Here we have further proof of my self-important delusions of grandeur, circa 1992. Archived for your pleasure, numerous receipts of my musical purchases around that time, which I thoroughly believed would be displayed int he Smithsonian at one point.
Sacred Rich "Question", Rightouts Pigs "Stress Related", Brujeria 7", Misifts "Evilive", Death Kennedys "Give me Convenience"
Believer "Extraction", Broken Bones and Tankard cassettes, Slayer "Decade of Aggression", DRI "Crossover", Wehrmacht LP and Metallica "One" 45-single, Slayer cassette, and DOA cassette, Sacred Reich "Surf Nicaragua"
Once upon a time, when my white high-tops were high, and my mullet flowed effortlessly down the back of my neck, I honestly believed that I was destined for greatness. Considering what I wore at the time (black sweatpants, massive amounts of Brut cologne and an assortment of metal shirts), it's fair to say that the greatness I believed to be destined for lay somewhere within the musical spectrum. Perhaps—I thought—I'll get to be the drummer of one of these new death metal bands from Florida (the time being the early 90s and all). My dream was to make multiple thousands of dollars a year, and maybe get to live in the same outdoor storage facility that Chuck Schuldiner from Death lived in near my family's apartment. That, to me, would have been a great success.
Why bring this up? Why do I share my most personal dreams and aspirations? Because I recently found proof of how severe my delussions of grandeur were back then. Though the tendency that my brother and I had for archiving every receipt of every tape and album that we bought back then (starting in 1990) could simply be chalked up to our packrat/fastidous tendencies...I would now argue something else. Deep inside my head, the one with the flowing and elegant mullet, I believed that one day these would be museum pieces. Behind bullet proof glass, in temperature controlled comfort, these receipts would be displayed in the halls of the Smithsonian, or some other similarly impressive institution. Visitors would "oooh" and "ahhh" as they saw when I bought my first Sacred Reich or Kreator cassette.
That of course, was my dream.
Reality, as is often the case, is much simpler. My celebrity status never came. I never became the drummer of a famed Florida death metal band, and these receipts have yet to be accepted into the Smithsonian. As such, today they are simply what they were then. A sad and retarded metal scrapbook, which I retain to this day.
Receipts for Entombed "Crawl", Napalm Death home video, Autopsy "Fiend For Blood" EP, Broken Hope LP, Prophecy of Doom/Axegrinder split cassette, SOD album, Morgoth CD, Napalm Death's "Utopia Banished"
Two weeks ago, this amazing picture of New Jersey's Revenant was posted here at Metal Inquisition. To say that I love this image would be a severe understatement. I mean, many have tried to encapsulate the youthful abandon that permeated early 90s death metal, but few images have done it as succinctly as this picture. What, I ask you, is more metal than playing the Fourth Of July picnic at your apartment complex? The varying heights of their hi-tops, the varying shortnesses of their shorts, the varying degrees of shirtlessness upon their chests. If you were there during those years, you understand why this image is so great. This is what it was like back in the early 90s, and if you missed it...you missed it. Death metal was new, china cymbals were huge, and Morrisound Studios reigned supreme.
A sweet outdoor show in Italy, with an audience made up of no one...because the picture was taken with a tripod and a timer. This picture, by the way, officially started the musical genre known as "small amp metal". In short, this musical style can only be played with small practice amps, and is at its best when the stage the band is playing in is at least twice the height of the tallest amp.
Memories:
During my reign as drummer of a handful of so-so bands in the early 90's, I played a few outdoor shows...just like the one pictured above. The band I played the most with was more of a grindcore band, but our shows were almost exclusively with death and speed metal bands. As a drummer, these shows were particularly frustrating, since grass is pretty much the worst surface on which your drumset can sit as you attempt to rip a brutal blast beat. As my drumset rocked back and forth, the cymbal stands dug into the soft grass, and you suddenly realized that you were engaged in battle with nature. Luckily, the bands I was in never attempted to seem evil, so when my cymbals toppled over onto the flower beds in front of the drumset, I probably looked less stupid than the death metal bands who would play after us. They, I have to tell you, looked seriously stupid. Have you ever seen a dude growl "Our next song is about a brutal serial killer...and its called..." into a mic, while standing on grass, at 2 in the afternoon, and a fly starts buzzing around his stinky hair? By comparison, we looked downright presentable and cool. Which reminds me, at one such show, a local band who we despised introduced one song by saying the following:
"This next song is about a cannibal who eats people"
Hmmm. As opposed to a cannibal who eats what? Tofu? By definition, a cannibal eats people, no? But anyway, I'm getting off track here.Out of the handful of outdoor shows (in reality, they were more like "backyard shows") that I played in during the early 90s, one surely sticks out in my mind above all others. Imagine, if you will, driving to a remote and rural location in the midwest...a town that was little more than a conglomeration of homes and had just recently gotten its very first stoplight. Then imagine a flatbed trailer, like from an 18-wheeler, with bands playing on top of it while it's parked in the middle of a depressing field. Billed as a "metal fest", the show was merely six bands and an audience of about 40 people. If you're a math genius like me, you can probably figure out that most of the audience was actually made up of the other bands. Depressing, I know.
Not happy with the fact that only horrible metal bands were getting to play outdoors, pseudo-prog bands have recently started to get in on the action. Here we see a prog band's singer and keyboard player praying that his parents don't come home early and yell at him for using all the extension cords.
It was one of the first shows that our band had played, so we set up a boombox in front of the stage to record our set. On the drive back home, I remember listening to the tape in my brother's car. Quickly we realized that two stoned Pantera fans had been standing by our beloved Panasonic boombox during the whole set, and endlessly did their horrible Bevis and Butthead impressions into it's tiny microphone. As a result, what we ended up with was a thirty minute tape of two rural jerkoffs with no teeth testing out their comedic chops onto our boombox. I remember what they looked like, slightly overweight and with nearly identical Vulgar Display Of Power shirts. The fact that they were only missing a few teeth, made them stand well above the rest of the audience, most of whom had even fewer teeth, and the few they had were dark brown. This, I would later learn, was partially as a result of drinking water pumped from wells, which lacks fluoride.
Outdoor shows in empty fields and backyards during the 90's would sometimes bring out bands who were barely metal at all. Like a community college who will let anyone in, backyard shows sometimes had bills with bands totaling well into the double digits. Inevitably, at least one band would feature a guy in a Dr Seus hat who was more than ready to use his wah-wah pedal for every song. Another interesting note about outdoor shows during that time: apparently no one was allowed to use anything other than small practice amps with 10" speakers.
You know how sometimes people talk about the "good old days"? When they do, all I can think about is that "fest". I remember standing in the hot sun for hours, playing on top of a trailer, watching fat dudes get drunk and turn their back on the makeshift stage as we played, so they could light off firecrackers in order to throw them in to the neighboring cornfield.
So why did I suddenly remember this less than memorable "fest"? Well, it's all because of the Revenant picture above, but also because of the videos below. The first video features an outdoor performance, but also the typical dude who is getting down, not realizing that he's really taking away from the "evil" atmosphere that the music is trying to convey. We had a few guys like this at our shows...one particularly memorable one was an elderly black man in a suit and tie who suddenly decided to take his tie off and wrap it around his head as he danced around like a six year old ballerina at a recital. His suggestive gyrating dancing is a sight I wont soon forget.
The second video reminds of this era because of the sheer number of bands that were this bad who I had the pleasure of sharing a bill with. Outdoor shows were particularly attractive to these types of bands. If at first you think they sound okay, keep watching...and wait until the singer starts. Thanks to the reader who sent this in.
This dude knows how to GET DOWN!
Although this show is taking place indoors, the musical quality is indicative of many small-amp/outdoor metal bands. Is this guy the greatest metal vocalist ever? Do you even have to ask? I'm glad that the drummer has headphones on, so he can play perfectly on time thanks to his click track.
A classic that we've posted before. Certainly worth checking out again.
Reader submission. Sometimes the show is not on stage at all...check out the dude dancing.
I know what you are thinking after reading the title: "Dude, have you ever heard Cianide?!" Don't get me wrong, Cianide definitely fucking suck. They are wizard-level masters of being jaw-droppingly terrible. In fact, sometimes I can't sleep because I'm just curled up in the fetal position in the corner of my room, holding myself and rocking back and forth because of the scars carved deep into my soul from just the few moments I've spent listening to their seemingly endless stream of recordings. The reason I am going into so much detail about fucking Cianide is because I want you to understand that I know exactly how wretched they are. Only then will you believe me when I say that, hands down, "Amerika The Brutal" by Six Feet Under is the worst death metal song of all time! Let's look at exactly what makes it so awful...
Please watch this video in full before reading any further. And yes, this WILL be on the test.
Chris Barnes is stangry I think I have mentioned it on here before, but I'm a huge fan of Loveline (only the radio show, the TV show was awful). One of the hosts, Adam Carolla, came up with the term "stangry," which describes someone who is simultaneously stupid and angry. I really can't think of a better term for Chris Barnes, as his whole post-Cannibal career has that kind of directionless, inarticulate anger directed at SOMEONE who is responsible for, well, all the bad stuff in the world. He reminds me of an old, half-blind moose who gets shot in the leg by a bowhunter and just runs around smashing into stuff, bellowing at the top of his lungs and lashing out at whatever is around him in an attempt to get back at whoever made him feel this pain and rage.
Here are the lyrics to the Old Skull song "Homeless": People that don't have homes I look in their eyes... I see sadness They don't have enough money to pay the rent Because they don't have good enough jobs. Why don't they have good enough jobs? BECAUSE THEY DON'T HAVE A GOOD ENOUGH EDUCATION! WHY DON'T THEY HAVE A GOOD ENOUGH EDUCATION? BECAUSE OF WAR DEBT!
Least sophisticated lyrics of all time: Six Feet Under or Old Skull? I am not a fan of affected, figurative writing (unless we're talking about Hipster Runoff), especially when it comes to the lyrics. Please just get to the fucking point, I am a busy man and I don't want to spend time deciphering "coded messages in slowed down songs," to borrow a phrase. That includes the post-Dillinger Escape Plan school of "long witty/sardonic song titles." And don't get me started on Discordance Axis' song titles. That said, even a meat-and-potatoes writer like me must add a certain amount of style to his/her work or it just gets weird. Unless you're The Dwarves, who come off as (extremely creepy, fucked up) geniuses when they have song titles like "Let's Fuck," you can't get away with just stating the facts... which is exactly what SFU does, in the least interesting way possible.
I have discovered a new disease: Chris Barnes' Syndrome, in which you turn into a treant shortly after starting a terrible band.
If you watched the Old Skull video above, you will notice two things 1) their music so loose and noisy that it inadvertently sounds like Nuclear Death and 2) the absurdly simplistic lyrics make Discharge sound like James Joyce. But I can forgive them: as you may have also noticed, they were 12 years old when they recorded that song.
Like Old Skull, Chris Barnes' approach to writing lyrics seems to be "make an angry statement of fact regarding my opinion on a social or political issue." The problem is that he is 42 years old, so he can't use, well, actually being a child as an excuse. A couple highlights from this song:
Listen it's a fucking joke and they make you believe it on the TV That's how they deceive you- I watch and I listen and I question their reasons You know what, I don't fuckin believe em
I worked in print shops for years when I was younger, and this reminds of the kind of thing that I'd hear at work there. Printing basically attracts the same people as framing, roofing, carpet laying, and other bottom-of-the-barrel trades: lots of alcoholic felons who have a chip on their shoulder and want to tell you all about it. You'd be standing there doing some mind-numbing bullshit like punching holes in booklets for 9 hours, and one of these guys would come over to you, lean in as though he was about to tell you something really important and say, "Those fuckin' politicians, man, they're all a bunch of fuckin' liars! I don't believe a goddamn word out of their mouths, they're just in it for the money, man!!" It's really uncomfortable, because what do you say?? I would usually just shrug, nod and say something non-committal like "Well I guess they're not getting your vote, are they?" and hope the guy would go wander off and rant at some other unfortunate motherfucker.
I'm not afraid to speak my own mind I don't use the first amendment to hide behind I'm guaranteed that freedom, I'm born with that right
First of all, in one breath he says he's not going to "hide behind" the First Amendment, then in the next line he reminds us that he is actually guaranteed freedom. There's always the possibility that he's got some kind of overthought-yet-insane Constitutionalist position, but I'm going to chalk it up to stangriness again. It has that "you're not the boss of me/you can't tell me what to do/you don't know me/you're not my real dad" vibe that's a sure sign of stangry.
Fart jokes: Never not funny!
If Terrence & Phillip made a death metal video, it would be this I'm willing to bet Barnes has seen more than a little South Park in his day. What stoner doesn't take a few industrial-strength bong rips then stare at Comedy Central for hours on end while they shovel Doritos into their mouth and laugh way too hard at marginally-funny jokes? Based on the Video Toaster 2.0-level animation and 6th grade art direction, I'd say Barnes is a big fan of the Terrence & Phillip movie, although I'm not sure that he understands it's a joke in which the central premise involves how laughably awful the movie is.
This is seriously a picture of Chris Barnes with his riced-out Lancer Evo. I don't really even know what to say about this... there are so many levels of meaning in this image that academics will probably spend decades unraveling it and filling volume after volume of cultural studies journals with vain attempts at articulating the postmodern implications. It's like a white trash Horn of Plenty!
He was probably too baked to catch that part, and just nudges one of his bandmates out of his weed stupor, points at the TV and says, "Dude... we should our next video like that. I love cartoons, man!!" then they high-five and start laughing uncontrollably. After a minute, Barnes pauses for a second to ask "Wait... why are we laughing??" The other guy gets all serious for a second, then cracks up and says "Dude I don't even remember!!" and they laugh for another 10 minutes.
Here are couple of the best moments where SFU uses images and sounds to beat you over the head with his stangry political opinions. They start out pretty much dumb and straightforward, but by the end of the video it gets real fucking weird:
Racism is wrong! If you're an identical twin, don't hit random black people on the street with your purse!
Corporations have twisted the political system to serve their own corrupt interests! Also, there is a doll in a bikini that rides really high on her hips like they would wear in a ZZ Top video!
America is a country of greedy, shallow materialists whose avariciousness is exceeded only by their lack of self-awareness!
Uncle Sam is really a zombie! A zombie who wants your money!
Uh... I'll be honest, I'm not sure what this part is all about... probably something really deep though, let me get back to you!
OK, this is towards the end of the video. At this point they were probably just high as fuck and turning knobs on the computer to see what it would do. They thought this part looked "trippy" so they put it in the video.
You could literally grab just about every frame in the video and it would be so full of subhuman stupidity that you would probably faint in horror... so if you watch the full video, please make sure you are seated!
Like Pokemon, Chris Barnes is going down the natural path for his species and will soon evolve into his ultimate form. Protip: If you're a stangry stoner for too long, you turn into The Dude! Just ask my stepdad.
Kids, don't smoke pot! I'm not really into the "scared straight" approach when it comes to talking to kids about drugs, but if you are, just have them watch this video. Then press "stop" on the VCR and turn to face the classroom authoritatively, arms crossed. After an uncomfortable moment of silence in which everybody reflects on the horrors they just witnessed, say "This is your brain on drugs. Any questions??"
We here at Metal Inquisition are of the opinion that most of the greatest music ever created came out of Morrisounds Studios during the early 90s. Thanks in large part to the legendary production and engineering of Scott Burns those early Florida Death Metal bands helped to shape and define what the genre would become.
I love all kinds of death metal, but if I had to pick just one to listen to for the rest of my life it would be Florida Death Metal. And if I could only listen to one song from each of my favorite Florida Death Metal bands for the rest of my life I would come up with Metal Inquisition's Ultimate Florida Death Metal Mix. If you're a fan of Florida Death Metal, then you will love this. If you don't know anything about Florida Death Metal, then prepare to be schooled.
Of course, if this was 1993 I'd put this mix together on my shitty shelf system by dubbing a cassette, but thanks to the wonders of modern technology I can now download whole albums, then splice the tracks I want into a mix which I can then upload to a file hosting site for the enjoyment of all our readers. Tracklist and download links follow...
Metal Inquisition's Ultimate Florida Death Metal Mix:
1. Solstice - Transmogrified
2. Morbid Angel - Chapel of Ghouls 3. Nocturnus - Destroying the Manger 4. Deicide - Satan Spawn, the Caco-Daemon 5. Death - Lack of Comprehension 6. Obituary - Chopped In Half 7. Atheist- And the Psychic Saw 8. Cynic - Uroboric Forms 9. Hellwitch - Viral Exogence 10. Brutality - Ceremonial Unearthing 11. Massacre - Cryptic Realms 12. Resurrection - Rage Within 13. Monstrosity - Imperial Doom 14. Malevolent Creation - Iced
Back in 2003, Lucho Metales and I recorded a few dozen songs at Morrizound Studios. He played drums, I played guitar, and we both did vokills. All of the songs are first takes and written at the same time as we recorded them. Many of the riffs are stolen- the only one I remember is "Firestorm" by Earth Crisis, but I'm sure there are others in there too. In retrospect, some of the song titles and lyrics are still pretty funny, some of them are stupid and not funny.
More lyrics (click for full size)
When you hear the name "Disengorgmentification," your first reaction is to think that we are just a generic death metal band. But that is why we hate labels. Disengorgmentification incorporates a wide variety of influences, specifically Afro-cuban polyrythms, zydeco and fusion, to create a heady pastiche of sonic brutality that maims your eardums at Mach 9 (I stole that part from the sticker on the front of the Unseen Terror LP). Just as Mordred has their roots in thrash, but is much more than a simple thrash band, Disengorgementification is much more than a simple grindcore band.
WELCOME TO THE HELL
Unfortunately for us, it is 2008, and the market for noisecore isn't what it used to be. I am confident that had we released this in 1993, it would have been huge. And by huge, I mean that we would have been flooded with offers from cassette-only labels in Turkmenistan and Ecuador. If we played our cards right, perhaps we could have done a split with Agathocles, Psycho, or perhaps even appeared on a compilation with Paterini and Ulcerous Phlegm. In any case, there is no use in crying over spilled milk. All we can do is share the fruits of our labor with you and hope for the best.
For bonus points, see if you can identify where the samples come from. I am pretty certain we spent much more time finding those than we did actually "writing" or recording the songs.
Here we see Trevor looking much like Rodin'sThe Thinker, wondering why on earth he looks so much like Skeletor, and whey he's wearing white socks with black shoes.
We are once again opening up our video vault, so that Metal Inquisition readers can enjoy the metal goodness that has been hiding in the mountains of VHS and Beta tapes that are sitting around in my basement. This time, I bring you Florida's Obituary on public access television. I got this video, along with some Deicide and Napalm Death footage on a trade with Pat from Hellwitch back in 1992. Watch and enjoy. Please note the following:
- Great set decor. Nothing says "metal" like wicker.
- Sweet Sadus hat/hair combo
- "Plus, you're thrashing so hard" (0:59)
- "Did you guys ever jump into the pit?" , as she says that she makes the face shown above. (1:05)
- Awkward moment with young kid who thinks "Man in the box" is a song by Red Hot Chili Peppers (3:22)
- Awesome burgundy sweatpants are both versatile and comfortable (5:17)
- Great discussion about the validity of recording at Morrisound, sadly there's no talk about why bass drums sound like typewriters when recorded there. (6:42)
A candid shot of Evil D and his prison bitch, Alessandro.
If you've ever been to Italy, then you know that Italians do not fuck around when it comes to airport security. They may not be able to win a war or protect their borders, but you cannot fuck with an Italian airport. There's carabinieri all over the place casually packing fully automatic firearms and I cannot tell you how many times I've had my luggage ransacked for no reason other than to make my life miserable. It's no surprise then to find out that one of our favorite 90s death metal retards, David Vincent AKA Evil D, was arrested and charged with a weapons offence for carrying a bullet belt (Thanks to our loyal reader Jason for the tip). You can read the full Metal Hammer article about the incident here. Having personally spent many hours in Italian airports I cannot tell you how amusing I find this whole incident. I can totally picture airport security pulling the bullet belt out of Evil D's luggage, inspecting it, looking at each other, him pleading with them that it's not made of real bullets, then them whispering something to each other and within seconds 15-20 carabinieri swarming Evil D and escorting him to a holding cell. I'm not surprised that they questioned him for two and a half hours. When it comes to matters of airport security, Italians like to be thorough. When asked for a comment on the situation Evil D responded in his characteristic dickhead manner. "For 20 years I've had my same friendly bullet belt with me at all metal occasions. After 20 years of being a lawless individual, I'm happy that the Keystone Kops of spaghetti western fame have been able to show me the error of my ways." I'm sure it's that kind of attitude that got him into this fine mess in the first place. He's lucky the Italians are such understanding, forgiving people. In foreign countries around the world people have been brought before firing squads for much less!
Evil D going over the lyrics to a new song entitled "Eradication of the Etruscans."
As a young kid, I was attracted to the world of metal due in large part to the dark and mysterious aura that seemed to surround it. Record covers were evil, the music was evil, and the band members were surely evil. I was not alone in believing this, since the media fully bought into it. Looking back, I don't know how anyone could have been afraid of metal, or metal band members. The photo shoot featured in this post shows just how sad metal really is. This is the real deal my friends. This is Hellwitch, and this shoot was done recently. As I've mentioned before in this blog, I used to trade videos through the mail with Pat from Hellwitch back in the day. Pat is the long haired guy in the sleeveless bodysuit. As metal as he may look, keep in mind that Pat would write me notes that went along with the videos we traded, which were written entirely in cursive. He had impeccable penmanship. Not very metal, but a nice guy for sure. Now on to the pictures, which are so amazing that I'm surprised any camera was able to capture this much metal fury.
1. Where do you even buy gloves like this? You don't normally see a guy wearing this type of thing, just sitting back so casually bathed in the radiant Florida sun. Normally, he'd be in the woods of Norway, wearing make up. But this isn't a black metal band, so he's just very casual about it, as if saying "hey, so I have a studded leather glove. It's no big thing. Relax. Let's go to the beach"
2. Out of all the medieval weapons, the mace has always captivated the minds of metal heads. Again, his casual demeanor downplays the very metal object he's holding. This is Florida, after all, and there are other things to do and places to see...so why sweat the fact that you're chillin' on a tank holding a medieval weapon? Chill, go get a tan. Young metal kids without his pedigree would be all gung-ho about. Not this guy. He's all "step aside kids, let me show you how a real metal pro holds his medieval weapon".
3. For real, do they even sell high tops like this anymore? Maybe he stockpiled in 1989 when they stopped making them.
4. Nice N' Easy's "Deep Auburn", a favorite hair color in Florida retirement homes. 5. Throwing the horns (while wearing a glove like this) when the picture is already so metal is almost insulting. It's like a soldier spitting on the corpse of the enemy he just shot down. I mean, jesus, we get it. You're super metal, but now you're just rubbing our faces in it! You know, there is such a thing as a bad winner.
6. Tasteful case of Rob Flynn's disease. Frosted tips, sweet necklace and facial hair. The music he plays may be metal, but this guy is all about the ladies. Hence, his use of Revlon's most popular highlight/frosting kit.
7. Again, note the casual demeanor here. Yes he's holding a medieval weapon, but it ain't no thang.
8. Actually, this guy's hair is pretty rad, so I can't even make fun of it. He's wearing a Terrorizer shirt from Blue Grape merchandise too...so he's pretty much my hero.
1. Okay, someone learned how to use Photoshop or something. Let me rephrase that, someone owns Photoshop and doesn't know how to use it yet. But that has never stopped anyone in the past. Either that, or these dudes seriously own a tank and are firing it in the middle of Florida, which is probably illegal as hell. Do the authorities know about this? They may be standing on the tank very casually but a millisecond after, I think they all fell off the tank. Why? I'm no expert, but based on the footage I've seen of tanks firing, they always seem to move back about a foot due to the sheer force of whatever they are firing. So, these guys may look pretty sweet now, but quickly after this shot was taken they all ended up on the floor looking not so metal.
2. Wait, I think they do own this tank, and ARE in fact testing its capabilities. This is proof that the authorities DO know about it. Otherwise, how can you explain a full squadron of F-16s flying overhead doing surveillance?
1. I don't have anything new to say about this guy. I just wanted to point out his frosted tips again. His fashion idol is that dude from Crazytown. I also bet you anything that this is the face he makes when he bangs his 17 year old girlfriend in his mom's trailer.
2. Have you ever felt a bag of marshmallows after they melt from being out in the sun? That's probably what this feels like. But instead of a bag, the melted marshmallows are being held in place by a sleeveless bodysuit. So it's a little bit different. But not all that different.
The debate regarding the validity of double bass, as well as the specifics of its use is as old as time itself. More often than not, however, this debate is in the hands of amateurs with little to no real metal pedigree.
So what happens when members of Napalm Death gather to discuss this very subject while at Morrisound Studios (home of the typewriter bass drum sound)? History is made, that's what happens! Notice that Pete Sandoval's double bass abilities get mocked as being used "for the sake of it." After all, Mick believes that double bass should only be used for power.
Pete always looks like he's about to puke, or melt into a puddle of grease. Or both.
As you watch this, keep in mind that this was recorded as Napalm Death mixed their album "Harmony Corruption." Also note the bickering between Mick and Mitch towards the end. It was this volatile relationship that made the Defecation album so good. Lastly, please check out Scott Burns in the background, rocking some sweet denim shorts.
No one better give me any lip about the fact that the picture above is of a double bass pedal, rather than two single pedals. I couldn't find a proper shot with two Axis pedals in one shot. Deal with it.
The year was 1991, and I was lucky enough to be living in the epicenter of death metal culture, Florida. Earache records could do no wrong then (we'll just try to forget Fudge Tunnel for the sake of this piece), and Chuck Schuldiner was practically reinventing death metal as he and an impressive list of studio musicians recorded "Human" in Morrisound Studios. It was a heady time for sure.
My family was broke as hell at the time, and sadly we could not afford proper metal attire for me to wear. Yes, I did manage to buy an Obituary back patch at the record store next to Bird Bowl in Miami...but that took months of saving. If I wanted a metal shirt, I was on my own. Back in the day, we didn't just buy our shirts. By god, we made them.
Enter Mr Delpino. Mr Delpino was a bug eyed drunkard of an art teacher at the school I attended. He was best known for multiple stints in rehab, drinking on the job (out of milk jugs he kept under his desk) and speaking to the class through a lapel clip-on mike. He would often leave the classroom as he was teaching, only to keep on teaching through the microphone. Hearing him take a piss in the bathroom through the small speaker at the front of the room as he continued to talk is something I'll never forget.
Anyway, I signed up to take his class because I heard that he allowed students to do silkscreening during and after class. I was hooked. During that semester I produced three shirts, the highlight of which is this fine Morbid Angel shirt you see here. I wore this shirt proudly all the time back then, knowing it was a one-of-a-kind item. It worked well with my black sweatpants. In retrospect, I'm not sure why I picked a white t shirt (the two other shirts are white also), except that perhaps I already had the shirts, and my mom refused to buy me black ones so I could screw them up by screening crap on them. It was an unusual choice for metal shirts to be sure, but also a smart one considering the blistering Florida sun. I was super metal AND weather conscious. What a combo. Ladies....I was a catch!
Looking at it now, I think the most redeeming quality of the shirt is the design in the front. I'm not sure where I came up with the idea for doing a typographic representation of the song "Immortal Rites", much less combining it with Morbid Angel's pentagram/cross/6 combo. A good bit of work seems to have gone into the word "immortal", while "rites" seems like an after thought. As I think about it now, I'm sure my mom was thrilled when I brought the shirt home. Not only had I ruined my white t shirt, but I had chosen to put this crap on it? Great. Unlike many people my age who look back on their younger years in shame, I look at this shirt with pride. Well, okay...and also some shame.
As a little kid listening to metal, I always thought that for musicians (and others who worked in the metal-music biz), the world was surely filled with both brutality and glamour. An enticing combination for sure.
Then I saw this video...and I quickly became depressed. Watch as members of Napalm Death pile into Scott Burns' sad little pick-up truck to check the album mix for Harmony Corruption. Who knew that death metal guys were so comfortable with their sexuality to pile in so closely in a hot Florida afternoon for a metal sausage party? They look like clowns getting into a tiny car. Clowns who record death metal albums, that is. Shane looks like one of those mushroom characters from Super Mario. If you would have told me when I first heard Napalm Death that this is how death metal was made (in a crap studio by a highway in Florida, using a Mitsubishi truck to check the mix) I would have just given up and turned in the few metal credentials I had at 11 years old.
Watch closely, you don't want to miss:
- Scott Burns' tiny denim shorts - Studio employee asking if its okay if "a guy from Morbid Angel" stops by - Coroner sticker on pick-up truck - Jessee following the notes along with his fingers
As we have discussed before, it is without a doubt that the 1990s were an incredible time for death metal. Especially if you liked an endless stream of albums full of clicky bass drums and cookie-cutter riffs topped off with Wes Benscoter and Dan Seagrave covers. And that's definitely what you got when you purchased one of the seminal death metal compilations of the 1990s. Finally, it should be noted that we are reviewing the cassette versions of all these compilations, for those of you who are gaywads that pride yourself on pointing out that Dr. And The Crippens weren't on the Japan-only double 10" flexi version of Grindcrusher or whatever. I hope you get hit by a meteor.
Please leave comments on your personal highs, lows, and WTFs for the albums, and remind us of what other generic 90s death metal comps we missed.
At Death's Door: A Collection of Brutal Death Metal I was going to make fun of this one but after looking at the track listing again, it's actually pretty sweet and generally devoid of crap or novelty bands, especially considering it's from 1990, making it the earliest of all these comps.
Highs: Believer! I love this band so much even though they're Jesus freaks. I'd go so far as to say they might be the best thrash band of all time. Seriously. I love both their albums, especially the one that sounds exactly like Earth Crisis. Also, one of the better Deicide songs.
Lows: Malevolent Creation, yuck! I can't think of anything even slightly notable about that band. Well, except for that one song... you know... that one.
WTF: For a good 2 years or so, I thought Deicide were called "Decide." I am pretty sure I said a few times that Decide were the most brutal band ever.
Death Is Just The Beginning Vol I The only other person at my high school that listened to death metal was this poser named Cam. He let me borrow this tape in 9th grade. It was my first introduction to Nuclear Blast, and as you might guess, I was not impressed. That shouldn't be a surprise considering this is the same label that thought people would pay money for Gorefest and Kataklysm records. If there's one thing we learned from Nuclear Blast bands, it's that Euros shouldn't be allowed to make music.
Highs: Uh... well, I actually really like one of the Righteous Pigs songs on here, which is funny because I can imagine even Wild Rags turning down their demo.
Lows: Master, Defecation, Atrocity, Disharmonic Orchestra... need I go on? Oof. Oh and don't forget Benediction! If you can make it through both sides of this tape, you're a braver man than I am.
WTF: There is someone out there on this planet who considers this the best album ever made. Think about it. There are 6 billion people on this motherfucker, one of them has to think this album tops them all. He probably also has severe head trauma.
Corporate Death Relapse these days is a truly awful label. Not as bad as Earache I guess, but who is. They mostly put out beard metal and hardcore with not an Exit-13 record to be found, it's bullshit. But back in the early 90s, they were pretty sweet because they put out lots of awesome American death metal, such as this comp.
Highs: Suffocation "Human Waste." This completely knocked my dick in the dirt when I first heard it and began my decades-long love affair with wigger slam metal. Also, back then Relapse had the balls to put out weird shit like Candiru and Convulse, which I still like a lot. OK, that's not true, but it was still cool.
Lows: Mortician. Ugh. Disrupt, one of the worst bands ever that just wouldn't quit. General Surgery, the epitome of forgettable death metal.
WTF: At the time, I didn't really get that the whole "corporate" theme was a joke. But I knew Relapse was a huge label because they had color sleeves for their 7"s, so I wasn't surprised that they could afford the building on the cover for their headquarters.
Grindcrusher In retrospect, most of the albums in the Earache catalog are complete garbage, although at the time they seemed like the best label ever. This is certainly no exception. For the most part this was fourth-string European bands that were deservedly unknown. However, there are a number of seminal tracks that cannot be dismissed.
Highs: Fucking CHAPEL OF GHOULS, one of the top 3 death metal songs ever written (the other 2 are "The End Complete" and "Hammer Smashed Face"). Unseen Terror, the finest Garfield-based grindcore band ever. This was the first time I heard Nocturnus!!
Lows: There are so many. Godflesh, Sore Throat, Mighty Force... but the worst is probably Cadaver. Jesus Christ that band is terrible. Nothing is worse than generic Euro 90s death metal.
WTF: When I was 14, I thought Lawnmower Deth was a really good band.
Within the world of metal, Mick Harris has always been considered to be a pioneer. Often credited with inventing the "blast beat", Mick was an integral part of Napalm Death during the band's early years.
That's one side of this man. But there is another side. The side that makes stupid trumpet noises for no reason at all, while embarrassing the hell out of his band mates. How much of this stupidity could you take? What the hell is he talking about? I left my idiot to English dictionary at home.
Notice how uncomfortable Barney seems in the first part of the video. I know he's probably thinking "Benediction was an embarrassment, but this jackass and his creepy trumpet noises really put my old band to shame." In the second part of the video poor Shane Embury is probably thinking to himself "Oh boy, he's gonna do his stupid jumping around, trumpet sound thing....I'll hold the mic for him...God how did I get to this point in my life? I was a musical pioneer, now I'm holding the mic for a spazztic douche while looking like a huge fat mushroom"
It is well known that I don't like black metal, with the exception of early USBM bands like Havohej, Profanatica, and Von. As far as I am concerned, black metal is for beard metallers and weirdo Scandanavians. And don't even get me started on Hydra Head.
That's why Darkthrone is such a tragedy. Their first album, "Soulside Journey", is a masterpiece of generic, early 90s technical death metal. More than anything else, it reminds me of the first Gorguts album, "Considered Dead." I know all you beard metallers prefer the later Gorguts material where they sound like Dillinger Escape Plan and Human Remains, and that's how I know you're all posers.
Why would a band record an excellent Gorguts/Dismember tribute album like "Soulside Journey" then ruin their reputation by writing "Transylvanian Hunger"? That sounds like a song from the Castlevania: Symphony of the Night soundtrack (which, by the way, is excellent). Which is fine, but it certainly isn't metal.
If you want to confess to us that you are a poser, just leave a comment in which you defend "Transylvanian Hunger" or black metal in general.
As a teenager I remember making fun of balding suburban douchebags who still wore tie-dye and had a hard time shaking their past. They were holding on to a time and place that had passed long ago.
Today, I sit here watching this video about Morrisound studios and I all of a sudden understand how suburban douchebags end up attached to another time and place. To the dismay of younger metal fans, I think death metal peaked in Morrisound Studios. Okay, laugh at me...I don't care. Those were simple days. Earache and Roadrunner were kings, the Milwakee Metal fest was THE place to be, blast beats were mostly irregular and sounded like a sack of potatoes falling down the steps...but things were good. It was a prosperous time.
Yes, some modern-day technical death metal impresses me....but nothing will compare to those early death metal records made at the mecca known as Morrisound. Yes, Morrisound is still around, but it's not the same. Damnit, where's my time machine when I need it?
I'm a workaholic, and I've invested a lot in my job emotionally. It can be really rewarding, but sometimes I can't sleep at night. I stay up tossing and turning for hours, worrying about things I have to do the next day or whatever. That's when I turn to bad death metal, my most trusted sleep aid.
30 seconds of Benediction and this could be you!
There really isn't anything that puts me to sleep faster than crappy death metal full of dull tremolo riffs, triggered typewriter drums, generic growling vocals, and of course a Dan Seagrave painting on the cover. Jungle Rot and Deeds of Flesh are like lullabyes to me, slowly putting me to sleep like a mother's tender touch or the gentle rocking of a cradle. The repetitive, bland riffing of bands like Vital Remains, Incantation, General Surgery, or pretty much anything else from the vaults of Century Media, JL America, or Wild Rags soothes me like sipping a glass of warm milk by a crackling fire in an overstuffed recliner, carrying me off to the land of nod on gossamer wings. The mere mention of, say, Insatanity or Desultory makes my eyelids feel like they're made of lead.
Now if you'll excuse me, it's time for my afternoon nap. Where's my Agathocles discography?
Obituary are legends, almost universally respected throughout the metal community, but even they aren't free from controversy. For over a decade, they've angered close-minded metal fans all over the world by doing things differently. For example, read this Youtube comment from a (seemingly foreign) fan who is very angry about the rap song on Obituary's 1994 album "World Demise":
BUT FUCK OFF!!!! back from the dead album just for those goddamn rappers! put down their credibility as a Death Metal band! fuck that shity album! HATRED AGAINS hiphop in REAL METAL NOW! fuck that shit "music" in real METAL!
It also made a lot of people mad when they wore Rollins Band and Red Hot Chili Peppers shirts in the video for "The End Complete." But you know what? They don't care! They really don't care! They care so little, they wrote a song to tell you all about it! They do what they want!
Obituary's Allen West was released from jail after serving an eight month sentence (due to multiple DUIs) in a Florida prison. You can read the full story here. I'm guessing his mug shot was taken when he was booked, not during his time in the slammer...which means that this guy actually wears scrubs to chill and drive around. Godamn. Also, could someone please tell him that his wire rim glasses are a bit too George Costanza like? You were in Obituary dude! Get some contacts pronto! Okay, maybe your top priority right now is not going to jail again, and getting you life in order. But after that....contacts. On the double!
Lastly, check out the tattoo section in the Obituary site. I love Obituary and all...but damn. By the way, look at this tattoo. It has really bad letter spacing between the "O" and the "B". It's as though the killer knives that make up the bloody Obituary logo shifted around in the killer knife drawer in Obituary's kitchen. Or something like that.
