Black Tide's Light From Above is totally off the charts Old School Metal!

Them Magic City kids can kick your teenybopper asses anytime of the day.

  

I must say, it ain't that frustrating after all, quittin' on the idiot box and all its mighty crap. People talkin' shit left and right 'bout who's winning the fuckin' elections, the NBA games.. never gave a dirty rat's ass about basketball.

But it was cool 'accidentally' seeing the final American Idol episode, with Bret Michaels finally back and rockin hard!

Hell, but look at what dwellin' in my filthy wormhole has gotten me into. Longliveheavymusic discoverd Black Tide! A tad too late for some metalhead who's been out hunting for some real music as of late, I know. But pardon me, I've been lookin' at the other direction, re-exploring the Hard Rock side of the word 'heavy'. That's what I do whenever I feel jaded about evil stuff, the Devil's Third, camo shorts and unkempt hair- i switch back to fun rock n roll! 

These past few weeks got me takin' a crack at the few hard rock items I had been waiting for, and it has been a long wait since the last output from Airbourne. Yet I still have this yearning to dig up quite some more after one spinning of No Guts, No Glory. True I can't go anywhere near as 'judging' it, and I won't. It's just that everything sounded too simple and basic from start to finish..

 

So forward I went to catch up on some of the more complex rock that's been out there for a while but I haven't checked out yet. I can give this self-titled one from Black Water Rising additional stars, maybe, after a couple more times I sit around with it. But I guess it's my longing for raw energy, power or chi..or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, that seems to never dwindle down.





Thank heaven for the parents who squirted out Black Tide.

More than a million hits on You Tube and I might still be playing John Corabi-era Motley Crue when all of these are happening! 

My ultimate memory of kids playing real heavy music was that of Death Angel's video from way before when they were just starting out. Andy Galeon was14 years old at the time and he ripped skins not thinking that his arm may only be as thick as those Vic Firths that we have today. I was blown away. Completely.


Had I seen that before the upper fucking echelons of the music business decided they would cash in on Silverchair ( and eventually Hanson, Moffats..  p'Tui! apologies all you alternagrunge lovers but I see no difference in them all ), it might have been a less boring time for me during the early 90's. I could imagine just how many people I would have debated that those kids aren't the be-all and end-all of teenage musicianship.

Well, we got a new breed here. 


from Wiki:

"The band started touring and gained a position on the second stage of Ozzfest, but were kicked off the tour because the stage was sponsored by Jagermeister and all of the members of Black Tide were under the legal drinking age. Although the band was no longer appearing on the second stage, Black Tide was able to be the opening act on the main stage in some areas...They are well known partly due to their age. They are all under the age of 21 and two members are still in High School. Also the lead singer is still 15."

Totally stoked. From first to the last track, Light From Above is full-on high velocity old school metal! It's been a long time since I had last gotten my hands on one album where I just kept on clicking 5 star ratings,  track after track, in my iTunes Library.

Sure enough everything is so ProTools these days, and I see where the skeptics are coming from. But hell we can always check with live footage. Try that one on Jimmy Kimmel Live. Man, do they deliver! Only complain on them live was the singing, which seemed to be low-pitched already. But I can't whine any much further about someone who's not even old enough to buy liquor and play really technical stuff!  

Also, don't crucify this author for branding them heavy metal, I must admit I was thinking sleaze rock when I first heard them. Some had even gone as far as '..sounds like Guns N Roses' in their reviews. But I'll pass on that. It's the riff-driven definition of 80's metal (virtually forgotten these days) that really grabs the music of this band if you listen more closely. Not so textbook on their part however, which means it can also be dubbed... FRESH. Hell, I don't even know how to explain the possibility of that. All I know is I fear maybe someday they will 'mature' musically, and experiment too far. But that's stating ahead of everything, might as well get fired up first with what they have to offer at the moment. 

This album is killer, man. I can't even find the words. I may be old school, but I have always believed that this same formula of heavy music is what we all true fans battle to push forth to the next century. If this can't be labeled as carrying the torch, I don't know what else can. Justin 'Gay Beaver' Beiber? Gimme a fuckin break.



EDIT 9 June: yes that last sentence baffles logic and obscures the flow of thought coz he's not even metal, but i'm not editing it for bashing purposes..i dont even know who he is :)

Down on the farm..

EDIT: 31 May 

The one song that pretty much sums up my everyday boredom in the farm:

Down On The Farm

by UK Subs/Guns N Roses

All I need is some inspiration
Before I do somebody some harm
I feel just like a vegetable
Down here on the farm

Nobody comes to see me
Nobody here to turn me on
I ain't even got a lover
Down here on the farm

They told me to get healthy
They told me to get some sun
But boredom eats me like cancer
Down here on the farm

Drinkin' lemonade shanty
Ain't nobody here to do me harm
But I'm like a fish out of water
Down here on the farm

I wrote a thousand letters
Till my fingers all gone numb
But I never see no postman
Down here on the farm

I call my baby on the telephone, I say
Come down and have some fun
But she knows what the score is
Down here on the farm

I can't fall in love with a wheatfield
I can't fall in love with a barn
Well everything smells like horse shit
Down here on the farm

Blue skies and swimming pools
Add so much charm
But I'd rather be back in Soho
Than down here on the farm

On the fucking farm!

Are you born in a fucking barn or what?

Beeeee!
Hold still 

That light was the music of yours that has walked me through all the darkest days of my life.

R.I.P

Ronnie James Dio

July 10, 1942 – May 16, 2010

Trivium Live in Manila Pictures.. and The Law of Attraction.

Remember these scenes from the film Detroit Rock City? You're damned right this is the ultimate heavy metal moment. It happens in dreams, and to some who may have thought of it subconsciously, and eventually ended up realizing it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let's talk books. Those self-help ones.

If you're fuckin bored you are probably gonna read on, so if you're not, scrap the dilly-dallying and head straight for the pictures.

Ain't it funny how the United States had turned into a mecca of self-help fanaticism?  Prozac Nation, no shit it has become. I figured it won't be long before their streets turn into one big flea market of self-help books addressing issues of a wide assortment- from surviving your 7th divorce to escaping furtive glances while walking your chihuahua. 

I'd just like to say that I have a personal disgust for small dogs, like poodles. I have some serious physical problems with them. Everything about them means I must kill them. I must. - W. Axl Rose

As for me, I've gotten myself a copy of Robert Greene's 48 Laws of Power. But I had done so without the intent of absorbing every nitty-gritty of it just so I could be the biggest asshole in the workplace. I did so because it's a pretty damn fine history book, having all the facts and figures laid out in such a neat trivial manner. 

John C. Maxwell's Failing Forward, which I read in private, is something I have never considered worthy of my shelf. Several expatriates from an office I used to work for continuously and annoyingly, as if with a cattle hotshot-type prod,  recommended we read it. That it would change our lives significantly and all that bullcrap..  I  had prepped myself up for some heavy reading, but to be honest I find Richard 'Little Miss Sunshine' Hoover's talks much more poignant and inspiring. I am most especially ashamed to have read a Maxwell. Considering I blow a huge chunk of my salary on books, I actually spent hours reading it in private in some grubby bookstore corner rather than buy the crap. After several visits, I did finish the book, albeit  wholly  dissatisfied. Aggravating more my disappointment, John C. Maxwell subsequently faced raps for concealing a gun through airport security. Oh well.. But that incident was just last year!

Hell, I ain't no big fan, really, of all these self-help shit. I figured early on I'm quite good enough to be a shrink of my own. I blast my speakers to eleven with all the heaviest tracks I can summon, and that's it! And through all the negativity I reckon it's not much aid as well being guru extraordinaire with regard to positive thinking. I have always been the 'expect the worst' type of fellow who's better off being at the ready with disappointment. Plus, spirits are double the high if you get triumphant otherwise!

No wonder I'm not getting any richer. 

A succinct repackaging of everything that embraces the power of positive thinking is how The Secret by Rhonda Byrne has been perceived by many. The reason for my  tedious foreword  is indeed my reluctance to read that book, much less believe what it has to say. Seriously, after getting a glimpse of its content, all the stupidest decisions I had made in the past slammed right smack in my face. 

I recall that right after the Arch Enemy finaIe I had hauled my brother's ass out of VIP, for fear of a slow-moving exit queue and an exploding bladder. He was, for the entirety of that evening, mumbling non-stop on how he's feeling Daniel Erlandson's drumstick in his hands. We had just rounded the corner when, much to my surprise, all five AE members had gotten back  to the front most part of the stage and had taken their bow, sparks of pyro flying in the air. Right after, I remember seeing Michal Amott releasing his guitar picks right below his feet, as if handing them from one person to the next. And then, Daniel started launching his sticks, right to the spot where we had placed ourselves all night.

By far, it was THE loudest what-the-fuck of my life.

It wouldn't be that long a wait before my brother had his next next chance. So much for this elder naysayer, I wasn't there to consistently retort that 'it's impossible' on that recent Trivium concert. The Secret may have worked, but the pessimist deemed it was destiny.

Nick Augusto or Travis Smith, that little piece of scraped wood is sure to be going to some place of honor once it gets its glass casing.