I made an animated gif of Tom Araya spitting on himself

Hammer Smash Your Enemies: Hatebreed / Cannibal Corpse show review

If you don't like Hatebreed, you're not my friend. It's as simple as that. And I know who my real friends are: my bros from Vile Gash, Weedsteeler and Homage Clothing who made the trek with me to catch the Hatebreed/Cannibal Corpse show a few weeks ago. If you're too boring and old to go, here's what you missed.

Born of Osiris = sick pitt riffment 2k9, deathcore style

Sumeriancore & Typewriters

The openers, Born of Osiris and Hate Eternal, proved that innovations in death metal come from both young and old bands. First up were Sumeriancore pioneers BoO, who brought the fucking mosh as only Sumerian bands can, combining chops with sick pitt riffment that got the crowd warmed up in spectacular fashion.

Here is a video of some high school fatties covering Born of Osiris in their high school gym. When their "fans" start moshing at :47 you will want to vomit with vicarious embarrassment, then wish you could spray everybody under 21 in the face with AIDS

I can't say the same for Hate Eternal, though. When they started playing, I thought someone was playing a recording of a Mavis Beacon typing tutorial, the clicking and clacking coming at such a furious pace that I thought the space bar was going to break in half. Then I realized it was their bass drum and threw myself on a sword.

File under inane-statements-of-fact: "This next song is about shooting blood out of your cock, it's called 'I Cum Blood.'"

Careers in Death Metal
I'll be honest, I wasn't really looking forward to see Cannibal Corpse, but I should have been. They fucking slayed, especially when they played shit off "Tomb of the Mutilated." Hearing those songs live made me remember how that record blew me away when it came out, and also that when I was in 10th grade my mom said "Please don't play Cannibal Corpse or The Accused before dinner, they make me lose my appetite!"

I'm sure you've seen this video of Corpsegrinder talking about his World of Warcraft guild or whatever, but if not, your life is incomplete!

I'm guessing the Cannibals are in their 40s by now, and I can't decide whether it's sad or awesome that they've made a career out of playing death metal. They're like the death metal version of the dad from the Wonder Years. When you ask them how their latest tour is going, they just grunt and say "Eh. Work's work," and go back to killing Night Elves.

YOU FUCKING BLEED NOW

"I don't need to be inspired by metal"

Many people talk a lot of shit about Hatebreed. Not that they need my support, but I need to say a few words about Hatebreed in general and their new album in particular. The most common memes among Hatebreed haters are "all their albums sound the same" and my personal favorite (from a Metal Sucks commenter) "I don't need to be inspired by metal."

"Wait, Chuck Schuldiner was GAY?!"

If that's the case for you, congratulations. I'm happy for you. Unfortunately for me, I need all the help I can get. I won't lie: 2k9 has been the hardest, most painful year of my entire life by far and I've listened to Terror and Hatebreed pretty much nonstop. Sometimes your life falls apart and you need to have Jamey Jasta screaming at you that "This day is worth living." When you're as down as I've been this year, "Never succumb to the war you fight in your heart" is exactly what you need to hear. Laugh if you want, but I sincerely love Hatebreed because their songs mean a lot to me and have helped me through some seriously fucked up times just like Black Flag, Terror, and Cro-Mags do/did.

I got this about two weeks ago and am going to get a "SMASH YOUR ENEMIES" tattoo soon. I will have not just one but TWO Hatebreed tattoos. That is how much I love Hatebreed!

"They changed it, now it sucks" & "They didn't change it, so it sucks"
Another common criticism among butthurt haters is that Hatebreed's albums all sound the same. First of all, that's not really true: the latest record, for example, is by far their most blatantly "metal" album, despite remaining 100% consistent with the Hatebreed sound. Second, what's so bad about that? As long as Jamey & crew keep coming up with new breakdowns and lyrics that keep me from sticking my head in the oven, I'll always be stoked on the band. And they're fucked either way: Whenever they do introduce something new such as the Crowbar-style clean vocals on the new album, the haters hate even more.

I don't give a fuck. All I know is that the new Hatebreed record has some of their hardest mosh parts to date and is arguably their best since "Perseverance," which is a nearly perfect album. If you like Hatebreed, you will like this record. If you don't, go listen to Xasthur while you beat off to noise CD-Rs and let me mosh with my bros.

One of the hardest fucking songs ever written. Amazing lyrics, insanely brutal and catchy riffs, and PERFECT video. If you think this is "cheesy" or "corny" your life has been too easy.

A la Carte Moshing, Irresponsible Breakdowns & Mosh Platforms
If you don't consider Hatebreed one of the best live bands of all time, you are a fool. Whether you like their music or not, you can't deny that they are a finely tuned mosh machine that knows how to get the party started like no other. In no particular order, here are some of my favorite parts of the show.

A la Carte Moshing: I didn't want to get all sweaty and get my leather seats all yucky, so I watched from the back of the venue and ran down to mosh it up for my favorite 3 or 4 songs (I think they were "As Diehard As They Come," "Perseverance" and "Proven"), then returned to the safety of the other old people by the bar.

Irresponsible Breakdowns: I hadn't heard any of the new songs live, and when I heard them play "Not My Master" and "Everybody Bleeds" I literally started laughing at how absurdly brutal the breakdowns were. If I was in Hatebreed and someone brought in a riff like, say, the meta-breakdown from "As Diehard As They Come" (listen to 1:30, holy fucking fuck) I think I would have to say something just to ease my conscience. "Dudes, remember that with great power comes great responsibility. We possess powers of mosh like nobody else on this planet, but we must use them wisely. I am afraid that riff is so fucking hard that people will die when we play it live. We can bring the mosh to the people for sure, but we may have their blood on our hands!!"

Jamey's mosh platforms. I like to think of them as they hardcore version of The Liberator.

Mosh Platforms: Jamey had two little platforms that he would stand on, jump off of, etc. I'm guessing that he's eaten shit onstage before from standing on a monitor or whatever only to have it slide out from under his feet. They say necessity is the mother of invention, and I salute Jamey for his innovations in moshing!!

Buy the new Hatebreed album here
Follow Jamey on Twitter


Postscript: More X Breakdowns X 4 U

For more innovations in breakdowns, check out Illinois' Demolisher- so, so fucking brutal! I am doing my best to hype this band so please check them out!

The worst death metal song of all time: Six Feet Under "Amerika The Brutal"

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??"

It turns out that Bad Dudes was right after all.

"You guys are like family to me" (a.k.a. Chapter 1 in my verbose memoirs)

This post is the best example I can give our Human Resources department as to why we need a full-time editor. Just look at this damn thing, it's long. Also, if ever there was clear proof that I can suffer from severe verbal diarrhea, you are reading it right now. This whole post came out of me in a single push, simply as a result of having seen one short YouTube video. Please excuse it's length, and (perhaps) lack of quality.



Earlier this year, my wife and I decided to, for the first time in years, go see some bands play live. Back in the day, my calendar was filled with the likes of Deicide, Malevolent Creation, and other groundbreaking bands like Demolition Hammer and Paradise Lost. Not so these days, which probably comes as a huge surprise to our beloved readers. See, I know that all of you think of me, and the entire Metal Inquisition staff, as the guys who are the first to get to a show, and the first ones to take their shirts of in order to "rule the pit". In my case, at least, nothing could be further from the truth these days. Actually, even back in my metal prime, I would have never been spotted sans-shirt at any metal festivity. So if you're trying to figure out who I am by checking out pictures of the Entombed show in Fort Lauderdale from 1991 in someone's Flickr account, I'll give you a hint: I was the guy with a shirt on. There was only like two of us, and the other guy was in a wheelchair. That dude was such a scenester too.

Anyway...that was then, but little has changed. If anything, thing have gotten a bit worse. See, as I've stated before, my metal tank (if you will) is running on fumes. I largely write about metal in the past tense, and I'm largely interested (if at all) in bands that peaked nearly 20 years ago. As such, seeing live music is not a priority in my life these days. Most of the bands I liked as a kid completely suck now, and most new bands merely sound like third-rate versions of bands I liked earlier in my life. I know that this point of view is dead giveaway of someone who is aging, and thus completely out of it....but I'm telling you the truth. This is how I've always been, prematurely old from the time I was a little kid. Just ask my brother. One time, when I was little (he's four years older than me) he started to tickle me, to the point where I could hardly breathe. I told him to stop, that he HAD to stop. Why? I claimed to have a "heart condition", and I was only four years old...but already concerned about my ailing health. With this in mind, I should tell you that if and when I do see live music (this whole post started with me telling you that my wife and I decided to see some live music...remember?), I constantly find myself wishing the shows would go a little something like this:

- Take public transportation, or drive my car to a safe and walkable neighborhood.
- If driving, park car in a well lit, free and safe parking lot
- Before the show, eat at a reasonably priced restaurant (cloth napkins are a plus)
- Without waiting in line, I walk right in at 7:55pm.
- Band I'm there to see, starts playing at 8:00 pm promptly. No opening bands.
- Songs from the latest record are not played. Songs are played just as on the old records.
- In a smoke free, and climate controlled environment, I enjoy the music without being bothered by sweaty people, and without being touched by strangers who are gross and probably have fleas and bad breath.
- At 9:00 pm to 9:30 pm, I leave the venue and head back home.
- Before 10:00 pm, I get back home and call it a night as I read a fine periodical or book.

THE END


Now that I've told you all this, you probably get a sense for how un-fun of a human being I am, and how rare indeed it would be for me to go see a bunch of bands play in what the youngsters call a "fest", which is exactly what I did. The particular event that my wife and I chose to go to was more of "hardcore fest" variety, where bands that barely anyone cared about back then, got back together to play for a small-ish number of people, who still somehow manage to remember their badly-produced musical output. Was it a horrible idea for us to go? Perhaps, but see...we took it as a chance to travel for a weekend, and see friends in a different city for a couple of days. I wont go into details about the bands or this particular show in general, as it was (at best) a shrug-inducing affair. All of it, that is, except for one detail. This one detail I'm referring to is something I noticed that night, and something I also remember having seen within the world of metal and other horrible subcultures I have been affiliated with. From the stage, aging band members who were once as thin as the mic stands they used as stage props (but now were...well, more like the size of the drum risers), proclaimed that "Everyone in this room is like family to me. All of you. I never had anyone or anything." Over and over again, we heard this general sentiment throughout the night, each band's singer saying it in a more profound manner than the last. Often citing a lack of stability or family life at home, a musical scene had become a family environment for all these angry tattooed fellows on stage. Though metal bands had never actually voiced this feeling in such a straightforward manner, choosing instead to talk about weed, evil, evil weed, or skulls that were evil and smoking weed. Nevertheless, I had heard this from friends many times. Metal was their life, and held a deeper and higher meaning than anything. In absence of religion, many had taken up metal...or punk, or hardcore, or whatever.


As my wife and I left the venue, we both realized that we had enjoyed ourselves, but that we were also greatly at odds (even this many years later) with the people who surrounded us in that venue. I suddenly understood why. Never in my life, had I ever considered members of a certain musical scene or subculture my family. Not once in my life, had I ever thought of everyone who was simply aware of a certain kind of music as my best friend...only because they happened to own the same records as me. Metal, as much as it was a part of my life, and as much as I was involved in it, had never encompassed my entire life. Look, I still have a stack of letters from Richard C of Wild Rags to prove it....I was down. How else would I have yet another stack of letters to me from video trader-extraordinaire Pat (from Hellwitch) dating back to 1990? Wait, are these things I'm telling you to prove I was cool? Hmm, perhaps it will get the reverse effect, so...never mind that. Anyay, I as down...but somehow managed to keep things in check. I don't say this to show I'm somehow superior (if you saw the child-like torso that god granted me, I think you'd quickly see how inferior I am)..I merely bring this up because it strikes me as odd. Why didn't I think of metal as my life, my family, my everything?




The broken homes and awful family circumstances that were talked about endlessly on stage by these performers were foreign to me. Yes, like so many others, during my teenage years I dressed and acted in a manner that made me feel at odds with my parents' views of my future. I unknowingly relished being different, whether that meant wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt at 11 years old, or going to see Deicide at 14 years old while dressing like an extra in a Cypress Hill video. For whatever reason, we all enjoyed this sort of thing (perhaps the friction it created within our tiny universes was satisfying)...but what I never felt was the kind of bond that others speak about when referencing their allegiance to any kind of subculture. I was not above that sort of thing, I just never knew how to make it happen. I loved metal, but somehow the passion others had was always kept at arm's length. Some of those passionate feelings were usually expressed in foolish ways by those around me. One kid in my school took a small eraser and rubbed the Slayer pentagram on his forearm until it was raw. He did this for months, until heavy shoestring-like scar tissue built up around it. He had branded himself for life, and he was merely 15 years old. Another kid around me, after having heard a rumor that Phil Anselmo had died (circa 1991), wore a black armband to school for a solid week. At the time, I'm almost ashamed to admit, I rather liked Pantera. I was even one of those kids that thought Phil Anselmo looked buff and cool in his shirtless pictures (homoerotic, I know..and to top it off, Phil had the muscle definition of a melted bag of marshmellows.) Still, I couldn't bring myself to care all THAT much about the guy having supposedly died. Similarly, many years later I met a woman who told me she had cried uncontrollably for hours upon finding out that the singer Elliot Smith had died. I was amazed. While I completely understand someone's music, or creative output of any kind touching in a profound manner, I can't think of a single person who I don't know personally whose death would make me "cry uncontrolably for hours." These, I thought, were the wackos who cry outside Neverland ranch, the ones who sat outside Kurt Cobain's house after he killed himself. Wacky, half-undone people who are okay to be around for short periods of time...but the type that you would never, ever want to be close to. Why? If that's the reaction they have to someone like Cliff Burton dying, can you imagine what will happen with their uncle or their goldfish die? These are the people who will set themselves on fire (Buddhist monk style) over their second cousin in Iowa getting a cold. Okay, I mean..I get it. They only do it for people who touched them deeply...so they'll only do it for their uncle Earl who touched them in a funny place as kids. I kid, I kid. But seriously folks, what drives people to feel so insanely connected to music? Am I not in touch with my feelings? I don't think I am, not that I'd be a good judge. I've been moved by music and art, architecture and many other stupid things that human beings have created. Music in particular has the ability to change my mood, just like anyone else. To this day, listening to Bloodlet makes me want to physically harm others...just like Agnostic Front used to make me want to lift weights when I was 14. Silly, yes...but this is the human mind we're talking about. Still, I guess I never felt the type of elation that others have experienced. Am I missing out?

Is it just me, or is the mom phoning in her "holding an evil grapefruit" pose?

We were all teenagers once

Did I perhaps have those strong feelings when I was younger? Why didn't I hate my family, and think of the audience at a Malevolent Creation show as my family? This is where the blog turns into a self-help book, so hold on to your balls and your vajay-jays.

Allow me to reminisce (insert harp sounds here). Like any other idiotic teenager, I had mood swings, and subsequently became a complete pain in the ass to be around for some time. I deeply regret my actions during that time, but have slowly come to terms with the fact that I was too stupid to know what I was really doing. Maybe that's just a coping mechanism, something to make me feel better about having hurt those around me...but so be it. Sure, things were tense at home from time to time, and like other families, there was stress for all kinds of reasons at home. I wanted to dress a certain way, for the last few years of the 80s, my wanting to have a mullet alone created huge friction between my mom and me. I mention this to let you know that my family life was perhaps not totally perfect, but how could a teenager (involved in metal or not) be completely at ease with everything in his/her life? As a teenager, you're not supposed to. Like all comming-of-age stories (the real ones, not like the first two seasons of Dawson's Creek or Felicity), that time is supposed to be filled with small bits of conflict, horrible fashion choices and bumps on the road. Being involved in a subculture like metal, however, complicates things a bit since you are expected to completely uphold every decision you made as a young child. People "sell out", "drop out of the scene" or magically become something else. Remember the metal kid who got into hip-hop? The goth kid who suddenly discovered the Grateful Dead? These things happen in life, but are greatly penalized among such subcultures.




So where was I? Oh yes...family stuff. (cue slow, pensive piano music)

So aside from the usual minor bits of conflict...I think I come from a generally stable and sane family. At least for a South American one. In retrospect, I now see that youth is defined by conflict, and in becoming involved within subcultures (musical or not) we were actually able to shape what those conflicts were. We were, in a sense, picking our own poison. What a rare treat, odd as it may sound, to get to partially control one big aspect of your life. Like babies, crying for attention, we all begged for conflict by wearing a certain shirt from a certain band home...or whatever it was that drove our parents crazy. It's for this reason that I feel a bit sad when I still see men in the late thirties or even forties, wearing those horrible bondage pants and Craddle Of Filth shirts. I see them standing there, grown toddlers asking the world to look their way. Sorry if that sounds extremely judgmental on my part, but that's what I see.




But back to make-shift teenage rebellion. In controlling the points where we would encounter friction, we had control over at least one thing, at a time when it felt like we controlled nothing (wah, wah, wah.) Perhaps as a result, some start to feel even more attachment to a certain type of music or artist. The world is against them, no one understands, so on and so forth. This is how it starts, and next thing you know, you're crying because Vinny Daze from Demolition Hammer died.



As kids, we often found ourselves testing new ground, and largely sniffing around trying to find our way through life. Such an adventure, at such a young age, is bound to have conflict and some light turmoil. In retrospect, most of that conflict and turmoil seems silly now...but at that age, they were some of the biggest issues we had dealt with in life. Still, although life wasn't perfect, I never hated my family...and I never felt such allegiance to a group (one largely made up of strangers) as a result. From a young age, I loved metal and went on to love and devote most of my life and energy into other musical "scenes" (typing that makes me dry-heave, as I'm still weary of "scenes" and "cultures"). Yes, I played in bands, booked shows, I put out horrible zines, did awful one-man side projects. Through all of that, however, I still knew that this was just something that I loved doing, but it was never my whole life. Music was never my family, nor was it my entire existence. Somehow, things were always in focus for me, a substantial accomplishment when you consider that so few things were ever in focus for me through those years. In a way, these groups of people became huge influences in my life, largely for the better. Through music, I began to shape my political views...hell, it even helped me shape ideas regarding what I eat and don't eat (which is downright insane). But through all this, somehow, in the back of my mind things were kept in check. My family and my close friends were just that...and those involved with music who I was not close to, were just people who were also into the same music I was into. No more, no less.





When I think about this general subject, a certain person from my past comes to mind, his name was Bob. Bob was an elderly and very kind man. Bob, although clearly not well-off monetarily, dressed in an impeccable manner for someone his age. His dark pants were always perfectly pressed, as were his white dress shirts, which he always covered partially with similarly well cared-for cardigan sweaters. Bob's hair was perfectly white, as were his large and orderly fake teeth. We both worked at a suburban telemarketing company in the mid 90s, and often spent our breaks talking in order to pass the time. Bob had never fully retired, and continued to work in order to help his pregnant grandaughter who was now living with him and wife. Everyday after work, a beat-up Impala would pull up while creating a large cloud of smoke. Behind the wheel was a tiny young girl, the grandaughter, who looked to be thirteen at most. The girl sported oversized doorknocker earrings, and constantly kept her lips puckered as a clear sign of anger. While tugging at the drawstrings of her San Jose Sharks jacket, the young girl would bark out, "Well, get in already!" Tough words for an elderly grandfather, who had just finished another seven hour shift for her benefit. Bob would kindly shrug as he looked at us, as to say "Kids these days... you know how they are". He would then head into the car, and the Impala would drive off in another cloud of smoke. It made me sad to see how a man his age, who was working to help this girl, was being treated. Bob wanted to retire, he often told me so. He didn't want to keep making calls to strangers, none of us did, but he had to. He would keep working in this nondescript suburban office park until the end of his days, and that made me sad to no end. During one of our break-room conversations, Bob once asked me if I had thought about getting my own headset for work. The headset being perhaps the most crucial and necessary accoutrement in a telemarketer's arsenal. Bob had noticed how fastidiously I cleaned the headset I was given by our shift manager each day, using any and all anti-bacterial substances I could get my hands on. "You should think about it" Bob said, "I got mine thirteen years ago, and I'm always happy I have it with me". Something suddenly occurred to me...I hadn't bought myself my very own Plantronics headset, as others had, simply because I was broke at the time, which I certainly was. There was another reason. I had not bought my own, because I knew that once I bought one, I would be there, doing that job for thirteen years...just as Bob had. This, I told myself, was a job...not a career. If you'll excuse the vapid and cheesy wording...the thin wire on that headset would surely serve as a noose, and would keep me tethered to that damn building for life. Soon, an angry teenager would be picking me up, as my fake teeth rattled in anger. So I realized, we were different, Bob and I, and not just because of our age. Whereas Bob bought small gifts for our shift managers around Christmas, and aimed to make his workstation feel a bit more like home, I tried as hard as possible to do the opposite. I needed that job, I needed the money...but I was not there for life. My relationship with musical scenes was a bit similar. I was getting my share of entertainment, friendships and fun out of it ...but at the same time, seeing old timers who would often crow about having seen Metallica "back in 83", and had no other accomplishments in their life since, scared me. I didn't want to be that guy, in the same way that I really didn't want to buy the headset. I didn't want the Slayer pentagram in my arm, I never wanted to invest too heavily...all in fear of that Impala and the angry teenage bitch behind the wheel.





As the years go by, and I no longer earn a living as a telemarketer, but I have come to realize that many of my close friends today are people I met (in one way or another) through music. So, there is no doubt that music, and the culture around it, has played a large role in my life. A huge one, actually. And yet, to look out at an audience of one or ten thousand people (as so many have) and proudly say "you are all my family", sounds like one of the most whacked out, unstable things anyone can say out loud to me. What I hear in those words are the feelings of unstable adults, adults with sizable issues that will probably make them a real chore to be around. I hear the words of an adult tantruming, unable to see which way is up. I say this, knowing that all of us have difficulties in life, from time to time. But voicing it in such a way, is simply astounding due to it's revelatory nature.

Remember in Decade Of Aggression, when Tom Araya says "if you see someone go down, help them back up. That's what we're here to do...help each other out...okay?" When I heard that, I just want to turn to the speaker and say, "Tom, you stupid idiot...have you met your fans? Do you really think the toothless meth head is helping anyone? It's a nice sentiment and all...but the only thing that unites us all is listening to Slayer...which is a pretty thin and pathetic unifying bond when you get down to it." Even as a young teenager, I had this mindset. Honestly. Look, I was not then, nor am I now, the most self-aware human being...and yet, I could smell that pile of nasty doo-doo from miles away. Metal, Slayer, Pantera, Kiss, Flotsam and Jetsam, Prong, Nocturnus....none of these things were ever and will never by "my whole life dude." My life, is my life...one that I try to live as happily as I can, devoid of "metal running through my veins."

So don't feel offended when I tell you that all of you are not my family (I'm sure you're all in tears as a result of that statement, since you're ALL such huge fans)...as a matter of fact I know I would dislike most of you in person...much like you'd dislike me as well. And that's cool. Perhaps we share some points of view, we both know about Forbidden's live EP and how stupid that Judas Priest cover was...these are very general commonalities. So, regardless of what Madball songs may say about how we're all "brothers." We're not. Sorry Roger Miret, but how can we be not only "united" but also "strong", when I can't stand 90% of the people who share my musical taste?

So why on earth did I write this long (unfunny) post about this subject? Why did I suddenly turn this blog into a self-help forum? Why am I willingly setting myself up to get made fun of and/or ridiculed by our readers? Really, it's all because of the video below...which I found to be pretty funny. I know that the "Heavy Metal Parking Lot" angle has now been done to death...but there are some funny gems within this one. The part that got my attention the most, is the first interview, which features two shirtless drunks. Aside from sounding a bit like wanna-be wrestlers, they begin to express the "this is my family", and "metal runs in my blood" sentiment I'm referring to. I know this is merely the mumblings of two drunks, but its the thing that got me thinking about all this. Oh, and note the bearded guy with the Morbid Angel shirt who may or may not be dead during the taping of this video. After having seen Weekend At Bernies, you can never be too sure. Is this video Exhibit C in the trial against white America? Perhaps. Enjoy.





Could this be the post that made the blog jump the shark? Hope not. But like one BSNYC wisely says "that shark is not going to jump itself".

Precious Metal: A Winner Is You

A while ago, we ran a contest to win a copy of Decibel's new homage to Word's edit menu, "Precious Metal." At long last, we have a winner- reader John Daly, who posted the following review of the book- keep in mind that he has not yet actually read the book:

I have read this book, as Decibel "Hall of Fame" entries. I'm not digging through the moldy magazines in my bathroom just to win new copies of the same articles. But I wouldn't mind robbing the prize from someone who wants it, so here's a review off the top of my head:

Is it too late to change the title? "Precious Metal"???

Picking "Heaven and Hell" as the first Black Sabbath album enshrined was the smart move, like siding with Barzini was the smart move for Tessio. We all know how well that worked out.

"Lightning to the Nations" crushed me the first time I heard it. Crushed me with disapointment, that is. However, as I get closer to 40, I find myself enjoying Diamond Head more than Metallica.

"Reign in Blood" gets a pass for the pointing goat guy on the cover, although it's not as good as "Show No Mercy" or "Haunting the Chapel". One of many album covers that benefited from being shrunk down to cassette size.

"Scum". Is it possible to put only one side of an album in the Hall of Fame?

Repulsion, Morbid Angel, Obituary, and Entombed could have been combined into one "history of Death Metal" article, making room for Carnivore's "Retaliation", Sodom's "Persecution Mania", Holy Terror's "Mind Wars" and C.O.C's "Animosity". Now it's too late, Chris Witchhunter is dead.

If I was going to honor Carcass, "Necroticism" would the last place pick- their "Dimension Hatross"; a middle of the road record that doesn't have the balls to be gay.

A friend made me a copy of that Paradise Lost album years ago. I still haven't listened to it.

Cannibal Corpse? I know it's an extreme metal magazine, but I think the guys at Decibel listen to too much death metal. What's next- an Incantation Hall of Fame?

"Take as Needed for Pain"- I'm 100% behind this. Some guy screaming about kill your mother while the band bangs on their instruments. This is what my middle school classmates thought I listened to when I wore an Iron Maiden shirt.

I assume Darkthrone made the cut because it was easy to get the interviews. Even so, "A Blaze in the Northern Sky" was the proper choice.

I saw Kyuss accidentally in the early 1990s. Now I use that information on record store clerks.

Speaking of record store clerks, one of them tried to play me Meshuggah once. I got out of there fast.

I read a good Monster Magnet interview about banging groupies. I'm not sure it was in Decibel, though. It reminds me of Kurt Brecht's "Whore Stories" book at the D.R.I. merch table. If only that book had served as the template for D.R.I.'s post-hardcore lyrical direction. Instead we got "Gun Control".

The singer for At The Gates gave the "metalhead nod" once. I like him. He seems like the kind of harmless 90s dude who would play bass for Snapcase or something.

A friend once planned on driving two hours by himself to see Opeth. Fearing for his mental health, I accompanied him to make sure nothing happened.

"NOLA" On paper it sounds great. A grunge band with the singer for Pantera and the guy who ruined C.O.C.

OK- I can't lie- I like this record.

"Nightside Eclipse"- once again, Decibel picks the catalog entry that I would have chosen last. Maybe it's me.

I've never listened to Dillinger Escape Plan or Botch. I know DEP is a real band, but "Botch" seems like a name you would make up if you were making fun of 90s hardcore.

A coworker played me "Jane Doe" and it wasn't as bad as expected. When I saw them, however, they succumbed to the failings common to artists of their generation.

Nitro's Hall of Fame status is undisputed, but I wonder what the guy who wrote the "100 Greatest Metal Guitarists" book thinks of them. I'm not going to read his book until he accepts that Yngwie Malmsteen's music is heavy metal. Questions about quality aside, if "I am a Viking" isn't metal, then what is?

Meat Shits- I'm pretty sure this is a mistake. Chad Smith's band is called the Meat Bats.

John, please send us your address and we will have the folks at Da Capo send you a copy pronto!

Riff salad cookoff 2K9

I'm not sure why, but for some reason metal fans (and especially metal musicians) fetishize technique like Mortiis slurping on a stinky toe. It's as though a band is only as good as the number of notes they play per second. This isn't a new phenomenon, but as the bar gets raised higher and higher, it leads to what we like to call "riff salad," or albums that might as well be a collection of blindingly fast, yet incredibly boring, riffs thrown into a Salad Shooter and spit out the other end, topped with a sprinkling of Willowtip logos. With that in mind, we decided to have a cookoff at our Mid-Atlantic Innovation Center to find out who has the best recipe for riff salad (or worst, as the case may be)! We will rate them on a scale of 1 to 10 Unique Leader logos, with 10 being the ultimate in riff salad.

They got access to the Nocturnus cloning machine and made two copies of the douchelord in the middle.

Deeds of Flesh
Let's start with the inventors of this wretched genre. Once upon a time, Deeds were a great band. I loved the first EP and "Trading Pieces." The drummer for Odious Sanction gave me a cassette dub of it in 1997 and it not-so-gradually melted my 19 year old brain. Those records were super technical, yet also really catchy, with good songwriting. But then came "Inbreeding The Anthropophagi" or whatever the fuck it's called, I'm not looking it up. They traded their once-sick riffs for non-stop tremolo picking and double bass. I looked at the sky and said, to borrow a phrase, "Sir, have I wronged you in some way??" Whatever the case may have been, Deeds had officially jumped the shark and created the dull, lifeless genre known as riff salad. Subsequent albums just got worse and worse. You can just feel the energy leave the room when you put on "Path of the Weakening," and "Reduced to Ashes" reduced me to napping.
Verdict: 9/10 Unique Leader logos

Invisible oranges? Check. Fat guy with a goatee and shaved head? Check. If it looks like a duck...

Origin
When the self-titled Origin record came out back in 1999, it ripped my face completely off my skull. I still listen to it pretty regularly, largely for the unique drumming and strange song structures. It sort of sounds like if you took a death metal band and threw them down the stairs while they were playing- in a good way. I especially like "Vomit You Out." Sadly, though, all their other records are the most boring of boring shit that ever bored! It's just one long blast with the tweedly sweep picking or whatever over it, which is a real shame considering how groundbreaking and original their first record was. Although all copies of their newer records should be buried in a landfill like all those unsold copies of "ET" for Atari 2600, the self-titled one is so excellent that I am going to give them a relatively modest riff salad ranking. Also, it's Valentine's Day and I think I have a Valentine, so I'm feeling nice.
Verdict: 7/10 Unique Leader logos

This reminds me of those displays of high school senior photos that you see at the mall where the kid is holding his baseball mitt or whatever.

Dragonforce
I'm switching it up a bit here but venturing outside the world of death metal. But just because these guys don't have "tion" or "ment" in their name doesn't mean they aren't riff salad! Their songs are as Salad Shooter as it gets, only the kids like them because they are all about castles and white pride. Also, they were in Guitar Hero- but so what? Kim Wilde is in Singstar and you don't see the kids on her jock. In any case, I like a little fantasy metal here and there: sometimes after a rough day at work I'll draw a bubble bath, light some candles and relax while I bust Rhapsody on the Bose Wave CD player. But let's be honest, this shit sucks. This band is a dumb cartoon and they play too many fucking notes. The last part is the real problem, because I like plenty of bands that are dumb cartoons (Cynic, for example).
Verdict: 6/10 Unique Leader logos

This is from when Decrepit Birth was the most ass-ripping brutal death metal band on the face of the earth. What happened?! Why did you succumb to the siren song of Florideath?!

Decrepit Birth
Are you seeing a trend here?? Once great band loses focus, gets too far up their own asses and turns into riff salad? Decrepit Birth is perhaps the most tragic case of them all. "And Time Begins" is, without question, a game-changing classic that is without equal. I think I speak for everybody when I say that I felt like I got raped by a profoundly retarded baboon with AIDS when I heard that record (in a good way!). It still stands as the most over-the-top execution of the Suffocation formula, or more precisely the early Deeds of Flesh formula. But then they listened to Cynic and Atheist too much and turned into riff salad on their second album!!! Rather than try to use my own crude language to describe the feelings of betrayal that tore my heart into pieces, I will capture my anguish with the lyrics to "Stabbed In The Back" by Youth of Today:

We were brothers you and me loyal to our hardcore brutal death metal scene
our thought our aims our goals were true
then something happened to you you changed
stabbed in the back
I remember all the things that you said
shit you said
I guess it was just a bunch of lies
fucking lies
stabbed us all in the back
right in the back
don't you dare look me in the eyes
all we stood for, all our dreams you've forgotten what they mean
I tell you this my thoughts are real and I'll never change the way I feel

Verdict: 7/10 Unique Leader logos

Every riff salad band looks like this! What is it with the fucking goatees?! The Nazi-looking dude in the bomber jacket obviously dies his- Hitler would be disgusted.

The guy in the jacket sort of reminds me of Gene Hoglan's Balls! I'm sure he will disagree, though. He would never wear that.

Odious Mortem
Gene Hoglan's Balls loves this band. Maybe I would have too when I was 14 and just wanted to hear bands play as fast as they could with no regard for songwriting or dynamics. But I'm not 14 anymore so listening to the singer go "Grrrr grrrr!!" and the rest of the band go "Skronk skronk blast blast!!" just makes me want to run to the catchy grooves of Cock and Ball Torture or Dead. As these bands go, they're pretty good, but that's like saying it's better than a sharp stick in the eye, you know? Plus they're on Willowtip, which means they're not as ignorant as I'd like them to be. I'm pretty sure that dude grew up on hardcore so he's too smart to put out good death metal. If he was a real metaller he'd sign Gorevent and Disconformity. He's probably too busy jamming Abnegation and Green Rage for that, though.
Verdict: 8/10 Unique Leader logos

wat

Cryptopsy
The first two Cryptopsy records are fucking classics of brutal, yet super catchy and all around awesome death metal. They sound just as good today as they did 15 years ago or whenever the fuck they came out. Then they got rid of Lord Worm and started to practice their instruments too much or something, and became an extremely boring, overly technical riff salad band that forgot how to write songs. If only that was the end of the story, though! Now they are a pseudo-deathcore band so shitty that even I, the man with absolutely no standards, can't tolerate listening to them for more than a single second before I claw at the nearest sharp object and jam it in my eardrums. They managed to make it into an even bigger shit sandwich by putting on retarded Lacuna Coil-style latex JNCOs with excessive buckles and straps. Dudes, you're in your fucking mid 30s!! You can't do that shit! So yeah, their new crap makes me yearn for their riff salad days!
Verdict: 7/10 Unique Leader logos

Erik Rutan and John Tardy apparently go to the same barber/wig store

Hate Eternal
They may not have invented riff salad, but they definitely fucking perfected it!! Holy shit this band is boring!!! The most interesting thing this band ever recorded is the explosion at the beginning of "Conquering The Throne." Actually I really like that one instrumental song "The Faceless Ones," because it sounds like they took a few minutes to think about writing an actual song, rather than just firing up the Salad Shooter. I honestly have no idea how you could keep a band like this together for 12 fucking years. I can see how it would be kind of fun to spend a weekend with your friends goofing around and playing some crazy riff salad just to get it out of your system, but make a career out of it?! I'd rather be toiling away in the salt mines of Blue Grape with Guav and Buske, dreaming about how we'll make it big when we bring back Cabal 315!! Anyway, Hate Eternal wins our riff salad cookoff! Yay them! They get a gold star.
Verdict: 10/10 Unique Leader logos

Metal Inquisition invades Metal Injection's Tr00 and False

We are happy to announce a new weekly addition to Metal Inquisition's output. We have taken over Metal Injection's weekly Tr00 & False column, in which we review the week in metal and tell you which way is up. Please point your browser to Metal Injection and worship at our feet.

Click here for Tr00 & False

Follow us on Twitter
On a related note, if you are not following us on Twitter, please throw yourself on a sword. Failing that, just sign up for Twitter and start reading our hilarious tweets!

Click here for Metal Inquisition on Twitter

Relapse roundup winter 09

I think I posted this before, but I'm too lazy to look through 400+ posts to find it. But when I was like 14, I got the "Corporate Death" compilation that Relapse put out and pretty much loved every song. That's how starved for metal I was back then, I was thrilled to listen to fucking Exit-13 and Convulse! Oh and I thought the pictures of their "headquarters" and boardroom were real (seriously, I did).

Of course, now I'm far too jaded to get excited about anything new (unless it's Forever The Sickest Kids or Gut doing rap songs). I'd rather just sit in my room and listen to Life of Agony and think about how bitter I am at the world. In any case, Relapse has always been kind to me since my zine days back in the mid 90s, so I thought we would give you the lowdown on some of their new releases. More to come in a future post, I can only review so much crap at once!


Mumakil - Behold the Failure
I don't like grind, so I didn't listen to this album for more than about 45 seconds. If you are into grind I'm sure you will like this, it sounds like Nasum with pretty sick drumming that reminds me of the first Origin record. But since I really couldn't care less about the music, I'll base my judgment on how the members of the band look.

He's even playing an ESP! Page Hamilton should sue him for exploiting his likeness. He's trying to rock back and forth like in the video for "Unsung."

The guitarist looks like Page Hamilton circa 1992. I love Helmet, and I always thought it was cool that they dressed like dorks while everybody else was rocking either grunge gear or JNCOs and chain wallets. That said, this guy needs to get with the program and ditch the Dockers shorts (and the braided leather belt that comes free with them).

Look at his stubby, sausage-like fingers, ick.

Unfortunately the Page Hamilton clone is paired with a gross beardo on vocals. Whenever I see guys like this I always assume the band sounds like Isis, Drowningman, or Hara Kiri-style "beardeath" (thanks for that term, Mo). In any of those cases, DO NOT WANT. I imagine this guy going on tour, gorging himself at Arby's and just destroying the bathroom at the house they stay at after the show. Look, you can't help it if you're born thick, but do you have to make matters worse by growing a disgusting neck beard??

Mumakil MySpace
Verdict: 6/10 bloody axes



Inevitable End - The Severed Inception
The cover made me think this band would sound like Damageplan, with some goatteed, shaven-headed fat guy singing with a terminal case of Robb Flynn's Disease. Or, since they're on Relapse, perhaps Tommy Victor's Disease.

I don't know the name for the terrible disease the singer suffers from, but he needs a doctor pronto!

Anyhow, I also only listened to this one for literally 10 seconds, but I think I got a pretty good idea of what to expect. Basically this is the sort of thing that would have given me a giant boner in 1999 or 2000 when I was super into Atheist, Cynic, (later) Broken Hope, Oppressor, Origin, Dillinger Escape Plan, and pretty much any other over-the-top-guitar-masturbation shredding technical death metal. Back then there weren't a ton of these bands around, so when they did come along it was pretty awesome. The exact opposite is true now, of course. Every 16 year old can shred his balls off, with the YouTube videos to prove it (it took me seriously like 4 seconds to find that, there are zillions more just like it).

Much like the athletes of today would wipe the floor with the guys from even 20 years ago, it's hilarious how amateurish and shitty the bands I grew up on sound today. I mean we thought Morbid Angel were amazing virtuosos, and even a B-level band that I've never heard of like Inevitable End can play rings around those guys without even trying. Of course, that doesn't mean I want to listen to them, but you know what I mean. Try listening to, say, Rottrevore these days. They seriously sound like something from a 10th grade talent show.

Anyhow, if you're into non-stop, balls-out shredding deathcore, you'll jizz over this for sure. I'll be jamming some Obituary if you need me.

Inevitable End MySpace
Verdict: 7/10 bloody axes


16 - Bridges to Burn
Now this is more like it!! There are few bands that I love more than 16 (along with their sister bands Despise You and Crom). I could write a review of it, but instead I'll just copy and paste an email I got from Gene Hoglan's Balls in which he mentioned it:

most porn stars don't make much, especially if you're a dude, but a top billing star like riley mason had to be making at least 5-10K a film. granted, that's still not that much money for sucking off and fucking random strangers, but i'm sure it's a lot more than she would have made had she stayed in north carolina, gone to community college, and worked at forever 21 in the local mall.

i have not seen adrenna lynn's butthole, but i would like to. the idea of tattooing your butthole is kind of brilliant. i don't even understand how it's possible, but i want to see it and i applaud her for going all out and making a real statement of individuality instead of just getting a shamrock on her pelvis.

i wasn't too into the new 16 album when i first heard it, but the more i listen to it the more i'm feeling it. there are few bands that can make the phrase "life sucks" sound so meaningful. i've also been listening to a lot of crowbar. there's nothing like overweight dirtbags telling you they've given you all they have to give over heavy as fuck riffs to help get you through those cold winter days.

you should definitely try to come out to REDACTED whenever you can. you're more than welcomed to crash at my place (i have a couch that folds out into a full-sized bed). we'll bro down like it's nobody's biz. we can watch the danzig home video, pound brews, chug some red bulls, blast some push-ups, and oogle hot babes. also, if you're not doing anything super bowl weekend REDACTED and i are driving out to REDACTED to watch the game. i think REDACTED might even be coming out. even if you don't care about football, it's worth it just for the spectacle. i was there when the steelers won the super bowl in '06 and it was fucking pandemonium.

Anyway, that's about all there is to say about 16. This record fucking rules. It's out now, and if you don't buy it you're a poser that's too happy. If you liked their old shit, this is just like it only with better production. There's nothing better to listen to when you're feeling old, bitter, broken-down and spiteful, which for me is pretty much 100% of the time!


Verdict: 9/10 bloody axes

What is the wackest subgenre of metal?

If you listen to Dream Theater, you are this guy.

Prog
Let's start with an easy target. Why is it that technically skilled musicians choose to play such awful music? (I'm looking at you, Dave Weckl) Look, I like Cynic, Atheist and Watchtower as much as the next guy, but I have to call it like I see it. Metal is full of socially awkward weirdos that exist in their own, bizarre world and have no idea how to interact with human beings, but prog fans are misfits even among this motley crew of losers. It is very impressive that you can play Mekong Delta's entire catalog on your Chapman Stick, but it would be even more impressive if you had the courage to throw yourself on a sword and salvage what little is left of your dignity.

Coming soon to Hydra Head

Stoner Rock
There are two kinds of people who listen to stoner rock: Beardos and old guys with jean vests. Both suck. It is the heavy metal equivalent of rockabilly or ska: a kitschy costume party that couldn't possibly be more contrived and phony. To the beardos, I say that your ironic bandana is about as cool as a pompadore and those dumb rolled-up jeans, and you're certainly not fooling anyone. For the old dudes, I simply ask that you please shut up. Who will help me drive a stake through the black heart of this wretched genre?

This man is the brains behind Explosive Dickhole

One-man MySpace drum machine grindcore
Noisecore is one thing, but one-man MySpace drum machine grindcore (OMMSDMGC) is another. Much as computers ruined graphic design by unleashing desktop publishing on the world, technology also destroyed music by making music-creation tools so cheap that any asshole with fetal alcohol syndrome and a Putrid Pile shirt can and does make a OMMSDMGC project. You know that a band is absolutely fucking terrible if they make you long for the rigorous quality control practices of 7 Minutes of Nausea or the Meatshits.

Wigger slam
Obviously this is not the answer. I only put it in here to see if you were paying attention!

Pantera cover band or brutal death metal? You be the judge.

Brutal death metal
Let's be honest, this shit fucking sucks! If I ever hear another tremolo riff again, it will be too soon, to say nothing of the endless, repetitive blast beats that fill the Unique Leader catalog. Seriously, could there be anything more dull than Deeds of Flesh, Hate Eternal or Vital Remains? Now that I think about it, Vital Remains might be the most boring band in the history of music. And I would rather chop off my asshole with a machete than listen to Krisiun for even a single second. Someone, please invent a device that will incinerate the legions of BDM douchelords with shaved heads, goatees, and Immolation shirts.

What's your take?
I covered a few obvious targets but I am sure there are many that I missed. What is your take? What is the wackest subgenre of metal in your book?