I don’t like the bands ‘Jet’ and ‘Wolfmother’

What do you get if you mix the sounds of Australian hard rock legends AC/DC, the quality alternative brit-pop rock of Oasis, and bring back the classic sounds of the british invasion? Well I don’t know what the hell you’d get, but it certainly would not be the band Jet, a contemporary Australian rock band. I was really into Jet when I was twelve, I remember owning the album Get Born and rocking out to the oh-so-raunchy power chords and quasi-badass lyrics. Allow me to explain some of the lameness that bands like this get away with on a daily basis.

I remember hearing an interview with the band Alexisonfire, where guitarist Wade said that Jet were the most annoying band they’ve ever toured with and how Jet claimed to be “bringing back the classic rock n’ roll”. I did not immediately know exactly what he meant by that, but after listening to some actual ’classic rock’ (I don’t like that term, it’s so…bleh) I understood better. Jet doesn’t sound like modern rock bands, they use older sounding chord progressions and lyricism. Of course I did not realize this at age twelve, when I hadn’t ever listened to a Beatles or AC/DC album. It turns out Jet weren’t the original band I thought them out to be (my only musical knowledge coming from muchmusic at the time).

While I’m far from one of those 50 year old ‘classic rock elitists’, I will go on record saying that the British Invasion was probably the pinnacle of rock music as both a form of art and entertainment. The lyrics were quite risque but never vulgar, which is the big selling point for me. Plus you couldn’t get away with just mixing a few catchy chords, writing shallow lyrics and then deeming it a ‘song’, or at least the most remembered bands from that era didn’t do that. Through and through, the inner indie snob in me will tell you that mainstream rock bands nowadays will completely neglect things like songwriting and originality, which leads me to Jet. If you suck all the creativity out of the aforementioned British Invasion bands, you will end up with moderately catchy and easy to make pop-rock. That’s exactly what Jet have done, taken the socially challenging edge out of rock and replaced it with mainstream shittyness.

Remember albums like Abbey Road and Village Green Preservation Society, with LSD-influenced lyrics that were so stunning and creative that only a madman could deny their quality? Jet shows off their profound songwriting skills in songs such as ’Are You Gonna Be My Girl’. The lyrics of their 2003 album Get Born are completely deathless and only show a moderate interest in lyricism. They appeal mostly to prepubescent young men who don’t know any better but to rock along to obese three-chord athems without giving two hoots about songwriting. At one point they try and give some commentary about party DJs in the song ‘Rollover DJ’ where they make remark how they only play other people’s songs at gigs. This is a totally valid criticism when you play someone else’s sound. If Abbey Road was a dude on heavy hits of acid, then Get Born is a high school kid who had his first taste of beer and could only finished half the can.

Another band I’ve been complaining about is Wolfmother. The idealism is similar to Jet, in that they attempt to sound ‘vintage’ but fail to appreciate the subtleties of classic rock. They gained fame a few years after Jet, and appropriately rip off bands that came slightly after the British Invasion (Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath). Sabbath would have these mountainous songs, with existential lyrics, the most epic riffs you’ve ever heard, and the ability to break the sound barrier of genre restrictions. With Wolfmother, you get stunning wit like “woman, I know you woman, you gotta be woman, when you’re talking to me, see right through me, I’ve got the felling of love. she’s a woman, you know what I mean, you better listen, listen to me yeah, she’s gonna set you free yeah yeah”. Their attempts at creating memorable guitar hooks also cause them to fall flat on their arses, utilizing way too many bloated power-chords and overusing the pentatonic scale (that scale that sounds really bluesy). This is not blues-hard-rock, it is booze-hard-cock. Wolfmother and Jet are just pop bands incognito, covering up their poppy identity with the classic trench coat and fedora disguise.

While I certainly do like the sub-genre of garage rock revival, a la White Stripes (shut up) I really think bands trying to bring back the ‘classic sound’ can basically suck some cooperate wang and fizzle out. Why would anyone ever listen to Jet or Wolfmother, when the bands they pay tribute to are a hundred times superior? If you quasi-old sounding pop music with guitars, then they’re right up your alley, otherwise they are right up your ass. Here’s the song Woman by Wolfmother, just incase you were enjoying life a little too much.

Bad Movie Contest: Transformers 2 vs G.I. Joe

You know those people who claim the Nazis were intellectually and culturally elite, or claim that the Holocaust was justified in any way, or claim that Nazis get a worse-than-deserved reputation in history? We call those people Nazi sympathizers. Over my internet movie-snob browsing, I have come across people who defend Transformers 2 on the grounds that it’s an action movie and shouldn’t be judged from an intellectual stand-point. I call those people Michael Bay sympathizers. I know I already wrote an unfunny blog about Trans2, but what Mr.Bay created was POOP and cannot be excused by any means. I will spend the rest of this review comparing it  to another brain-dead,’golden-topping’ popcorn munching abomination of celluloid: G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra (or Rise of My Lunch Onto the Movie Seat, as I call it). I will compare them using crude judgements that I feel reflect the non-snobbish movie watcher’s opinion.

WHICH MOVIE HAD THE BETTER CHICK: The women in these movies are absolute tools and only exist for the purpose of eye-candy aimed at the general male audience. However (SPOILER) Sienna Miller in G.I. Joe is only a tool because her brain is under remote control the whole time. Megan Fox acts like a tool on her own free will. Sienna Miller loses points for showing cleavage in (literally) every uniform she wears, even when the setting shifts to the extremely cold Antarctica she wears a top which puts her breasts on display. In the long run, Sienna does win because she wears glasses for a fair chunk of the movie, meaning she probably knows how to read. Megan Fox also had an embarrassing slo-mo running scene where her breasts bounced in every direction, thus Sienna earns one point for G.I. Joe! (Joe=1, Trans=0).

BETTER SPECIAL EFFECTS: Both of these movies had some of the biggest budgets in movie history. Transformers had $200 Million, G.I. Joe had $175 Million. I’ve seen movies with no/minimal CGI made for more than $25 Million, thus the gap in budget means nothing to me. While I wasn’t totally convinced at the transforming vehicles in T2, the battle would ultimately still go to Michael’s Bay’s crapsterpiece because G.I. Joe featured a very lame looking C.G.I. polar bear. I love polar bears so G.I. Joe can go screw itself for rendering a fake one. (Joe=1, Trans=1)

BETTER STORY: Lmao. One point deducted from each team. (Joe=0, Trans=0)

BETTER DIRECTOR : Remember when Sarah Palin managed to impress people at the presidential debate, only because she set the bar so bloody low with her infamous foreign trade interview? That’s how I feel in comparing G.I. Joe’s director Stephen Sommers with Transformer’s Michael Bay. Bay sets the bar so low that it’s impossible for Sommers to fail. Sommers is at least competent with dumb popcorn flicks, with such passable efforts like the ‘Mummy’ series and…well that’s about it actually. He’s not Nolan by any means, but he’s a much more capable force than Bay. (Joe=1, Trans=0)

BETTER ACTION : Transformers 2 had colorful cars battling each other, some pyramids being destroyed, a bunch of tanks blowing up. G.I. Joe blows up a lot of generic tanks and military equipment, but gains some steam because the friggin EIFFEL TOWER gets destroyed by chemical weaponry. I dislike that French thing a lot more than I dislike the ancient Egyptian pyramids, in-fact I rather like the pyramids! Plus G.I. had ninja stars that blow peoples heads up, so G.I. Joe the plumber wins in this category. (Joe=2, Trans=0)

BETTER CHARACTERS : G.I. Joe’s badguy was a morally ambigous Celtic dude with one of the worst acted accents in recent cinema. He’s one of those guys who sells guns to ‘either side’ and doesn’t give two hoots about the casualties of the war he is promoting, he’s just concerned with his profit. I’ve seen a billion badguys do the same thing, with equally bad accents. Transformers II had a robot with a robot beard. In spite of how little logic there is in that, it certainly qualifies as awesome when compared to the cliche weapon capitalist. (Joe=2, Trans=1)

MORE OFFENSIVE STEREOTYPE: G.I. scores big by making the badguy have an accent that’s as ambiguous as his morality. Sometimes I couldn’t even figure out the accents because they were so poorly acted, plus the American army steps in and fixes everything of course (America, fuck yeah! coming again to save the motherfuckin’ day-yeah!). Transformers II takes the cake in this category for having black gangster robots who don’t have the ability to read. Seriously, this is a race of robots from outer space who speak in thick urban dialect and proudly say “we don’t do a lot of reading around here”. (Joe=2, Trans=2)

Okay, now we’re tied (I admit I purposely did that so it would create interest ). What it all boils down to is which movie I enjoyed watching the most, don’t forget that these are just ‘popcorn’ movies. Neither movies expect or require the viewer to think too deeply about them, it’s more about creating a silly and enjoyable bigscreen experience. In this regard, I would say that G.I. Joe was the better movie, as Transformers II shat all over itself even though I decided to not pay attention to how awful the script was. The brain-dead action sequences in Joe were at least varied and fairly creative, which is more than I can say about Trans2. Don’t get me started on how awful Channing Tatertot is as an actor, but that’s beyong the point; Joe is at least quasi-entertaining. Don’t get me wrong, both movies are poo from an actual ‘film’ point of view, but Joe is slightly less poo-ish. So if you’re looking for a dumb theater experience, I suggest you watch G.I…..actually go rent Citizen Kane you dickhole.

Shitty Albums By Great Bands Part III: ‘Metal Magic’ by Pantera

Pantera is one of the most influential metal bands of the 1990′s. On albums like Cowboys From Hell, Vulgar Display of Power and Far Beyond Driven they pioneered the aggressive, double-bass driven and downtuned form of metal that is still constantly copied today. It’s hard for me to imagine a world without Pantera, they proved that you don’t need stupid poofy hair and make-up to have a successful metal band. True, the great metal bands that came before Pantera (like Slayer, Metallica, etc) weren’t glam in any way, but compare Slayer’s Seasons In The Abyss to Pantera’s Vulgar Display and you’ll know what I mean. But wait a minute, I said Pantera is one of the most influential 90′s metal bands right? Well, to be technical, they released 4 albums before the 90′s that nobody gave a shit about. Here’s Metal Magic, released 1983.

ROFLOMGLMAOLOLOLOLOLOLOLBBQ. I almost feel as if I shouldn’t waste my time thinking of jokes to make fun of this cover. This is about as dated, cheesy and poorly drawn as an album cover can possibly get. If I owned this, I would seriously hide it deep in the closet if a woman ever entered my house. Imagine people finding out that you own this; your parents would disown you, your friends would ditch you at a bus-stop, your significant other would start searching for new mates in speed-dating clubs, your dog would find a new owner, your gnomes would even migrate to someone else’s lawn. Seriously, what kind of person would go into the record store, see this and go “oh, this looks like a great album!” and purchase it? Regardless of the music (which is equally piss poor, as I’ll explain next paragraph) I wouldn’t buy this on grounds of this cover alone. It could be the most innovative indie album of the last century and still I’d be too embarrassed to buy it.

The album starts off with what is possibly the most infamous song in Pantera history, ‘Ride My Rocket’. Once you get over the moronic sexual wordplay, you’ll find it’s little more then a ripoff of the Kiss song ‘Detroit Rock City’, just a million times less cool. Another classic song title from this album is ‘Biggest Part of Me’. As you’re probably able to tell, this entire album is a complete glam nightmare, complete with corny vocals, wanky guitar solos, machoistic lyrics, and it makes you envision the Village People with electric guitars. Indeed this is the dark side of 80′s music and while it is slightly heavier than your average glam-metal album, it still reeks of spandex and expired hair gel.

Metal Magic was self produced by Pantera, what’s even more comedic is that the record label is listed as ‘Metal Magic Records’. That means Pantera named their independent label after this poop-fest, which is such a weird occurrence when you reflect on Pantera’s timeline. They released their first four albums on this ‘label’, to my knowledge no other bands released on ‘Metal Magic Records’. The band got good when they released their fifth album in 1990 on ‘Atco’ records, which seriously adds to the whole Spinal Tap feeling to their 80′s years. The man who produced these albums was none other than Jerry Abbott, the father of the guitarist and drummer of Pantera. The whole situation is just hysterical: before Pantera was good, they had their own indie record label in which they released four four albums produced by their band member’s father. How many bands can say they did that?

Last time I visited the Pantera website and clicked the ‘discography’ button, these four indie albums were not even listed on the page! In fact, I couldn’t find one mention of Metal Magic anywhere on their web pages. This album has also been out of print for the longest of time,I think all this means they want you to believe that it simply does not exist. Who can blame them with song titles like Ride My Rocket? Vinyl copies of this album can be found exclusively on wesites like eBay, where they are classified as extremely fan rare stuff that is expensive and only owned by the utmost hardcore fans of Pantera. The only positive thing I’ll say is that the guitar work is a little more creative and heavy than most shitty galm-metal albums. Yet I’ve been a fan of Pantera since I was 13 years old and I still consider Metal Magic to be a true waste of space on my hard drive. May I warn you, listen to this at your own risk.

2 out of 5

fashion/metal appearance/other poop

As a somewhat dumb looking young adult male, I can’t help but occasionally think about my appearance. Constantly I find my juvenile and under-developed mind to be bombarded with questions like: “what is fashion? do I have style? do I give off the impression of an idiot with my long hair and slayer shirts? do women find me attractive? does this scarf make my thighs seem disproportionate to the rest of my body? why do I constantly have un-masculine thoughts like this? should having style be exclusive to the female gender? is it not ‘manly’ to give a crap about fat I look? is fashion just a way to be more sexually attractive to the opposite sex?” I got carried away with that, but they all stand.

I’ve always wondered how my long hair (for a guy, anyway) and Slayer shirt affect the way people interact with me. In a library, a person once said I was trying to give off the ‘hardcore’ image, which I think couldn’t be further from the truth. How does having hair down to my neck make me appear ‘hardcore’? Some people have called me a hippie, which makes just as little sense, as I would classify myself as a fiscal conservative (but social liberal, arbitrarily making me a ‘Libertarian’ according to online tests). My grandparents said it may be hard for me to find a job with my hair, which I don’t understand. How does my hair affect my performance as an employee? I almost feel as if Big Brother is going to kidnap me for deviance and shave my head while telling me incorrect math equations (smug literature joke).

I’ve also heard people say (although never directed specifically at myself) “he’s got long hair, like a girl!” If anything, I feel that kind of mentality promotes primitive gender roles. An interviewer asked Frank Zappa once “if you have long hair, does that make you a woman?” to which he responded “if you have a wooden leg, does that make you a table?”. I don’t understand what’s so apparently bad about being a woman anyway, people often use the “long hair, like a girl!” in an insulting tone, which I find interesting. I think it’s their inner misogynist telling men that being effeminate makes them less valid as males, but you’d have to consult a sociologist about that I suppose. Even if it is ‘gender ambiguity’, who cares anyway? I don’t tell women to stay at home and dress like darth vader when they appear in public, as I am not a fucking short haired cave man.

People have also told me that I’m going for the ‘metal look’ (or occasionally I’m apparently going for the ‘grunge look’). Statements like that made me misinterpret the fine arts of things like style or fashion. I used to think that the fashion industry was just a business which preyed off our fear and sold us trendy clothing at Hot Topic, after further examination I found that wasn’t true. Everyone has a style and clothing is indeed a legitimate form of art, just some people are insecure and say “well it’s just to make yourself sexually attractive” or other negative things towards the general clothing/style topic. It’s true that advertisements do use our sexual insecurities to sell their specially woven fabric, but the vast majority of people interested in fashion that I’ve met are indeed very artistic and could intellectually tear you to shreds on the subject. I’m pretty sure people who go to university for fashion are interested in making innovative clothing, as opposed to majoring in courses like ‘how to sell the most fabric to people in Brooklyn’. Plus ALL advertisements work that way, including movies and music videos and such. Overall I consider style to be a form of art, but wait…where was I? Some people see my Slayer shirts and hair as some kind of hardcore pose towards the world, refusing to ‘sell out’ or work or be of any legitimate use. I think that’s what motivates all the complaints I get about my image, despite my interests being fairly conservative/businessmanlike on reflection. Everyone has their own style, just some weak minded people buy whatever is advertised to them or use clothing as a desperate cry for help.

To be fair, I’m not trying to seem like a martyr or anything. In fact, a lot of people say that the long hair and whatnot is very suiting for me and that I should keep it. But until that minority of ignorant people stop giving me malarky about gender confusion and subversive imagery on fabric, I’ll feel funny about myself while going to my grandparents place. Now bugger off and read some actual literature.

must be seen to be believed: ‘Glen or Glenda?’ (1953)

If there ever existed a movie so bold, so oddly contrived, so terrible yet so awesome, it’s ‘Glen or Glenda?’. Anyone familiar with B-Movies will immediately know how infamous it is and how much of a cult following it has developed since it’s release, this is a movie so bizarre (and amazing, in some weird way) that it simply cannot be ignored. This was the first (and easily most idiosyncratic) movie directed by Edward D. Wood Jr, who is often referred to as the ‘worst film director of all time’. He put his heart and soul into this crapsterpiece, creating a movie like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Seriously, it carelessly ignores so many conventions that it almost becomes unintentionally avant-garde, but I’ll get to that later. Once you’ve read this silly blog you should go see it on youtube, just search the title and it’ll pop right up. But beware.

Where do I begin with this movie? There’s so much strangeness that I’m having trouble coordinating my thoughts into paragraphs. Why don’t I explain what it’s ‘about’…if I can. The title gives a subtle (if dumb) hint. It’s movie with the HARD FACTS (as the intro gladly tells us) about transvestism and how society has deemed it unacceptable for men to dress in ladies clothing. Remember how I said that it’s Ed Wood’s most personal movie? That is because he indeed enjoys dressing in women’s clothing and considers this film to be a deeply analytical statement on the subject. Funny, after watching this movie I don’t feel well informed about the topic. The narrator attempts to give us some deep thoughts about society and social progression, but the script is so contrived that it’s hilarious hearing the lines read in a very serious voice. That man narrating the movie even refers to a character as ‘Partick / Patricia’, which I feel somewhat defeats the purpose. The exposition is so awful that at times it borders on being a documentary, and then when it ‘documents’ it deludes further into an existential college pot smoking session. At times you may think it’s a novelty movie, but make no mistake, this is indeed a ‘serious’ movie (of sorts).

Scenes in the movie flick randomly between an investigation of a dead transvestite (the suicide note comically reads: “ley my body rest in death forever in the things I cannot wear in life ”) to stock footage of buffaloes (seriously) to scenes of Bela Lugosi narrating lines which have no relevance (“beware the big green dragon which sits on your doorstep. he eats little boys, puppy dog tails, big fat snails!” seriously, I can’t make any sense of that line) and many other things you can’t get in any other movie. The only actual ‘story’ element occurs when a man (played by Ed Wood himself!) chooses to reveal his fashionable secret to his fiancee. There’s a hysterical scene in a chapel when (I’m not distorting facts) Satan himself appears at the Ed Wood’s wedding, representing his ‘inner demon’ I suppose. It’s supposed to be dramatic but I couldn’t help but wondering how someone can get Satan to be the best man at his wedding. There really isn’t much of a coherent plot, it’s closer to a series of random images which vaguely relate to transvestism (even the out of place stock footage of buffaloes). Seriously, who puts random footage of buffaloes in their movie? Points for originality…I guess. The only despicable part is when the protagonist first experiences impulses to be a woman, then randomly starts to impuslively clean things. No Ed Wood, having a gender crisis does NOT make you randomly break out into house chores. That part of the movie was somewhat sexist, but funny as all hell.

There are so many unintentionally funny moments in this movie. Ed Wood screws up so badly as director that I kept watching the movie wondering how he’d make serious situations seem hilarious. He’s like one of those rappers who keeps impressing you with clever line after line, just Ed Wood keeps spitting out stupid scenes that spontaneously made me put my face into my palm. Mr.Wood is notorious for rarely doing second takes, and would you be willing to be it’s not because of his actors being so spot-on with their dialogue? On occasion, the acting is so bad that it almost becomes surreal, I especially like the scene where Eddie eyes up his wife’s angora sweater. This movie has got to hold some kind of record for the ‘least amount of effort put into creating a conversation’, if I saw real people talking in that uncanny tone I’d probably shit my pants. The acting schizophrenically wonders between melodramatic and montonous, sometimes even in mid sentence. It so strange and creepy seeing people speak like this, it’s like they’re possessed by Chad Michael Murray.

It may be a drunkenly-contrived piece of cinematic poop, but I’ll take it over those ‘American Pie Presents’ or ‘Transformers’ sequels. ‘Glen or Glenda?’ represents the opposite end of the bad movie spectrum, something made on a shoestring budget with the intention of being extremely profound. This is one mans dedicated attempt to tell the world about a group of people who have been shunned by society, it’s just unfortunate that he wrote in about three days, then filmed it in four. No joke. Ed Wood was genuinely convinced this movie would be his ‘Citizen Kane’, I can just imagine him in the premiere moving his mouth to the narration while waving his hand gently through the air. Still, as idiosyncratic it may be, (as I mentioned before) it’s still better than ‘Transformers 2′. All it’s flaws and pretention make it the entertaining mess-of-a-movie that it is, for that I love it. Now go watch it on youtube, and yes that really is Bela Lugosi (who played Dracula!) doing that disjointed storytelling.

Why ‘Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen’ is a giant piece of poo and can never be enjoyed by anyone

Shame on me for paying money to see this movie in theaters. I’m attempting to justify seeing it in theaters by telling myself “well it was with your friends and they wanted to see it”, but that logic is completely flawed. I could have been a good Samaritan and prevented my friends from seeing this movie, but I remained apathetic and let us waltz right into the cinema (like cows getting on the truck thinking they’re going to Disneyland).

Just so you know, I lowered my expectations to approximately hell-point before the movie started. It would have been pretty stupid of me to expect a compelling story, character development, a subtext about our culture, decent acting, or ANYTHING that would typically make a movie good. All I wanted to see was giant robots beating the living shit out of each other projected onto a big screen for my viewing pleasure. Gotta judge things objectively, this isn’t a ‘serious’ movie after all. Seemed simple enough, I thought, I’m pretty sure they can’t muck that up too bad. Soon I would learn that (any) positive expectation would torment me with the utmost suicide-inducing pleasure.

After some unmemorable noisy battle scene, we find that Shia TheBeef is going away to college. I assume he made it on a special-ed scholarship or something. Apparently he doesn’t want to take his transforming robot car with him out of some misguided attempt at ‘independence’. This perplexes me. What kind of fucking loser would NOT want a transforming robot combat car to take to college? He’s an idiot, end of story. Actually I wish that was the end of the story.

His girlfriend Megan Fox (who works in the least practical place for a teenage girl) is going to some other college far away…but alas, she remains in the movie, to my extreme displeasure. Many guys in the theater couldn’t take their eyes off the candy, but I tell you, I couldn’t wait for her to go off screen. Her acting is so painful and lifeless that it quite honestly made me want to shoot myself, at least that would be slightly faster than exiting the movie theater. Am I the only heterosexual male who genuinely isn’t attracted to Megan Fox? I mean, she’s pretty and all, but no more so than any other clueless Hollywood bimbo and their dog. I don’t understand her screen appeal.

I won’t bother describing the rest of the random events known as the story. As Truman Capote once said: ‘This isn’t writing. It’s typing.’ The story was unique in the fact that it was COMPLETE drivel, as opposed to being ‘somewhat drivel’ or ‘mostly drivel’. Oh well, at least it met my expectations. The attempts at humor were painful and every line came across as either forced or just plain lazy.

Well, I could forgive all of those flaws if the movie granted me one thing: excitement. As I mentioned before, all I really wanted to see was giants robots destroying each other and creating a ridiculous but entertaining movie. Unfortunately, Transformers 2 didn’t even grant me that. The cinematography was so awful that even the visuals lacked any appeal, not to mention that most of the robots looked like pukey masses of CGI bolts and such. The action was just dull and lacked any creativity, which is in my opinion the most important part of action scenes. Nothing elaborate, nothing thoughtful: just robots fighting. Sometimes they take it to exotic locations, but that never brings it out of it’s comatose state.

It’s not like I’m an indie snob who’s allergic to big-budget action movies, as there are plenty of such movies that I adore. The one thing that divides the bad movies of that type (Transformers 2) from the good ones (Dark Knight) is an artistic visionary director who creates a distinct and admirable ’style’ to their movie. The Dark Knight was directed by Christopher Nolan, a more than capable artistic mind who doesn’t get ruined by a massive budget. Despite it being a movie about Batman, he seems to be artistically ‘at one’ with the movie and ultimately created some entertaining, massive and just plain fucking awesome. On the other hand, Transformers 2 was directed by Michael Bay. This is a man who has put absolutely no art consistency or creative effort into his movie, so the final product comes across as if it’s been designed by a committee who all failed high school art.

Ok, there were some good aspects. The special effects were really bloody awesome and (even though I didn’t like the look of the Deceptacons) I do admit that some of the Autobots looked cool in the big theater. The generic Egypt locations and transforming cars were a treat for the eyes, so I felt at least somewhat fulfilled in a hedonistic sense. Don’t get me wrong, it was a waste of $11.50, but for two and a half hours it at least wasn’t dreadfully boring. In some alternative movie realm, it may actually qualify as a ‘fun but moronic thing to watch with friends’. I saw it with friends who all felt the same way, at best the movie qualifies as dumb fun. But it was still a piece of doodoo that I don’t intend on ever seeing again. I haven’t even the seen the 2007 Transformers movie and you can probably guess if this movie sparked my interest or not. What’s also kind of funny is that I spent $13 on nachos and a giant soda pop drink while seeing ‘Inglorious Basterds’ yesterday and I honestly feel that was a more appropriate use of cash. No joke. Now piss off and see ‘Inglorious Basterds’, which I recommend with borderline psychotic enthusiasm.

Shitty Albums By Great Bands Part II: ‘Point of Entry’ by Judas Priest

Judas Priest invade the same musical water as Black Sabbath; they’ve been around for a long time, have a massive discography and have shat out a few lazy excuses for ‘albums’ over their massive lifespan. ‘Point of Entry’ has a fairly interesting place in the Priest timeline (1981), it’s shovelled uncomfortably between the two classic albums ‘British Steel’ and ‘Screaming For Vengeance’, both of which are incredible examples of classic ‘power metal’. We can consider ‘Point of Entry’ to be the Freudian slip-up of the Priest discography, anything that was naggingly cheesy or commercial about it’s predecessors is basically in full swing here.

Judas Priest have always had great album covers…just not here. The image basically foreshadows my experience with the album: too many visions of pointy leather erections and too much empty space as well. This cover is just so lifeless once you get over the low-brow symbolism, so right off the bat it loses power. Below you will see the alternative cover, which I suspect Georgia O’Keefe would be proud of.

You get another sense of dissapointment by simply looking at the song titles. Here’s an example of the profound wittiness that Judas Priest show off in the form of tracklists on this album: “Heading Down the Highway”, “Don’t Go”, You Say Yes (I Say No)”, “On the Run” and the biggest, most horrible song title in the history of metal, “Hot Rockin”. Would you want to listen to this album, with those stunningly clever song titles? I wouldn’t. They could have at least tried to write something interesting, but no. I repeat: “Hot Rockin”. It just makes me feel dirty.

Yet another dissapointing aspect is how light the album is. At times you can debate how ‘metal’ this album is, especially compared to other Priest albums. This a more commerical (and less good) side of the band, not that being lighter necessarily makes a band bad (in 1986, the synth-rock plague hit Priest with the album ‘Turbo’, which reduced them to the ocassional synthesizer ballad, but at least the songs were fairly well composed). The production is good…in fact a little too good. It seems as if it’s trying to sound radio-friendly rather than show off the bands musical prowess. The epic leads and heavy/vulgar bass rythms have exited the room with a tip of the hat and wink of the eye, replaced with a slick, smug and overall lame guitar sound which sounds more dated than any other Priest album (except Turbo, of course). I can just picture some douche cranking ‘Hot Rockin’ in his car while honking at women and wearing is sunglasses at night. Yeah that’s right, this album is produced in a fashion which makes it suitable for ‘douchemobiling’. It’s a sterile and homogenous sound appealing to our inner ‘asshole car guy’.

Even if it lacked the snazzy production, the album would still feel formulaic. The music and lyrics are no where near as edgy and philosophical as you’d expect from Judas Priest, what happened to songs like ‘Beyond the Realms of Death’ or ‘Victim of the Changes’? The lyrics usually had a social, political or existential undertone, on ‘Point of Entry’ we get forgettable subject matter like cars and babes. I hate when metal bands write about stuff like that, it’s shallow and only a douche could relate to those songs. Don’t expect any memorable riffs or melodies with the guitars also, as the musicianship appears to only exist as a plain backdrop for the general ‘radio rock’ experience. By that I mean that it’s stimulating and catchy but lacks any long term appeal, it’s specifically catered for apathetic car ride listens where you enjoy the glossy noises and don’t bother to critique the music.

It may not be a train wreck like Sabbath’s ‘Born Again’, (and to be fair, PofE far from terrible) but even as a rabid fan of Judas Priest, there is really no re-listening value to this album. I listened to the whole album once and occassionally revisit ‘Hot Rockin’ for a laugh, but the thing Point of Entry lacks most is replay value. There are no riffs which cause you spontaneously break out in air guitar, no solos which hurl you off your porch. Because of the production it remains at least ‘listenable’ but other than that, there is no draw. There are noo memorable lyrics, the songs are completely interchangable, no experimentaton, etc. The only remarkable aspect is how homogeneous and dull it ends up sounding when compared to other Judas Priest albums. Here’s the video for ‘Hot Rockin’, which seems to be popping up in this review like herpes in Ashley Garbutt’s lower region (sure hope she doesn’t read this and subsequently devour me). The video seems more like an add for pride week or something by the village people.

Frontman Rob Halford didn’t become openly gay until 1998, but did anyone think he was straight? Really? Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but still…well, better out than in. Overall, I do NOT recommend this album to fans of Judas Priest. I however, encourage you to blast it in your fathers car while driving to your local 7/11 and revving your engine.

2.5 out of 5

Concert Review: Progressive Nation 2009 @ Molson Ampitheater (August 14, 2009)

A friend of mine (the frontman of my unsung ‘band’ Ammunite) recieved two free tickes to the concert known as ‘Progressive Nation’ off of some scene card or other points thing. After informing me that no ladies would accept his (completely uncreepy and gentle) offer to be progressive, he ended up inviting me, which is totally bloody awesome. The show consisted of progressive rock/metal bands, one of which I had seen two years ago at the very same location. That band is Dream Theater, who put on a damn fine show worth seeing twice as far as I’m concerned. Allow me to chronicle the show for all you not lucky enough to be invited to it by the frontman of your band.

As soon as we exit the driving vehicle and enter the Ampitheater area, we find ourselves in a strange bizarro world known as ‘The Land of Heavy Metal Distractions.’ Apparently my friends bullet belt is too risque for the venue, so we are forced to walk half way across the place and check it into a locker. que pesado. After that mishap, a slightly scantly clad woman on a podium insists that we get our pictue taken with her, free of charge. que animal. The podium is a giant add for the energy drink ‘Full Throttle’ so I guess they assume I’m going to brag about the picture to my friends and subliminally advertise the drink to them. Unable to resist without seeming like a douche, I got dressed up (from the nearby box of props they had) and made a very sad and sombre face, to spite them. Now none of my friends will never drink it because they associate it with depression. Suck it, industry!  After that, we get invited to some after party by some worker who CLEARLY cares if we actually show up. We got the wristbands and all, but it was 19 and over and I had shaved off my beard (no Tomfoolery and tricking my way in). Plus I’m pretty sure it’s just some big advertisement and the bands have no affiliation with it anyway, so no chilling with Dream Theater. Just hanging out with other berks getting advertisements handed to us.

After actually getting to our seats, the first band to play was ‘Scale the Summit’, some prog band from Texas that I’ve never heard of. In the middle of their set, they informed us how this was their first show in Toronto. Oh, what a histoical moment I’ve witnessed! There was no singer also, so either it was an instrumental band or they were unfamilar with Toronto stage venues and their vocalist got lost backstage. Nevertheless they put on a good sounding show, with all that hard-proggyness that I’ve come to love over years of listening to bands like Rush and King Crimson.

Next was…actually I wasn’t sure who it was. I was in the bathroom when they announced their name. By process of elimination it was either Zappa Plays Zappa or Bigelf (I was sure it wasn’t Dream Theater). The frontman kind of looked like Zappa, with the facial hair and general weirdness. But being a fairly avid fan of Frank Zappa, I figured it was Bigelf because I didn’t recognize any tunes (Zappa Plays Zappa is a tribute band in which Frank Zappa’s son Dweezil Zappa plays his daddies songs). I had never heard of Bigelf either, but it was an entertaining enough show. That frontguy seemed to be weird just for the sake of being weird though, with all the funny hats and playing a piano with his leg ontop of it. Fun stuff though, regardless.

Zappa Plays Zappa practically blew me away. Among the first things that Dweezil said to the crowd was “Ok! Who want’s to hear a song about dental hygeine?” and he followed up on his promise with a big 20-minute jazz fusion tune with lyics about flossing and such. The entire show was funny and probably my favourite thing of the night.

Then the big cahuna of the entire show, Dream Theater! I already knew what to expect, having seen them already: spectacular stagemanship, long solos for every instrument, mostly music and no talking to the crowd. Everyone started to stand, which put me into a heavy battle of wits and mannerisms with some old guy who was sitting a few rows behind me. When I stood, he was still sitting (because he’s old and has trouble standing I guess) and the motherfucker came up to me and asked “Could you sit down please?”.  Immediatly I thought to myself “ok, Mike. Use your cunning. You can get out of this without making a big scene.” So I hatched a plan.

I said “yeah, ok” and sat down, but it was far from over. For the next few minutes I would ocassionaly look over my shoulder and make a subtle/sad face to make it seem as if he ruined the show for me. I wanted to sort of guilt trip him for asking me to sit. Seriously, who askes someone to sit when everyone (about 90% of people in my area) are standing up? Blocking his view? Why don’t you block this! (grabs crotch) Eventually my mental bithcing won and I recieved the message “you don’t have to sit if you don’t want to” HAAAAAA. I won, sure showed that guy.

I won’t waste time describing Dream Theaters show, which is incredible. Go see it for yourself. That whole night was kick arse, and totally free except that I bought some cokes. I still have the ticket, under the admission it just says ‘xxx.xxx’, as it was FREE. Suckas!

Shitty Albums By Great Bands Part I: ‘Born Again’ by Black Sabbath

Black Sabbath are one of the greatest bands to ever rock the Earth. They’re untouchable, even less so than the menstruating chaste daughters of the king of celebacy (don’t think about that too hard, I certainly didn’t). That doesn’t mean they haven’t released their fair share of shitty albums, as they have. Out of the 20-or-so albums they’ve released in their 40-some-year career, there’s a good half dozen which would qualify as ‘mediocre crap that I only listened to because it bears the name of Black Sabbath’. Of those I have chosen one album to review, the absolute biggest failure and stinkiest disc in the history of round things of the Black Sabbath universe. That album is 1983′s ’Born Again’.

Look at that cover. According to allmusic.com, it’s been voted one of the ‘worst ever’. Personally I think it’s the best part of the entire album, it looks like Andy Warhol having buttsex with a Belgian symbolist painter (lame art analogy). It’s such a strange image when you compare it to to other Sabbath album covers though; it’s not dark, it doesn’t appear to have any atmosphere or distinction, and I swear I’ve never seen the band logo in that font anywhere else. Overall I kind of like it, if you want a shittier album cover you see their 1986 album ‘Seventh Star’.

Now for a brief history lesson. As of this release (1983) every member of the original Black Sabbath (except Ozzy) was actually IN Black Sabbath, which is rare for an obscure release by this band. They’re notorious for having a gazillion line-up changes but the only deviation here is the frontman, so there is NO excuse for this album being horrible. Vocal duties are given to none other than the all-mighty Ian Gillan, former frontman of Deep Purple. This would lead to a casual listener approaching this album with high expectations, as Deep Purple are another excellent 70′s classic metal band. Not only will such people be dissapointed, but anyone with any hope for this album will be chewed up and shit out the anus of this abomanation known as ‘Born Again’. The title is ironic, instead of being born the normal way, this album is a dead fetus which came out the back door. Disgusting but completely appropriate.

The first thing you notice when the album starts up is how piss-poor the knob job is. In other words, the production sucks a big one. It’s so awful that (this is a fact!) many radio stations actually refused to play singles off it on the basis of the sound quality alone. That’s pretty amazing, especially since an act as big as Black Sabbath should at least get a decent sound producer. Other mediocre Sabbath albums at least sounded good. Bad sound quality doesn’t make it horrible automatically, but holy mother of hell. Did anybody in the studio think this sounded good? What kind of battery acid were they smoking when they mixed this?

Once you get over the sound quality, another issue arises. The MUSIC quality. Through and through, the entire album is jejune, repeditive, and lacks any real direction. The upbeat vocals of Ian Gillan simply do not mix with the dark voodoo of Iommi’s guitar, which supports my statement ‘no direction’.  This is the only (Sabbath) album to feature Gillan on vocals and that fact is completely justifiable. It all just sounds like a jumbled heavy metal mess, the bass section also rumbles inarticulately because of the mix. It’s fairly dark but not really morbid or scary in any way, it seems dark in a sense of lightbulb burning out rather than a dark scary forest or something. The riffs aren’t particularily emtional or catchy or challenging, they’re kind of…there. Same goes for the afformentioned unfitting vocals, you’d expect a poetic scarf-wearing student who pens incredible short stories but instead you end up with a shy poser-goth kid who writes unmemorable stanzas. That’s right, I don’t recall anything compelling about the lyrics either. Overall it feels like a bunch of professional musicians fighting over who gets to write the songs, rather than a collective effort in which everone’s talents are utilized.

‘Born Again’ is just empty, boring and devoid of anything interesting you’d normally look for in a Black Sabbath album. I’ve heard worse (as far as mediocre hard rock is concerned, it’s still better than anything Wolfmother and Jet have ever released) but as an album released by some of the greatest talents in hard rock history, it fails miserably.  Therefore, this album has little to no value and cannot be enjoyed by anyone. Thank you. Actually screw off and listen to a decent Sabbath album, there are plenty. Just not this one.

2 out of 5