spelled, or perhaps they were trying to point out to one another how the band's name could be spelled in order to be really close to "Lucifer". Maybe they were also thinking of the band Crucifer, who may have played also. Maybe it's kinda' like how in the sixth grade you figured out that "satan" and "santa" are really similar words...but have very different meanings. I picture the guys from Stygian sitting there getting all freaked out by the similarities. Much like a cat can be entertained by a ball of twine for hours, metal dudes can easily spend four days on two words like crucifier and crucifer.


Aftermath
Soon after those fests happened, I remember bringing them up all the time in conversations to people...even to people who knew little about metal. At the time, they seemed like the greatest godamned thing on earth. Today, after 17 years have passed since I first went to such a monstrosity, the memories are getting a bit hazy. I no longer talk about the bands I saw back then, much less care about them. Was anyone at those early Milwaukee Metal Fests? Tell us about it.

Today, I couldn't imagine driving even five minutes to see a band play. If a band wants to play for me, they'll have to play in my living room...and this would have to be a band I love. They would have to start at roughly 9pm, and be done by 10. If any band out there takes me up on it...here are some groundrules. Be nice to my dog, play at a very, very low volume. Don't mess with my furniture, only play songs I know (none from a new album) and be open to the fact that I may change my mind about seeing you play before you hit a single note. Also, be careful not to bump into my TV or my new chair. That thing was expensive. Having said that, I'll be more than happy to have you host a meet and greet at my house. Just leave me an autographed picture, so I can add it to my collection.

Reader request: Mucky Pup

I never really paid attention to Mucky Pup back in the day, but reader Savage made a request in the comments of our earlier Nocturnus post, and if there is anything that defines us here at Metal Inquisition, it's customer service. In fact, at one of our innovation retreats in 2008, we rewrote our corporate vision statement as follows:

The mission of Metal Inquisition is to provide society with superior products and services by developing innovations and solutions that improve the quality of life and satisfy customer needs, and to provide bloggers with meaningful work and advancement opportunities, and investors with a superior rate of return.

With that in mind, we enter the bizarre and frightening world of Mucky Pup.

I don't really know a damn thing about this band other than that they have a dumb name and I never gave them a chance back in the day because of it. Also that some of them were in Dog Eat Dog, who I listened to a little bit.




U Stink But I Heart U
Apparently this song was their big break, and I actually vaguely remember it. I was a huge fan of the comic strip Bloom County when I was a kid, including the hair metal band Billy & The Boingers that featured Bill The Cat. The guy who created the comic strip held a contest in which he asked bands to record their version of Billy & The Boingers' hit song "U Stink But I Heart U." Mucky Pup's version won, and was included on a flexi that came with one of the Bloom County books (which I had).

I'm not exactly sure what it mean when your band's biggest accomplishment is winning a jokey contest from a comic strip, but it is safe to say that's Mucky Pup's biggest claim to fame. Maybe they can tell me why Sarge is always so mean to Beetle Bailey!! And for christ's sake, why can't Blondie let Dagwood enjoy a sandwich in his hammock with nagging him about chores?? Fucking bitch.



Hippies don't like water
Aside from "U Stink But I Heart U" I don't remember any other Mucky Pup songs, so I fired up Youtube and checked it out. WTF is this shit?! It makes Brokencyde seem dignified, respectable, and stylish! Then again, I have to remind myself that this was 1991 and things were very different back then. Hypercolor wasn't ironic, Living Color thought it was perfectly acceptable to wear Body Glove wetsuits on stage, and MDC had turned into the hardcore version of Weird Al (see "Tofu Spaghetti"). The Youtube description notes that MTV never aired this video... weird! I can't think of a single reason why they wouldn't air it 24/7!!

Ugh I don't even know what to say... 1000000x worse than Brokencyde!

Also, "hippies" were still a relevant part of the cultural lexicon, with bands like Enuf Z'Nuf blending really shitty hair metal with a particularly superficial, irritating take on the 60s. Apparently Mucky Pup did not like this, so they made a novelty song about it. I'd like to think of it as an abominable, cringeworthy combination of Ugly Kid Joe and Murphy's Law... only without the cool parts of Murphy's Law like hitting people with an 8 ball in a sock, and with more fatties.

It gets worse when the fatty starts skanking and you can see his enormous, pasty thighs shake like a bowl full of vanilla jello

From the perspective of someone writing this in 2009, it seems quaint and a little charming to complain about hippies like we did so vigorously back in the 80s and early 90s. And maybe it is a little naive, but it reminds me of my salad days. It makes me long for simpler times, before screamo crunk and beardos, before scene hair and one-man MySpace drum machine goregrind bands. I just want to put a Scatterbrain tape in my Walkman, put on my baja jacket, and go skateboard behind Safeway. Either that or go smoke weed on a rock in the woods and listen to Pantera. Instead, I have to do my taxes and write a proposal for market research on Crest toothpaste and I am listening to Lady Gaga. Sigh...



Mr. Hand
This song is about how the singer masturbates a lot, presumably because the ladies aren't checking for him. It is actually sort of catchy, once again in a "poor man's 'Crucial Barbeque'" kind of way. I probably would have thought it was pretty funny in 7th or 8th grade. But I also thought it was a really good idea to wear red sweatpants, a Forced Entry shirt, a Batman hat and puffy white high tops from K-Mart (the brand was "Jox") six days of the week.

Between his physique, wardrobe, and hair I have no idea why he isn't drowning in pussy

Apparently the world had a big appetite for comedy metal in the 90s, and one of the staples of the genre is wearing oversize, zany Dr. Suess hats. The drummer for a local comedy punk/metal band called Dumt wore one every fucking time they played and it made me want to kill him even though I loved Dumt a lot. Actually, I still do.

These hats fill me with rage in a way that very few things are capable of

The Dr. Suess hats remind of other early 90s fashion mishaps like those stripey tights that were so popular at Lollapalooza. I always wanted to fuck the art fag chicks in my 8th grade art class that wore Doc Martens with stripey tights and listened to Skinny Puppy and Alien Sex Fiend.

Anyway, this song is fucking terrible, I don't even have the patience to look on Rapidshit for a copy of their album (or albums... did they have more than one?). This is like the equivalent of playing old NES games for the first time. Maybe if it was 1988 you would have looked past their many obvious and serious flaws, but it is 2009 and this shit sucks by today's standards.




Dog Eat Dog - "No Fronts"
I guess some people from Mucky Pup were in Dog Eat Dog, but I'm not looking it up because I just want to be done writing about this awful shit. I used to listen to this band a bit, but I haven't heard them for years and they are much fucking worse than I remembered them being. Apparently they felt like they hadn't made big enough assholes of themselves in Mucky Pup and decided to start a new band in which they would do the most embarrassing shit possible, then record it onto a CD which they would sell.

Look at him rap aggressively into the fisheye lens! He's so angry/authentic!

Listening to this song for the first time in years, the main thing I noticed is how these are maybe the very worst lyrics I have ever heard, even surpassing Brokencyde's "hardcore shit make u feel the toxic" line. I will highlight the parts that make me cringe and vomit the most:

No fronts no tricks no soap box politics
No guns just blunts we kick this just for fun

We come with the fat joints
To uplift the moods
Big up to people catchin' on this groove
This is Dog Eat Dog not a snitch or a snoop
I might chew a bone but don't call me pooch
We're not braggin - No
Are we laggin - Never
I can already see we got your tail waggin'
I could doggy bad ya
Or have you for lunch
The answer is no now - who fronts?

Introducing the kids who get loose
Microphone check one to the deuce
Deuce to the tre relax and parlay
With the 4-5-6 we roll hits
Flip the script to move your hips
Flavor we kick the boom to the bip
The boom to the bap ABK type fat
Strapped with crazy herbs and that's that

Alright kid what ya want ya get
S.G. Dog Eat Dog represent
You know the time so act like you know
Listen to the way this ill shit flow
We travel around all boro, any city
Some got beef but they wont get to me
If you come correct and your vibes are true
Peace to your crew
We're looking out for you

Holy fuck that was hard to bear, I seriously thought about smashing my monitor a few times just to make it stop. It's like a bunch of band geeks heard "Urban Discipline" and decided they wanted to give being tough a shot... only they added fucking trumpets to the mix, so it didn't work out so well. The video is full of the most annoying 90s cliches like flannels, fisheye shots, snowboards, and beanies. It's like a Saturday Night Live parody of post-Beastie Boys 90s culture, only it's all too real. Do not want.

Conclusion
I like Ugly Kid Joe and Murphy's Law better, fuck this band. Some things deserved to die with the 90s.

More Metal Photography From Around The Interweb

If you ever thought you looked cool while wearing your Slayer shirt, think again. This is exactly what you looked like to everyone around you, a semi-pubescent rapist with creased jeans.

Here's a little fashion tip...stop pulling your fucking pants up once they reach your armpits. Why? Because you want to have kids someday. Also, show some respect to Pushead, he didn't work on the shading of the scale for hours so that you'd cover it up with your white jeans. Damn.





Was this picture taken in Ohio circa 1989, or Williamsburgh circa 2006?
We'll never know.

Can he open cans with those teeth?
Easily. He can also chew through leather belts and ceramic tile.

Which Overkill album is his favorite?
"I choose to celebrate their entire catalog"

Why is he wearing those safety glasses?
Because once his friend Chester comes over, the shit is going to hit the fan. Literally. Chester is planning on taking a shit on a fan to see what happens. Man, white dudes have all the fun.

Do his victims remember the feeling of his dirtstache on their face for years?
Absolutely.





Fuck...Lita Ford has really let herself go.




Look, I'm not trying to say that you can't be fat AND play in a black metal band. Wait, I lied. That's exactly what I'm trying to say.

PS: Wearing a LIVESTRONG bracelet on stage is not exactly kvlt.




I know what you're thinking "Ha, ha...those third world metal fans sure are funny! Look at them making funny faces for the camera." Well, don't laugh. They're not making funny faces for the camera at all. The economic downturn has hit developing economies very hard. What they're doing is showing potential clients the equipment with which they'll be sucking ten thousand cocks in order to buy a BC Rich Ironbird, and a Marshal practice amp.





As a drummer, I'm very sensitive about the way that fellow drummers are treated in bands. Seeing this picture depressed me to no end. This image is proof that no matter what country we live in, we will forever be second-class citizens. Are drummers really so terrible to be around that you literally have to put us in another fucking continent while we play along to the horrible fucking song you wrote? You agree to play a guy's power ballad, and this is the thanks you get?




Do you remember that one guy in your math class back in the day who said Metallica were "super gay", and that the reason they were gay was because they made a video for One? Well....he was at least partially right.




My reaction to seeing this picture serves as further proof that I'm getting old. When I was 13, I would have found this to be both awesome and hilarious. Today, I happen to know how much it costs to have concrete poured...and seeing this picture is making my blood boil. Fucking kids.




Who knew that King Diamond would be the type to lounge around the house while rocking a free promotional fleece vest, knock-off Oakleys and a Nascar hat. You know you're pushing the douchebag envelope when even Lars Ulrich dry heaves upon seeing you.




Is Jason Newsted so broke that he's cutting hair to make ends meet? No. What he's is doing is collecting hair from stranger in order to give himself Trujillo-like braids. Why? Because late at night, after crying for hours about no longer being in Metallica, he pretends he's on stage playing Whiplash while crabwalking through his living room.




I seriously wrote about twenty different captions to this picture, and none of them did it justice. It's so amazing, that any caption would ruin it. It would be like ordering a $120 entree at a fancy restaurant, and then coating it in ranch dressing and ketchup. You just don't do it. Still, a thought came to mind...

I'd like to think that humans are slightly more advanced than animals, and as such don't eat or normally kill our young. Still, you kinda' have to wonder how this kid's parents stopped themselves from killing him in his sleep at some point. Little did they know that the result of a single night of carnal pleasure would mean a lifelong sentence of having to hear about how amazing both Operation Ivy AND Deicide are.

Sacred Reich

What a swell looking bunch of guys. In 1991 I thought Sacred Reich were superstars, who probably toured in fancy double-decker bus. In reality, they looked like child-molesters traveling around the country in this horrible wood-paneled monstrosity. Nice trench coat, oh...and nice Hustler magazine in the back as well (under the speaker.)

This post is kind of long. I understand if you don't want to read it, or if you hate the stuff I post....but do me a favor. If you are not going to read it, at least watch the video at the end of the post. For real. You'll thank me. Okay, now let's get started:

Sacred Reich used to be one of my favorite bands back in the day. I was always drawn to pseudo-political bands within the realm of metal. As I've said many times before, I grew up in South America, I grew up during a time when extreme violence was a daily occurrence. As a result, songs about devils and satan never seemed all that scary to me. Everyday reality, and the things that actual humans (not demons with tails and horns) were doing around me were far scarier and very real. Perhaps for that reason, bands that talked about actual situations seemed cooler to me. In retrospect, the views that such "political" bands put forth were half-baked, idiotic and in keeping with their age and level of education...but back then they seemed so damn profound to me.

Check Phil out, 548 pounds ago. I always loved the cholo graffiti writing they used in their records. It gave them a certain edge over bands like Toxic. They also had that cool mascot. You can read more about the macot here. Man, if guys that looked like this had gone to my high school, I would have had huge man-crushes on them (in a very hetero way, dont get me wrong). Check out how Phil and Wiley (what a name) are posing the exact same way...even the angle of their feet is the same.

As good as they were, they fell victim to the classic thrash metal trap. They wrote the required "goofy song". In their case, the song was called "31 Flavors", and was meant to teach us about how we should listen to all kinds of music..but mostly Red Hot Chilli Peppers. The lyrics alone are enough to make you dry-heave for a few hours. Note the awful sexual double entendre. Even Dave Mustaine had to cringe upon hearing it, and he's the guy responsible for the most cringe-inducing lyrics ever. Remember his sexual opus Mechanix?


Vanilla is smooth
chocolate is kickin'
strawberry is sweet
all deserve a hearty lickin'
have em all
three scoops piled high
variety is the spice of life
Well you can have soft serve
and hard sugar cones
root beer floats
or my banana split
do you like nuts
or some sticky whip creme
come lick it off
and be my dairy queen
I love the Chilis
freaky, uplift, mother's milk

If you haven't listened to the song before, here it is. Again, get ready for major douche-chills.





So what happened to these musical and political geniuses over the years? Has time been kind to Sacred Reich? Hell no. Phil looks like a cross between a fat little league coach and Fred Flintstone. What can you do...time does that to you. Dark Angel was right. Time Does Not Heal. Apparently, it just makes you fat. They have a MySpace page, but I think it's way more fun to look at their official site, which is hosted by the one and only Angel Fire. Check it out. It was put together by Wiley himself.

Note the heavy crease on his neck as a result of being fat and having gravy running through his veins.

So over time, they may have deteriorated. What can you do. I pretty much stopped caring about Sacred Reich after "Independent", which is when they embarked on some lame pro-pot tour sponsored by NORML. I was bummed about them doing that tour back then, I'm not sure why. What can I tell you....to say I've had an overactive super-ego from a young age would be an understatement.

This picture hung on my wall for many years. Check out Barney's sweet Zubas.

Around the time that Sacred Reich went out on the "legalize it" tour, I bought my brother a sweet Sacred Reich shirt for his birthday. I believe I've written about this before, but I'll mention it again. He wore it to school on the day of his birthday, and got into bad car accident on his way back home from school. He got blood all over the shirt. I was bummed about the crash, but also about the shirt. The back of the shirt had a Socrates quote, "The unexamined life is not worth living." I'm incredibly ashamed to admit this, but I'll tell you anyway. I have actually quoted Socrates to really smart people before, and I only know the quote because of that shirt. So even though I could make fun of Sacred Reich for ages, and mock them (and I often do), I have to thank them because they made me feel cool in a group of smart people. Perhaps they weren't impressed, but I was certaily pleased with my use of the quote. Thank you Phil Rind!

Say what you will about Sacred Reich, but how many bands will help you quote Socrates at a dinner party?

Oh by the way, do you remember how Lemmy had a Sacred Reich patch on his denim jacket back in the early 90s? It was a Sacred Reich patch, but he only had the part that said "Reich"? He always talked about how he was a collector of WWII Nazi stuff, but always cleared up that he was not racist or a nazi. I get it, and I understand how this is possible...but walking around with a "Reich" patch on your jacket and a Nazi officers cap is kind of a douchy thing to do, to put it mildly. No? Come to think of it, Sacred Reich is kind of a messed up name for a band. I mean, it could easily be the name of a white power band, you know? Perhaps that's what first attracted Lemmy to the patch. I know many of you think Lemmy is rad, and everything he does is amazing, and perfect....and you probably think the Cocoa Puffs on his face are sexy...but come on. Damn it.




Okay, let's get back to Sacred Reich. I will now leave you with the best bit of Sacred Reich material available on the interweb. This is an excerpt of the Sacred Reich DVD, and its a winner for sure. This clip is filled with amazing treasures, because it's a perfect time capsule of the era. I won't even try to comment on it, or point out things about it. Just please watch the whole thing and enjoy it. Please. If you are too young to know what metal shows were like in 1991, this should give you a pretty good idea.

They're still around?

It's true. We're all getting older. Sadly, and I just found this out yesterday thanks to the Discovery Channel, we're all getting older at the exact same rate. That still shouldn't prevent us from mocking those who are further along in the process. For example, consider this picture (below) of the band Laaz Rockit. Mary mother of jesus and baby jesus, they're ancient. Oh, and nice...uh...see through shirt champ. Who knew that such a severe case of Tommy Victor Disease could exist?


Right now you're probably asking yourself..."hey, what do they look like on stage these days?" Well, perhaps this picture will answer that question. They basically look like a local Cult cover band, with a little Springsteen thrown in for good measure. Check it out.



Jesus christ, this guy makes Lou Reed look healthy and youthful.



If you're insane, or you have a severe deathwish, you can check out their site here. If like me, you are a sane human being and would rather remember things the way they were (by that I mean when they sucked, were a fourth rate band but at least looked pretty dope aside from the mesh shirt) then watch the video below. Why is this video so great (aside from the mesh shirt and the 'fro?) Because it's like having your uncle tell you made up stories about a war he was never at. Listen and learn kids.