Winds of Plague & Terror bring wigger black metalcore to the Bluegrass State

This is what hardcore shows look like in Kentucky.

I somehow found myself in Covington, Kentucky this Sunday for a metalcore show featuring Winds of Plague, Emmure, Terror, All Shall Perish, The Ghost Inside, and some Christian moshcore bands whose names I forget.

"If you smoke near my merch I will karate chop you into a million pieces. Faggot."

Moshcore rednecks don't like the gays
The first thing I noticed was how much people at this show liked to say "faggot." I'm far from the PC police: I love the GG Allin, Meat Shits, Gut, Necro, and all kinds of random goregrind/pornogrind. Even with nearly 20 years of sleazy grindcore under my belt, I have to admit I was kind of shocked to see the word "faggot" twice at this show, and even more shocked that nobody seemed to care.

"God said you're a faggot."

The Mystery Method: it' not just for chicks!
I'm a big fan of the VH1 show The Pickup Artist, in which a douchelord named "Mystery" teaches a bunch of nerds how to become master pickup artists. The methodology they use is called "The Mystery Method," and while it is definitely more than a little ridiculous, it works! I've used it with great success to chat up hot, crazy chicks over the past few months. The basic concepts are simple: you use an opening line (called a "gambit") to break the ice with a group of people (a "set"). From there, you employ a variety of techniques to keep the conversation going and move toward closing the deal. For example, you attempt to gain the upper hand by playfully criticizing the target (called "throwing negs"). You might also DHV (demonstrate higher value) by telling them you have to leave in a minute (an "FTC," false time constraint). You look for IOIs (indicators of interest), and if you don't see them, roll off (stop talking to the set). There are tons of other concepts, but you get the idea.

Mystery compares meeting women to playing the 12th level of a video game without being able to save

Anyway, I've been seeing this girl and things are going well, so I'm turning my attention from chicks to making more friends that are dudes. The great thing about the Mystery Method is that it works with any group of strangers, not just the ladies! For example, I saw a three set of old hardcore dudes standing near me, and deployed my gambit. "Hey," I asked, "you guys look old and tired like me, how late is this show supposed to last?" I took it from there, looking for IOIs and threading to new material accordingly, and before long I had three new friends. Say what you want, but shows aren't just for moshing and scamming on dumb scene girls- you can actually make friends there too!

For example, I still remember when Lucho and I met back in 1998 while we were both working the door at a show in Columbus, Ohio. Gene Hoglan's Balls and I met at some show in New Jersey in the 00s, and while I don't remember exactly when, I also met Awakening (the jerk who never posts anymore) at a show in 1997 or 1998.

Speaking of dumb scene girls, though, I ran into the daughter from the mom/daughter combo at the Brokencyde show the other week. I made eye contact with her from across the bar, giving her one of those "shame on you" kind of looks that a school teacher would give you while looking over their glasses. She got really nervous and scurried away.

Merch guy's away message while he sang Ezec's part in "Spit My Rage": Sup? Wah... Gone moshing for Terror. Back before the end of the set!

Terror
I went to this show with my friend from work who knows absolutely nothing about hardcore, but used to live with one of the guys from Terror by coincidence. We asked the merch guy if Doug was around, and he explained that he had just quit the band, got fired from his job at some mail order place, and was working as a doorman at some bar (I'm guessing the Hemlock). I bought a "Suffer to Return Harder" shirt and thought about how awesome it would look on me at the gym.



Scott Vogel was in tremendous form that night, with some great Vogelisms. Two gems: "We are not a rock band. We are not cool. We are fucked up kid just like everyone in this room." "We're all here for the same thing, whether we are black, white, or brown. Dick. Pussy." I also remembered that Scott used to date/fuck my neighbor when I lived in Cleveland about 10 years ago, so I told the merch guy, "Hey, tell Scott that a girl named J**** H******* is here and wants to talk to him." Anyway, they played all my favorite songs like "One With The Underdogs" and "Spit My Rage," and if I wasn't about to go hang out the previously-mentioned girl, I would have moshed my balls off. I didn't want to either get too sweaty or get punched in the mouth or something because that would inhibit my ability to make out.

Amazing lyrics: "Busters fall down when we're barking commands. Atlas ain't got shit on our steez."

Winds of Plague & Emmure
I was hoping to interview Winds of Plague for this post, but the press guy at Century Media blew me off and wouldn't return my calls. Anyway, I left before they played because I was in a hurry to see that hipster hottie. I kinda wanted to see them, but it was getting kinda late, and as much as I like their brand of moshcore... if you saw her you would understand. I finished off the last of my drink and bounced- but hopefully I'll get a chance to catch Winds of Plague this summer.

Music to Kill Yourself By, Part II

Not to get too personal, but last Wednesday at 10:13 PM Eastern Daylight Time my girlfriend broke up with me. This after I made out with, fingered, and got a blowjob from one of her co-workers in a bathroom during her sister's birthday party the weekend prior. So she had plenty of reason to do so. Now that the faint smell of strange tang has faded from my fingers I have come to realize the error of my ways and greatly regret doing what I did, but it's too late. All that's left to do now is sink into an alcohol and pill fueled depression. Here's what I'll be listening to as I try not to feed my head to a wood chipper.





Crowbar - Time Heals Nothing
This song pretty much sums up Crowbar's entire career. Oppressively heavy, musically and lyrically, this song is a constant reminder of the futility of living. What's the point of living when you've got nothing to live for?

Saint Vitus - Dying Inside
I can't think of any other song that more accurately describes how I feel right now. Take a listen, and pay close attention to the lyrics.





Alice in Chains - Dirt
If you needed some extra motivation or inspiration to take your life, I'd suggest listening to this album, ASAP. Layne Staley took his life with a monster speedball, but not before leaving us with this masterpiece of depression. Never before has intravenous drug use sounded like such an appealing way to end the pain.



Eyehategod - Everything
Complete and total negativity. A bunch of strung out, fucked up junkies basically taunting you, cheering you on as you end it all. Go ahead, do it. You'll be happier, and no one will miss you.

Amy Winehouse - Back to Black
No fucking joke, this album kills me. It's an endless parade of misery. Song after song about failed relationships and substance abuse all wrapped up in a nice, glossy poppy package. Except that Amy can actually sing and all of the songs are legitimately heartbreaking. Their seriousness is only reaffirmed by the endless media coverage of Amy's legendary meltdowns which include beating up her fans, getting beaten up by her boyfriend, and smoking crack. For someone that's only 25, Amy has done some serious hard living.

Black Flag - Nothing Left Inside
If anyone understand my pain, it's Henry Rollins. The undisputed king of manfeelings, Hank knows what it's like to have loved and lost. This song, and the whole album, is one of the purest expressions of anger, frustration, and pain I've ever heard. When you're close to the edge all it takes is Hank bellowing "NOOOOOOOTTTHHHHINNG LEFFFTTTT INNSSSIIIIIIDDEEEE!!" to make you want to jump.

Roy Orbison - Everything
I fucking defy you to listen to "In Dreams" or "Crying" when depressed and not reach for a sharp object. There's just something about Roy's voice and the words he sings that make my heart drop and my chest tighten. Maybe it had to do with the amount of tragedy he experienced. His first wife died in a motorcycle accident and two of his five sons died in a housefire. That's a lot of heavy shit to go through and though he didn't end his own life he certainly makes me want to end mine when I listen to his music.




Chris Isaak - Forever Blue
If a good looking dude like Chris Isaak can't even hold onto a lady, then what hope does a regular schlub like me have? This album is relentless misery. Tale after tale of love lost. It's really hard to listen to after a while, especially if you're trying to get over having lost someone yourself. I mean, Christ, if you were banging this chick and she left wouldn't you want to end it all?

Buzzoven - Sore
See Eyehategod.

G.G. Allin - Freaks, Faggots, Drunks, and Junkies
A God among men, G.G. is legendary for practicing what he preached. How many men with penises the size of a baby's pinky would flaunt that shit like they were packing a magnum? Only a troubled genius like GG could write such unforgettable songs as "Die When You Die," "Commit Suicide," and "I Wanna Kill You." Only an angel, too beautiful for this world, could pen the following lines:

If you're listening to this song
And everything is going wrong
Take a chance on the other side
Let's go over the edge

Fuck the pigs, fuck the folks
Death is where it's at
Use a gun, use a knife
Take some pills, take your life

Slit your throat, slit your wrists
Go over the edge

INXS - Never Tear Us Apart
Autoerotic asphyxiation. That's some way to go.




Lady Gaga - Just Dance
I actually like this song, but it was stuck in my head for two days last week and it reminds me of my ex-girlfriend so whenever I hear it now I want to die, immediately. Please, indulge yourself.

That's all for now, ladies and gentlemen. I've got a noose to tie. See you on the other side!

We need to buy Tom G Warrior a new jacket

I like to help the less fortunate. When I see a lost dog, I take it home and make posters to find its owner. When I have leftovers from a restaurant, I give them to the homeless man on the street who has just soiled himself. I can't help myself, it's a part of who I am. I can identify those who are in need, and quickly come up with a plan to help them out. Many who live in the western hemisphere worry about those who are hungry in Africa, those who struggle with poverty in Central America...but they often ignore the less fortunate who are often right at their doorstep. Who am I talking about? I'm talking about Tom G Warrior. You see, it's at this time of year that my wife and I decide what charities we will give to, and while doing research online I found the most worthy cause of all...a new jacket for Tom G. Now, I know what you are saying "Hey what about the starving children?" Well, I must ask you "what about Tom G?" Mr. Warrior has given us all so much (let's not forget that amazing track Cherry Orchards ) so why shouldn't we give back? It was a similar concern that forced me to bring up how badly Dan Lilker needs a new pose for pictures. But back to dear Tom, please look at these pictures, some of which date back to 2005! The man has been wearing the same horrible motorcycle jacket for years!













We must act now! Time is of the essence! Please, send all your money via PayPal to Metal Inquisition along with what type of jacket you think we should buy for Tom. Here are the choices.


This would be a fantastic choice, due to its versatility. Everyday I see young black kids who are hella' hip-hop wearing these. Who would have thought that a Nascar jacket would appeal to hip hop audiences? If it's good enough for them, why not Tom G?



Again, a little hip hop never did anyone any harm. These were kinda' popular back when Tom started wearing his current leather jacket, so he'd feel right at home in one of these.


Who would have thought that Members Only jackets would make a comeback? I guess all is fair in love and war, and ironic fashion. Again, due to its soft leather material, Tom G would have no trouble jumping into this fantastic brown number. For the longest time I've been thinking about how Tom needs more earth tones in his wardrobe, so this would fit right in with my fashion strategy for him.



Okay, this one is a bit out there, but if anyone can pull it off it's Tom. I mean, the guy was able to pull off an album like Cold Lake while retaining his street cred...why not test the limits?





You may think this option is a joke, but if you're down with the old school, you probably remember that Reed St Mark wore a jacket like this for a good while during the late 80s. Damn the internet, I can't find a picture of it...but I swear it. If anyone can find a picture of it, let me know.

If you review the pictures of Tom above, you will see his terrible soul patch and his love for hats. Could it be? Could Tom be suffering from the terrible double-whammy? I think so. The poor guy has a mild case of Robb Flynn's Disease AND he's going bald. Here's a rare picture of Tom without a hat, where we see the last remnants of his once brittle, metal mane. Don't ask me why he's painted white, perhaps Celtic Frost is reuniting once again as a mime troupe, what do I know?




Oh yes, I forgot to mention that if we raise enough money we will also buy Tom a new pair of shoes. Seriously, how can we let one of metal's leading pioneers wear platform boots that even an Eastern European raver would laugh at?