bITS 'N CHUNKS
I see it all perfectly; there are two possible situations — one can either do this or that. My honest opinion and my friendly advice is this: do it or do not do it — you will regret both.
Kierkegaard is discussing the option of marriage in Either/Or; but, you know, in the internet age we like to take quotes out of context. What if you did nothing or everything? What if you denied yourself one thing out of caution for another? What if I stayed home under the threat of a good time with Netflix binging instead of, oh, I don't know, going out?
Surprise, I showed up. Had to find out.
"And you came here?"
For a split second I thought to myself, you're silly. Where else would I be with the migraine that's been shadowing me since Friday night?
(It was Sunday afternoon.)
I spoke to a couple of folks who were also beset with various calamities and we showed up anyway; that sickness is contagious.
I detailed my first Fotocrime concert a while ago if you'd like to check that out; and I hope to go to another soon... meanwhile, as I wait patiently in my little lace gloves and my aviator shades, Fotocrime released their debut album! Check it out on Bandcamp above. On the heels of their Always Night EP featuring excellent tracks such as "Always Hell" and my favorite "Duplicate Days", looking at the cover of Principle of Pain I could sense this was going to move away from the punky moodiness of Always Night and into proper post-punk territory...
Indeed, this album is a lot darker, a bit clean, and pretty damn coldwave anchored by R's strikingly vulnerable baritone vocals sliced with Shelly Anderson's drowned siren call.
I could tell you what it sounds like if you need that -- a little mid-period Sisters of Mercy, a little Pink Turns Blue, a little Clan of Xymox. It bridges the gap between Coliseum's Anxiety's Kiss and the ridiculously danceable "Trance of Love" in a way that makes sense, which is a little frightening. But, I let myself enjoy this over a period of weekends because I was so hype for this album that I backed it on PledgeMusic. Not to brag, but I stand outside my mailbox awaiting my vinyl. Someday...
Anyway, adjectives like moody and dark get thrown about way too much in goth and post-punk because I suppose that's the point, but when I tell you the drums and bass featured here will crush your spirit and your heartache I want you to listen to "Love In a Dark Time" and believe me. I've seldom heard work so open and vulnerable to loss, longing, and pain. The guitars slink, both seductive and already burned. The gravel and clean vocals flit between hesitancy and resignation. It works. It's very evocative of the genre and maybe leans on it too much, but it works.
In the future, I'd like to see a little more of the duet action and a bit more variety in vocal melody. Unfortunately, the same or similar vocal phrasing will make songs sound a bit, well, samey. But I'm confident because I know R is capable of a lot, so hopefully we get to see him flex soon. I'm confident about the whole project and I'm glad, in this sea of synth and darkwave, to see my mode of guitar-based goth slowly dragging its way back up to the surface. Other standout tracks for me include the dark, cobweb-riddled club ready "Gods in the Dark", the rueful reminiscence of "Don't Pity the Young", and the sweet antipatriachy sounds of "Nadia (Last Year's Men)". Lift us up, break us down, and let's do it all again soon!
Twelve years (no shit!) after their formation and the metal community is still out on Ghost.
Are they more gimmick than music? Is T___as F___e running game on all of us? Are they actually metal? These are mere philosophical questions in the end; me, personally, I've outed myself as a metal purist a couple of times so to classify Ghost as, say, "doom metal" is a bit painful to me.
But death 'n doom is what the band pays stock in (in addition to hilarious dark mockery of Catholic institutions) and I'm not going to tell them what to identify as. There are times when I honestly just don't care because the music is good. Ghost especially caters to the part of me that loves camp and kayfabe. I just wrote two fucking heartfelt wrestling entries in a row, I obviously don't take everything super serious.
That being said, I'm going to my 2nd Ghost concert in just a few days here. My first encounter with the nameless ghouls and their Papa was a couple of years ago at good ol' Marathon Music Works. Then, they were leaning heavily into their psychedelic period even as the 3rd incarnation of Emeritus (Papa III) brought in a new era of sleazy late 70s/early 80s inspired cock rock. The floor was hazy, the lights swirled, and everyone smelled like incense. I don't think I needed to bathe for a few weeks. The stage show was fantastic and already gearing towards something a little more theatrical, so for Rats on the Road I'm not terribly surprised they're hitting the theater circuit.
I've held off on video and indulging in a lot of fan lore to be able to enjoy the show as it is: a show. Anything that you have to read three volumes of back story, for example, to "understand" is playing games. But in preparation, I'm taking time out to mistily and fondly remember Ghost's first official album, Opus Eponymous. This record cemented me as a fan for life, is still my preferred period, and the peak moment where gimmick and musicality collided into the perfect mesh of doom, trad metal, and unironic Satan worship. Finally, the music your parents ASSUMED you were always listening to, now made flesh!
All band lore and singer controversy aside, Opus Eponymous still wins me over with its blend of melody, chugging early-Sabbath tendencies, and Gothic horror. Songs about the fallen archangel himself are augmented with odes to Countess Bathory and the Beatles. And... ABBA, because they are Swedish and who doesn't love a good folk melody? Anyway, it seemed like from this point on Ghost could do no wrong and by the time "Year Zero" rolled out they were well on their way to actual annunciation. Popestar and parts of Meliora were steps back, showing off Papa's pipes but not furthering too much else. But even while he new regime under Cardinal Copia (who is NOT using his boom box enough) is giving me Spinal Tap vibes, but I'm hoping Prequelle can turn us around. I'm just hoping by this time next year they will have gone full Queen-meets-Alice-Cooper, utilizing some kind of gilded guillotine as part of the act, no?
Back with wrestling clickbait again, because that’s the type of month it is.
This quarter got a little weird. I lost my permanent job and, after a brief stay-to-vacation, I gained another job however temporary. It put into perspective how long I’ve held off on actually banking on my own skills, doing work that makes me happy, being paid, and so on.
If you think I was depressed, you’re only half right and probably not even about that, because I had so much to look forward to that past!me was on the hunt for. Way to go, past!me. I went to Southern Underground Pro, and now with whiplash speed I’m back at the illustrious and not-very-well-labeled Sport Arena at the Nashville Fairgrounds for the Making Towns Classic. Two rounds of competitive, combative women-centric independent wrestling and a very long, very hot day drenched in honeysuckle, sweat, face paint, and blood.
I told you how important women’s wrestling is right now, but let’s see if we put our money where our mouths are.
Looks like the rigor mortis is setting in…
Ohh, expecting a Converge embed were you?
It was a year ago that I decided I’d gotten a taste of live wrestling shows after retiring from the graps scene in general for a while and I wanted to go to more local shows.
A year ago while shaking WrestlingTwitter down for info, I ran across the show card and some YouTube videos via Twitter for some cats called Southern Underground Pro. For a small promotion I recognized quite a few names – Dough Markham? Seen that guy before. Curt Stallion? He’s been on my TV! The Carnies? I probably bagged their groceries! I love these guys! This sounds like a big deal. I was even familiar with Kick Out at Two the podcast and I’d awkwardly spoken to Jesse like… once? I’d be remiss to remember.
Ech, a show on a Sunday night at a bar? What side of thirty am I on again? Doesn’t matter; it was raining, I was at an OK place in my life, and it’s close by. In the name of the GOOD TIME, I took the chance on a capricious April night, a year ago.
A year ago I started making quarterly appointments between The Cobra and The Basement East and ditching my friends by the wayside any given Sunday.
Ia! If you've come this far, you're either looking for weird or you know you've found it...