Saturday, September 12, 2015

Some Metal News: In Which Jaygular Will Piss Off 90% Of You

Like most metal hermits, I don't pay attention to current events, even if they're related to metal. Cynic's breaking up? Good. Their music was so pretentious Varg Vikernes was biting his lip in perpetuity. Donald Trump is a candidate for presidency? So what, he's probably the most honest potential president you dullards have had. He's an asswipe and he makes no effort to hide it, just like pretty much all of you Americans.

I seriously could not give that much of a shit about all this. Knowing about something unmetal, whether you like it or despise it, will invariably make you unmetal, even in the slightest. I had no idea something unrepentantly asinine like Metalachi existed, and thanks to Sagecutioner, I have something else to hate, and am forever tarnished, even if it is slightly so.

On a slightly more serious note, the past few weeks have been kinda putting the classic (translation: popular) bands in the spotlight. Albums released, tours announced, and the sort. Since I'm here out from under my rock, and not having my own band, I'll talk shit about some of it.

Iron Maiden - The Book of Souls

Fuck, even the album cover's lazy.

This has to be the weakest album they've released in the last 15 years, and this is a band that put out A Matter of Life and Death. It just drones on and on, Bruce Dickinson's voice is good for it's age, but he's just falling back into the same old routines that he's been doing since Dance of Death, and there's still so few good riffs per song, it's just lazy.

Can we all come together and just admit that their last, good, cohesive album was Brave New World? That album was a fucking monster, and now they're just a shadow of themselves with Janick Gers fairy hopping around stage, Steve Harris milking the same god damned bassline as if nobody's heard Run to the Hills, and...fuck it, I don't need another reason. These guys have been riding on their past success for a decade and a half.

Motörhead - Bad Magic

FUCK.

I actually haven't listened to a single god damned note of this album, nor have I read any reviews, or even seen the cover art before finding it for this article. I just know that it's perfect because it's fucking Motörhead, god damn it. The day that someone presents me with a bad Motörhead album is the day that I skullfuck a lying bastard until they get a lung infection.

Black Sabbath - The End

It ended five years ago, just let it die already.

So, Black Sabbath's final tour, eh? Figures, they don't exactly have the resolve of Lemmy, I'm not surprised that they'd go out-they're doing it with Ozzy? And just like that, you lost me. No, I am not denying the Ozzy Osbourne era as wildly influential on heavy metal as a whole, and more specifically, doom metal. Yes, I like some of those albums. Yes, I even like the first couple solo records of Ozzy... Not enough to get me to listen to them again, but I do. And yes, I really like 13 a lot. No, the album, not the age of Roman Polanski's preferred fuck.

Do you know what I like more? EVERY OTHER ERA OF BLACK SABBATH. The Dio years kick the shit out of every other Black Sabbath release, that's including The Devil You Know. "Oh, but they changed the name-" fuck you. Heaven & Hell was Black Sabbath and you know it. When Iommi brought in Tony Martin, Black Sabbath became one of the most awesome, pure, uncut, black tar heavy metal bands you will ever hear. The Seventh Star (Which for the record is actually Tony Iommi's first solo album) was the progenitor to that with Glenn Hughes' bluesy tone gliding in and out of each verse. And don't even get me started on the pounding, groove ridden musical heroin that is Born Again.

Here's the thing. Ozzy is not a talented vocalist, nor is he a decent writer by any standards. Can he sing? Sure, why not. Is he a good singer? Fuck the hell no. Witchfinder General is practically a carbon copy of Black Sabbath, but even if their vocalist is a rip off of Ozzy, he's still a better one, and can actually cut past that annoying nasally whine. "So what? I'm going there for Black Sabbath-" Fuck you, no you're not. You're going to go see Ozzy songs, not Black Sabbath. Queen fans have to put up with this same kind of bullshit. You wanna hear Ogre Battle, Sheer Heart Attack and The Hitman? Oh, I'm sorry, our current vocalist has trouble hitting notes that aren't flat! Now lets play all the songs from our greatest hits album!

And it's not just that Ozzy can't sing songs from other albums, he has no interest in actually trying any of them. Yeah, there's no way he could hit the dog whistle notes of Ian Gillian or leather lung fury of Dio, but he doesn't even want to make an attempt to own the song himself. I give Iron Maiden a hard time for being lazy, but Ozzy Osbourne? He contributed jack and shit to the original albums and the only two solo albums of his worth listening to. Ozzy and his fans can suck my balls, is the point I'm trying to get across here.

Lemmy Cutting Shows Short and Dropping Dates



In a world where the metal heroes of old take extended tour breaks and release a new album roughly when enough of their fans die, Motörhead has been boldly lifting the finger and shouting "No, motherfuckers, THIS is how it's done!". But I'm saddened to admit that those days may be over. And not in the way I want it. Recently, Lemmy had to cut a few shows after only playing a few songs, and even halfway through them. Then he had to flat out cancel some shows.

Fortunately for fans, after taking the bafflingly wise move to go to a doctor, Lemmy discovered that he had a lung infection aggravated by some high altitude or air pressure crap. So now he's back on the road. Fans have been shouting on social media to get Lemmy to take a fucking break already because they want to wring some more years out of the guy. So far, He's taken the infinitely more metal (or in his case, Rock 'n' Roll) decision to say "Fuck you, I'm gonna do it anyway.". This warms my heart, and I hope he gets sick again soon.

Now, before you all jump down my throat, you need to bear with me. Lemmy has been writing, recording, drinking, smoking, snorting, touring and fucking for over four decades. He has not stopped for long since. Not only does this god of steel and stone seem immortal, it's more than likely a fact. But it's inevitable that he's going to go out. And there's only one way for it to happen.

Lemmy needs to die on stage.

I'm not trying to be mean, cruel, or morbid, but GOD DAMN IT. LEMMY. NEEDS. TO DIE. ON STAGE. Not just because it's a popular prediction among fans, colleagues ranging from Tony Iommi to Rob Halford, or even because it's the only thought that gives me an erection nowadays. He needs to die on stage because it will literally be the most metal moment of all time. From here till the supernova of our star, not a single thing shall possibly match it! I don't care if you turn into a giant demonic grizzly bear to uppercut a cyborg Jörmungandr while Bal-Sagoth are playing a concert, you will NEVER. FUCKING. TOP THAT. Allow me to capture your imagination for a brief moment.

Motörhead has finished their set. Winding down from playing louder than they ever have, the valley they're playing in forever smelling of whiskey and vodka, they begin to finish Overkill. The crowd is shouting, they can barely hear their own cries through the tinnitus and bedlam. But as the distortion fades for the second to last time, Phil and Mikkey look at Lemmy, then at each other. They know what's about to happen. With a look of steeled resolve, they stand their ground and continue. Lemmy looks up at the crowd, a cigarette appearing in his mouth out of nowhere. He smiles like a fucking maniac and unleashes his bass solo to Overkill.

They keep going, never have they sounded more excellent, never have they rocked harder and never has the crowd been more at their mercy. Lightning begins to touch down, scorching an unlucky fan here and there, but nobody cares. The stage begins to ascend to the skies on a pillar of stone, forming into a mountain. They finish the song, everyone in attendance is reduced to man tears as they see the most metal human being about to leave them. The very SECOND the sound leaves their amps, when Lemmy looks over his world one final time, the lightning reaches his beckoning middle finger and he disappears in a flash of blinding metal light.

A shockwave of pure metal erupts, no longer being bound to a physical vessel. It permeates the world, cleansing the land of poseurs and people with no metal within themselves. Only those who are metal are spared to inherit the earth.

Or you selfish fans can have him die in a nursing home after releasing a couple more albums.

No comments:

Post a Comment

All readers that post under the name "Anonymous" and are too frail and weak to represent themselves properly with a title, shall be deemed false metal poseurs for the remainder of their pitiful existence.