Roadie for a day

Britain's only Udo Dirkschneider look-alike gets a 14 year old a job working for Iron Maiden as a roadie.


Video via reader Omar

Cleaning out the Metal Inquisition Archives

I was looking through the Metal Inquisition YouTube account, and realized that a few videos I uploaded were never published.

First up, Barney from Napalm Death showing he's got mad skillz on the mic:




This next one came from one of the many Betamax tapes that are currently housed in the Metal Inquisitions library (a shelf in my basement). It features Kirk Hammet's mustache, and other members of Metallica circa 1991 talking about their new stage set up, and how revolutionary it was. It's as though they invented the cure for polio.




Lastly, we have German (Update: I guess they are actually Swiss. I'm a poser) thrashers Coroner, talking about how innovative their music was, and then telling us super hilarious stories about how "incredibly bizarre" their bus driver is. Hold on to your hats folks, this story is absolutely zany!

Roger from accounts payable having a great time at a Manowar show

I'm happy to see that Roger from the accounts payable department here at Metal Inquisition finally got to experience Manowar live. I've been telling him for years how great they are, so for me to see him let it all hang out like this brings a smile to otherwise my somber face.

Nocturno Culto. The man, the legend....the fisherman.

Mick Harris. The man, the legend...the fisherman.

Belgium's Finest

"Belgium's Finest", the phrase alone brings great images to mind. Belgium, is great at so many things. Belgium is great at easily being invaded by the Germans, they are also great at putting mayo on their fries ("frites" as they call them) and great at developing horrible bands like Front 242. Just as bad, if not worse than being invaded by Germany, is the Belgian band Agathocles. In case you don't know, Agathocles is a band who are best known for putting out more records than the number of hair plugs in Kirk Hammett's head. And that's a whole lot.

This is what the band Agathocles looks like. If you need to have any leaking faucets or electrical work done around your house, now you know who to call.

Putting that aside, Belgium is also home to one of the greatest cyclists of all time, Eddy Merckx. Here we see Merckx posing with US Secretary of State Condaleezza Rice. According to most Belgians, Eddy Merckx is so great that his urine can cure lepers, and his farts smell of fine cinnamon and mint. By comparison, Agathocles records make you feel worst than if you were a leper and also smell like farts.

Notice her happy smile, that's because she just caught a whiff of one of his potent, but pleasant farts.

But there's more to Belgium than cycling and putting mayo on fries. I know this, because I was there in the 90s. I remember the abandoned rollerskating rink that the band I was in played (thanks to the thirty six people who showed up by the way.) But these are all merely sidenotes. Why? Because the most important and relevant product that the entire country has, however, must be the band Hell Injection. See for yourself.



Fat shut-in guitar player? Check. Biohazard wanna-be singer? Check. Creepy tag along/roadie who just sits there during band practice and "feels the vibes"? Check.




What does this awful Photoshop collage signify? Is it in honor to all his dead homies? Is he sad because Agathocles is putting out another split 7" record? We'll never know.



There's always the one dude in the band who's girlfriend always tags along. Just like Yoko, she's gonna' break up the band. By the way, she hates her boyfriend so much (the singer) that he refers to having sex with him as him giving her a "Hell Injection".




You're not Joey Ramone? Oh, okay...that's good. Can I beat your face with your stupid bass then?

Pyogenesis: Teenage awkwardness in musical form

The name of this band was brought up by one of our readers a couple of weeks ago. Upon reading it, I was instantly transported to another time (1992)...a time when my brother would spend entire weekends reading and writing letters with tape traders from places like Romania, Ecuador and Turkey. Back then, our mailbox was consistently packed with demos from noise, grind and death metal bands from all over the world, most of them completely awful. It's within that context that I remember the name Pyogenesis, and as such I quickly wondered what had happened to them since. Through the magic of the interweb, my thirst for knowledge was quickly quenched via the video below. Listen to the music and be amazed a this group of germans who never met a style of music they didn't like. Much like the awful buffet restaurants that have pizza, and pasta, and chinese food, and ice cream, and Indian food, and sushi...the mix is interesting but odd at the same time. Think about the awkward teenager in your high school (perhaps it was you) who bounced around from subculture to subculture. That teenager is Pyogenesis. As the music starts to take a decidedly pop-punk twist, remind yourself that these guys were metal enough to have been on Osmose Productions, and some of the members were in Gut. With an impecable metal resume like that (I'm kinda' joking, in case you can't tell) their change in musical direction is even more amusing. Notice that this clip only features their evolution until 2002...by now they're probably composing rock operas, and "dropping" mix tapes that feature Lil' Wayne.






Oh, and who could forget their semi-techno cover of Toto's "Africa"?

Images from around the interweb

Here we see two of our summer interns (Emily and Alberto) from UC Davis doing research for this post. Good luck this fall semester guys!

As we have done before, today we are once again taking you around the world, the world of the internet, via images that we have found during our travels through the real world and through cyberspace. Join us, wont you?





The last time I was in Belgium, I saw a poster which led me to believe that Nocturnus was playing that night. Needless to say, I was surprised and excited by the prospect of getting to see one of my favorite time-travel themed death metal bands from the early 90s. I went back to my hotel room (I don't stay in Hostels, because I'm not a teenager and I have a job), and changed into my death metal show attire. Imagine my surprise when I showed up and realized that I was in some kind of fruit-boot festival. As far as the eye can see, euros wearing rollerblades were busting out sick tricks, like the ones from the movie Airborne (an MI favorite)...needless to say, I was both sad and disgusted. I went around asking these stupid teenagers if they even had any theories about time travel or spaceships. Sadly, they didn't.





Can you imagine how hard it is for his wife to cry herself to sleep every night after she realizes that this is the man she married? Having said that...sweet pants and bandana combo bro!






Perhaps you've seen this amazing Nocturnus cover, I know I have since I have the original artwork framed in my living room. Anyway, the other day a friend of mine who went to art school was over and noticed some incredible flaws in this masterpiece. I know, I know, it's hard to believe since Mike Browning has the Midas touch. Be that as it may, the image above includes lines that were rendered by very a sophisticated computer program. This image shows the many conflicting perspectives within the painting. The conclusion? Either this thing was painted by a drunken four year old, or Mike Browning just discovered some kind of sixth dimension...and we're all too fucking stupid to get it. Is he a visual pioneer like architect Peter Eisenman, who almost singlehandedly brought deconstructivism to the architectural forefront? Your make the call.





"Fuck Travis! I specifically told you NOT to change the speed on the fan to "turbo" until we started playing 'Winds Of Sickness'! The fan is part of our stage show, it's not a fucking toy! "

That nights performance was putrid, as were all the others during their four day tour of southern Illinois.





Is he casting a spell on me? Will the spell make my hair and face as greasy as his for the rest of my life?




Is he casting another spell on me? If I allow him to cast a spell on me, will he give me his magic cape? Maybe he's not casting a spell on me at all...maybe he's just saying "smell my fingers"...and maybe the guy on the left is making that face because he just did.






Being the singer in a Mexican atmospheric black metal band is not all fun and games. First, your drummer tells you that you have to help him load in his 84 piece drumkit, most of which he bought used at the Queensryche garage sale. Then, you suddenly remember that you forgot to bring the flour tortillas you made for the band to eat before the show. ¡Ay dios mio!



When these people were born, their parents were full of hope, and dreamed of their sons and daughters going on to live full and happy lives. By the time this picture was taken, their parents' spirits had surely been broken. They know and understand that their kids turned out to be fat pathetic shut-ins. As a result, they barely cry themselves to sleep anymore.





Most black metal bands speak about evil and darkness, and that's all fine and good...but this is a band's whose message I can truly get behind. As you can see in this picture, the singer is denouncing the low aesthetic values of dropped ceilings, a message I think we can all get behind.



When anyone is trying to act super evil, there's always some mexican dude who just wants to drink some Bud and give the camera the finger. Here at Metal Inquisition, we love that Mexican dude. I mean, honestly...who would you rather hang out with? The black metal guy just wants to show you his picture disc collection, play Burzum videos for you, and brag about how he knows the guy that writes the music reviews in anus.com. On the other hand, the Mexican dude knows the hot girl at the taco stand, he does a killer Al Pacino impression, he owns all the Fast And The Furious movies for PSP, he works at Pac Sun and can get you a discount...and his brother does landscaping work for super cheap. Who would you rather hang out with? Your call.

Hail to Spain, Hail to the Vuelta a España

In my ongoing effort to make people see how cycling is very metal, I've created yet another fake Mayhem record cover. This one features an image that was sent in by one of our readers. In case you're wondering, the badly translated name of this album is "this dude fell during a crit, and his bloody knuckles messed up his SRAM shifters." I ran it through an online Norwegian translator to make it even more kvlt. I know what you're thinking, I could have used one of those pictures of Jens Voigt after his crash..but that would be tasteless. I got to shake his hand and fawn over him this summer in Andorra...so now we are like best budz, and I won't do that to the man. Still, a reader requested it...so here it goes. The name of this album is "Jens Voigt busted his god damned face." If you don't get why these images are funny, perhaps you've never seen the original Mayhem record cover...or perhaps you think my sense of humor is horrible. I would certainly understand that too.

Okay, this is the official beginning of the post:

This past weekend, I found myself at a rather pleasant ice cream shop with Mrs. Lucho Metales and fellow MI staffer Gene Hoglan's Balls. Aside from being known for their delicious ice cream, this place is also known for having highly unusual toppings such as bacon, wasabi peas and salmon. Although I doubt that anyone actually gets these toppings, since they would probably taste horrible with any ice cream, the mere idea of it certainly ads to the charm of the place. When selling an out-of-town guest on the idea of going there, I'll say "they have great ice cream, and you can get wacky toppings like bacon." Friends are usually revolted by the idea, but then will say "sounds cool, let's go." Similarly, I know that many find the posts that have anything to do with cycling on this blog to be a bit like the bacon topping. Most of you dislike the mere idea of it...but I hope that they add to the charm of the place. Also, what else am I going to post about? Tom G. Warrior's appendectomy?

So why a post with a cycling picture? Because the Vuelta A España started on Saturday, the last of the three Grand Tours of cycling. On the one hand, this is sad news, because it means that the summer (and the pro cycling season) is almost over. On the other hand, it means that my Dark Angel and Celtic Frost long sleeve shirts will be making their first official appearances this year....a real highlight for me, and all the ladies in town who are no doubt amazed by my fashion sense. It also means I'll get to ride wearing those ridiculous lobster gloves, and will thus get made fun of some more by strangers. Still, this all gives us the opportunity to take a closer look at Spain's metal output once again...and no, I'm not just going to write about Baron Rojo and their receding hairlines. Like punching a baby in the face, it's just way too easy.




I'm also not going to make stupid cycling/music references that only two people in the world will get...that would be retarded. For example, I will NOT be pointing out how the drummer in Earth Crisis looks exactly like America's cycling semi-sensation Christian Vande Velde.



But seriously...don't they look exactly alike? They even have similar Coco Puff-like moles on their general nose areas. But anyway...what I'm here to do is to once again look at Spain's metal output, and I do mean look, since I'm certainly not going to take the time to listen to any of these horrible bands.




Question
What's the difference between this guy and the pile of dog shit he unknowingly just sat on?

Answer
The ill fitting t-shirt.

*As one of our readers pointed out...please notice the horribly stretched-out neck on this guy's t-shirt. Disgusting. Does he think he's in Flashdance?



Is this his best attempt at a cool metal pose for the picture on their album? No, this is the face you make, and the pose you hold when your venereal warts flare up.




Just look at his face, he knows that simply hitting that first chord in The Final Countdown can bring entire nations to their knees...so don't test him! He has a Korg X5D keyboard, and the sheet music to the entire Europe catalog...and he's NOT afraid to use it!




Inspired by the likes of Lacuna Coil, all young European bands are now forcing their nearly-attractive female cousins to join their bands. Due to a continent-wide shortage of Valtrex, these young women are often kept as slaves, and forced to sing for these bands in exchange for little more than a single dosage of the herpes medicine. On an unrelated note, please note the sweet eye make up on the guitar player. Alice Cooper? Juggalo? Black metal fan? We'll never know.




The all-brown outfit makes him look like the last shit I took. Check out his cigarrette, and the fact that he not only brought out his guitar, but also his guitar stand for this picture. This guy's middle name is: Commitment. His last name? That's easy: CreepyEuroRapist.




Speaking of creepy euro rapists...Andoni's hobbies include: polishing his throbbing, red, phallic guitar, and asking "you want to make sexy with me?" to unsuspecting American tourists. If said tourists respond with "no..get away from me you creepy euro", his hobbies will also include chasing them into their hostel and trying to seduce them by playing Joe Satriani riffs.




This is Juan's patented "I'm casting a spell on you" pose. Why do I get the sneaking suspicion that if these guys sang in English, the word "thrice" would be included somewhere in their lyrics? As in : "The fair maiden cast her spell upon me, not twice but thriiiice!"
Lastly, can you imagine how disappointed you must be as a parent when your son comes home wearing a fucking pirate shirt like this one? The day he wore this home for the first time after buying it at the goth/pirate/s&m shop, his parents probably exhaled with extreme sadness and said "we'll be in our bedroom...awaiting the sweet release of death."




The upside of starting a band in a small town in Spain is that you will be an instant demi-star within the local scene. The downside is that there is a lack of musicians to choose from. It's for that reason that you'll always end up having to ask the local janitor with a slight case of cerebral palsy to join the band. What other choice do you have? He's the only guy in town who owns a drumset! So what if he drools while he does a wicked blastbeat? Hey, you have to break at least one egg to make an omelet.





Nothing, and I do mean NOTHING says "extreme metal power" like practicing Pantera riffs through a Peavy practice amp with a 10" speaker.





Apparently, being insanely unatractive while tucking in your shirt and pulling your pants up until your genitalia burns in agony is not just for members of Mythic anymore.

An unrelated example of the same look, which we here at MI lovingly refer to as "Metal Mama" Jeans

Free International Travel, Courtesy of Metal Inquisition (Part 2)

In Part 1 of this post, we mentioned how transatlantic travel is unnecessary when you can simply look at a country's record covers to fully understand their culture. This may sound small-minded, but I find it to be both true and economical. I should also tell you that this applies to travel within your very own country. For example, some may say that the covers of NWA's albums were exaggerated depictions of a reality that only a few LA residents ever experienced. I would normally agree with you, but allow me to tell you a little story.



The first time I was ever in Los Angeles, I landed at LAX exhausted. I don't mean just tired, I mean exhausted the way Lars Ulrich looks in those slow-motion shots from the Wherever I May Roam video. Upon arriving to Los Angeles, I boarded the nearest Avis car rental shuttle and made my way into their makeshift office. Once there, I quickly claimed the keys to my meh-worthy mid-sized sedan...which featured both AM and FM radio. As I drove out of the parking lot, I looked around and felt happy about the fact that I was finally going to see Los Angeles. I had been to San Francisco twice before, but never southern California. For a latino such as myself, who grew up drooling over the imagery in films such as American Me and Blood In Blood Out, Los Angeles (silly as it may sound) was/is a bit of a cultural mecca. I had lived in Miami, but Los Angeles is the real deal...a center of all that is latino scum culture. As I drove, the sun was setting, and even the not-so-great area around LAX looked beautiful to my tourist eyes. The birds were chirping, and the smog was barely visible...things were good. Los Angeles, I told myself, was my kind of town. Just as I thought about this, I made a right turn and encountered what looked like a photoshoot for an NWA record cover. Two cop cars sat by an abandoned body shop, as the LAPD law officers put handcuffs on about ten latino dudes, who sat on the curb. All the guys were wearing white wife-beater shirts, cut-off khaki shorts and had their long white socks pulled up. Either these were Travis Barker's fashion advisors, or they were the real deal.

By the way, check out this picture of Travis Barker (in which he barely looks like a latino gangbanger) with The Game. Note Travis' shirt, does the logo look familiar?



As I got closer, their heavily inked bodies revealed what I thought...these were some badass dudes, not just props from a hip-hop video, or a Travis Barker GQ photoshoot. As I drove slowly, one of the young men being handcuffed turned around and said something to the cop. Without skipping a beat, the cop beat him on the side of the neck with a club. The young man collapsed on the curb, I winced...and quickly accelerated my Chevy Malibu. Leave it to me to turn away when a fellow latino is being beaten by the po-po. For all the talk about unity amongst my latino brothers that I've done during my lifetime, my foot hit that damn gas pedal faster than members from Assuck go to whores upon their arrival to Amsterdam while on tour. But what was I to do? Why were these guys being arrested? What did he say to the cop? I'd rather not get involved. As I drove away, and got on the highway (they call them "freeways" in California...see...when you travel EVERYTHING is different) I began to think about the whole ordeal I had just seen. As I drove at speeds seldom exceeding 25 mph on the freeway, I thought to myself: The NWA record covers were actually pretty accurate. They did deptict LA as it really was. I could have saved myself the trip to California, and simply looked at the covers of the records while sitting at home.

It's with that spirit in mind that we offer you the following record covers from Russian bands. Why go through the trouble of booking a flight to Moscow? No need. Metal Inquisition is taking you there free of charge. Have a safe trip.





Before the iron curtain fell, doing business with western artists like Dan Seagrave was pretty much impossible for those in the growing Russian death metal scene. Not able to reach and commission the master of depicting fictitious, lava strewn caves...these industrious Russian bands had to make do with what they had. Much like cab drivers in Cuba have retrofitted their 1952 Chevys to run on kerosene, this band simply contacted their cousin in Poland who had just finished his first semester in art school. The letter in which they told him what to paint said the following:

Cousin, please paint for us the following:
A dark scary cave in which five creatures dwell. A purple lizard woman, a purple devil with a taste for gold Rolex watches, a melty lava man, a bat, and a skull/tarantula. Although this makes little sense, please render it as we have requested. Oh yes, and somehow inside the cave a weather system has developed, and as a result there is lighting. Thank you for painting this magical cover for us. By the way cousin, how are you and the family doing? Will the 20 year wait on your Lada be over soon?

One part Suicidal Tendencies, and one part Devo, these Russian masters were the first hardcore band to proclaim their love for skateboarding, which they called "wooden roller plank". This 12" record is actually a split between the first two bands in the Moscow hardcore scene, Pulse and Stylus (or something). Although many detractors referred to these musical pioneers as "infidels" for taking up such American pursuits as "wooden roller plank", Russia's entire hardcore scene should thank these guys for forging on regardless of what their comrades had to say.






I hate to be one of those "I only like their demo" douchebags...but this is where both Pulse and Stylus began to go downhill. Due to a limited supply of skateboard wheels, band members began making their own out of sawed-down broomsticks. Soon, they grew tired of the hardship they endured and took to other sports. Not able to engage in any sports that members of bands like Suicidal Tendencies or Cryptic Slaughter may have been involved in, they turned to the only sport that was available at their local Communist Party youth hall. Sadly, that sport was racketball. In an attempt to make the sport more "extreme", both bands chose to blend aspects of brakedancing into it...the results were both amazing and tragic. Although both bands managed to get Charlie Sheen to pose for the album's cover, the scene they had created began to disintegrate...as many fans grew tired of hearing lyrics about racketball. The model that has worked so well for their obsession with skateboarding, failed terribly with other sports. Perhaps the best example of that would have to be their third and final recording, which completely revolved around jai alai, a sport they saw in an episode of Riptide.

Why Candlemass rules above all other shitty Swedish bands

***PLEASE NOTE: THIS POST DOES NOT CONTAIN ANY REFERENCES TO SWEDISH DEATH OR BLACK METAL.

I have never been much of a Candlemass fan. I don't know something about fat Swedish guys with brillopad hair wearing a Slanket never really turned my crank (Yes, I am aware he's not in the band anymore). However, if you follow my Twitter (and really, why wouldn't you?), then you'd know I've developed a little bit of an obsession with them. I have rediscovered them, if you will. Now, does the fact that I just started liking a band in 2009 that has been around since the 80s make me a poser? If some cretin came to me and told me he just now got into Hellhammer, I'd probably label him a fuckwad poser and steal his car. That's the usual poser punishment around here. Well, call me what you will, but I like Candlemass now. I did have Candlemass Live on cassette in high school, although I only listened to it once.

Other than the occasional Sabbath song here and there and some Paradise Lost, I don't usually dig on the sludgy slow doomy type shit, but lately Candlemass (and Messiah's fatness) have changed that. It's not only that I have found their songs incredibly catchy or that I have rediscovered how fat (and therefore funny) Massiah is, but the music seems to match my mood as of late. It's not that I have been sad or depressed. Quite the contrary, I have been on the up and up (which you'd also know if you follow my Twitter), but somehow their slow tunes have become an anthem to my life these days. Whatever, I'm a fucking werido.

The reason for this post, tho, is not to talk about the average Candlemass tunes, Messiah's fatness or to promote my Twitter, but to talk about the awesomest songs the Swedish meatballs, known as Candlemass, ever recorded. Read on, my friends. Read on!

Sweden has a long standing and well documented history of shit music. Who can forget Hick?

This image is so fucking funny on it's own, I'm not even gonna bother trying to say anything witty, mean or in anyway "funny" about it. I'll just point one thing out. We found Ron Weasely's real dad!

And there's Faith! Who can forget Faith? Who can forget the Doom pioneers who brought us the "Hymn of the Sinner" 7" single? Who can forget them? Not me! Mostly because it's hard to forget something you'd never heard of before until doing web research for a long-winded and all around retarded post about a second rate band like Candlemass.

From L to R: Assclown wearing my mom's suede boots // Moustache wilding frontman with a poodle haircut, my sister's sweater, my gym socks circe 1984 and a crucifix keychain // Guy looking sad 'cuz his mom won't let him grow his hair long // And... wait is that a dude or an ugly chick?

I didn't wanna bring these guys up, but...

So many poodle haircuts I don't know what to do. I wonder if that's like a "Swedish Thing", these terrible haircuts.

And then there's ABBA... Fuck me with a 15" black dildo! This whole Mama Mia! bullshit could have been avoided if these fucktarts would have died in their teens. *Sigh*, how I long for Nocturnus' Time Machine right now... Way to go Sweden, thanks for nothing.

Is it me, or does everyone in this picture look like his wearing a wig?

But all of the Swedish musical "legends," none is bigger (or lamer, really), than this gentleman. Allow me to introduce to Sigge Furst, a true Swedish icon. He was a mediocre actor and a horribly bad singer during the 40s, 50s and 60s.

He did more than 130 movies, and I'm sure they were all "very good." I wonder if the Swedes understood the concept of Two Thumbs Down in the 50s... Anyway, he was in the incredibly entertaining musical "I Dur Och Skur." What a picture that was! They sure don't make them like that anymore. Sven Lindberg was also very good in this movie. I recommend you put it on your Netlix list right away. In your Swedish Netflix, AKA "NeetFliiks"

And let us not forget the TV masterpiece "Himmel Och Pannkaka" featuring the incomparable Gunmar Bjornstand. That show was a kneeslapper! Imagine a mixture of Seinfeld, Gilligan's Island and and The Benny Hill Show! Actually that's not it at all, I just made that up. I have never seen and Sweedish TV, unless you count soft porn as "TV."

So, what does the prodigious Sigge Furst have to do with Candlemass? Aside from also being a Swede, in a stroke of true Swedish genius, in 1993 Candlemass decided to cover four songs by the late legend in an EP aptly titled "Sjunger Sigge Furst." I'm not sure why I said "aptly", since i have no idea WTF "Sjunger" means, but maybe I wanted to sound smart, and the use of words like "aptly" make you sound smarter than you actually are. I got a B in drafting once.

In any case, I think the whole EP is brilliance on mp3. Below, please find both, the original and the cover, of the catchy tune called "Bullfest." I don't really know if they even have bulls in Sweden, so I'm not sure what the song is about, but I love it! If it doesn't make you wanna get up and dance, there's obviously something really, really wrong with you. Or maybe there's something really, really wrong with me. Actually, I know there's something really, really wrong with me, so please disregard the previous statement.

I hope enjoyed that as much as I did. Probably not, but then again, I'm not sure I care.

Here's something else I found that I thought was interesting... Apparently Sigge Furst is not the only has-been dipshit Candlemass paid tribute to in the 90s.

So, what have we learned today, kids? Well, we learned that there is no cattle in Sweden, that I have serious psychological issues and that gluttony is a sin. Go fuck yourselves. Porn.

.