I fucking adore Clockcleaner. Just go through the archives here and you can see me fellate the band whenever I get the chance. Too bad they ain't around anymore but John Sharkey can still inspire in ways beyond music: having the balls to talk shit on bands most fans/writers bestow graceful prose upon just because some random tastemaker did.
Hey, Clockcleaner was one of those bands (sort of) at one point, but the main crux of the writing about them was focused on their attitude and notoriety and the fact that every band in Philadelphia hated them. Weak, pussy journalism. Anyways, here is Clockleaner on the Practice Space thing (I re-discovered this when I was pulling the LiveFastDie vid) discussing peeing on Bad Wizard's merch table. Come back to America, John. Or at least wreck Austrailia like Nick Cave did in his teens.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
The Cage Family: Modern Mediocrities
Okay, we all know who Nicholas Cage is and how he USED to rock shit in movies like Wild at Heart. Well, I'm not sure if he actually rocked house as much as gave over to his rabid Elvis obsession but with Lynch it worked out pretty well. I dig Leaving Las Vegas but hey, what over privelaged asshole can't act like an over privelaged asshole alcoholic convincingly? The point is, Nic Cage is weak as fuck as evidenced over...everything he has fucking done from Con Air on. Jesus titty fucking christ what kind of random, made up Southern accent was that? "Put...tha...bunnayah...dahwn!"Still, we would wait years for him to hit his lowest. Here it is in a couple of minutes.
He can't even walk convincingly in those scenes let alone read a line without making you wonder if he is intellectually disabled. But it gets worse for poe ole Cameron Poe. He has a spoiled 19 year old (hey, if you go to Beverly Hills High on a scholarship holler at me and then I'll retract that last statement) with a fashion line (wonder who paid for that, pops!), named Weston (or as he prefers his friends to call him, Arcane),with a shitty metal band. Eyes of Nocturn.
Just the name alone...I...can't...BWAHAHAHAHAH!...just check out the video. Or, if you'd prefer skip to my thoughts below.
Look, I would rather spend a random night at a Fitzgerald's battle of the bands than have to listen to this garbage again. Great, Weston or Wicked Wes or Arcane or Shithead Cage. There are a lot of moronic 19 year olds who think Cradle of Filth is something to worship and props to having the funds to deck you and your band out in the hottest goth-metal-tard couture. The fact is, you suck. You know it, the corpse painted drones that can barely piece two chords together know and the three people politely clapping in the audience fucking know it too. THREE PEOPLE! And who the fuck was the guy giving the fist bump to your mongo bassist after the song? His dad? Well, guess it makes up for all the soccer games he missed which lead to his "brooding" and "dark" state.
It's cool that your (more than likely) overpriced shit you call fashion donates the proceeds (I'd like to see a balance sheet to see what the costs were, by the way) to underprivelaged moms but how about you be as charitable to music fans and just fucking stop. With Attack Attack!, Brokencyde, the Millionaires, Coldplay...god there's just too many to list...save us the suffering of another vanity project from some shithead Hollywood asshole who didn't have the balls to curtail his kids "creativity" by being honest and telling him he sucks worse than H.I.'s forehead in National Treasure.
This quote is the most telling, ""I come from a lineage of great artists," he said. "I just want to contribute to my genre and honor my family." Goddamn, I honestly don't know if you're succeeding or failing. Let's go with failing. Oh, and one last thing. Take those gauntlets on your forearms and BASH YOURSELF IN THE BALLS REALLY FUCKING HARD so we can be sure this "lineage of great artists" ends with your diaper stain.
Friday, July 3, 2009
LiveFastDie is Done.
Goddamnit. All we got was one incredibly trashy album (Bandana Thrash, which I finally scored on vinyl after performing my first reading) and a bunch of killer 7"s. Wait, what the fuck am I saying? That's way more than I had any right to expect from the purveyors of such classics as "Bombed over Sixpackistan," "Fat Guy with an iPod," "Passing Out (in Front of the Children)" and the inimitable "Pissing on the Mainframe" (which you can hear shortly).
I drove with my girlfriend at the time up to SXSW a few years ago early as FUCK so we could catch LiveFastDie and get trashed before Turbonegro. It was pretty rockin'. Ian from the Riverboat Gamblers couldn't believe how fast they were live and let me tell you, brother, it wasn't a bad thing. Of course, Angela bitching at me about taking a Jager shot every other song was the only downer of what would've been an otherwise perfect rock 'n' roll experience. Hopefully, Camero Werewolf and co. will bring about some new scumpunk ventures but until then we can only weep that there won't be any more debaucherous and drunken insanity that there music stood to represent. And yes, I know the interviewer is a dork (oh really, sherlock? they're songs are about things? I never knew music worked like that!)
I drove with my girlfriend at the time up to SXSW a few years ago early as FUCK so we could catch LiveFastDie and get trashed before Turbonegro. It was pretty rockin'. Ian from the Riverboat Gamblers couldn't believe how fast they were live and let me tell you, brother, it wasn't a bad thing. Of course, Angela bitching at me about taking a Jager shot every other song was the only downer of what would've been an otherwise perfect rock 'n' roll experience. Hopefully, Camero Werewolf and co. will bring about some new scumpunk ventures but until then we can only weep that there won't be any more debaucherous and drunken insanity that there music stood to represent. And yes, I know the interviewer is a dork (oh really, sherlock? they're songs are about things? I never knew music worked like that!)
Sunday, June 28, 2009
The Rise of Douche-Core: Part Deux...che! Girls Turn!
first off, the Dead Kennedy checked out the douche-core post today and while his jaw was resting comfortably on his balls he did make this comment about Brokencyde and their brethren, "I think I hate this more than I hate religion." Looks like "Jihad for Rock 'N' Roll Motherfuckers" might get retired!
I have a friend at work with whom I trade horrendous music videos on Facebook and through this some other folks decided to experience the audio raping that is Brokencyde. One of the kids, turned me on to a band that is along the same lines but is female. And...I...oh Bog just experience it for yourself. Sorry, in advance.
. Okay, skanks, I'm sorry the Suicide Girls decided to have standards and told you to take a hike but recording an album as a means of revenge just means that we all have to suffer your poorly thought out, sub-Rock of Love Bus whoredom. Look, I get it. You were scene whores who trolled around with the hipsters who then passed you around like a mirror full of coke in Studio 54 only to be castigated to desperate booty call status because they felt you were meh enough that their peers wouldn't make fun of them for fucking you. Hey, that was wrong, but obviously you were willing participants in the scenario and felt that breaking your pelvis in two to more easily imbibe Decemberists' Fan #1's seed was a sure fire way to become Queens of the Scene! Didn't work out so well, huh?
I'm sorry your parents wouldn't let you cake on pounds of make-up in middle school (it helps hide the herpes sores in your video though, so, props for learning necessity) but is that need to create a superficial image of a vapid whore who wants nothing more than men to fawn over her for some arbitrary standard of beauty only to exploit them in revenge for the way you were exploited so expulsivlry urgent to your soul that it warranted a song, let alone video? It seems counterproductive to me.
And, hey, Millionaires, I'm sorry to get so shallow here but I lower my standard of critique based on what's placed in front of me: are you pulling the whole MySpace picture deal? You know, you we can't see any of you from the neck down so how do we know you're not all hogzilla past the equator? Or that your tits are lopsided? Or that I would be able to see the syphilis leaking out your vag down your leg?
Like I said, it's a bullshit, arbitrary standard of beauty (well, except the STD thing. No one is gonna defend that) but you obviously want to play up the coy, ditzy ready to "take off [your] underwear" party girl aspect musically and asthetically so it's only fair to be honest.
Or how about this. You quit playing music. Quit being empty, shallow, and lame and listen to some Bikini Kill records. And your casual attitude towards exploiting your sexuality (well, I'm not sure you have any but you seem arrogant enough to act like you do so I'll play along) to dupe mongoloid male's into satiating your desire for booze seems destined for an end that is sure to be unpleasant but given your music and lyrics might not be entirely undeserved. I hope you skanks get an offer to be Phil Spector's new girl group.
I have a friend at work with whom I trade horrendous music videos on Facebook and through this some other folks decided to experience the audio raping that is Brokencyde. One of the kids, turned me on to a band that is along the same lines but is female. And...I...oh Bog just experience it for yourself. Sorry, in advance.
I'm sorry your parents wouldn't let you cake on pounds of make-up in middle school (it helps hide the herpes sores in your video though, so, props for learning necessity) but is that need to create a superficial image of a vapid whore who wants nothing more than men to fawn over her for some arbitrary standard of beauty only to exploit them in revenge for the way you were exploited so expulsivlry urgent to your soul that it warranted a song, let alone video? It seems counterproductive to me.
And, hey, Millionaires, I'm sorry to get so shallow here but I lower my standard of critique based on what's placed in front of me: are you pulling the whole MySpace picture deal? You know, you we can't see any of you from the neck down so how do we know you're not all hogzilla past the equator? Or that your tits are lopsided? Or that I would be able to see the syphilis leaking out your vag down your leg?
Like I said, it's a bullshit, arbitrary standard of beauty (well, except the STD thing. No one is gonna defend that) but you obviously want to play up the coy, ditzy ready to "take off [your] underwear" party girl aspect musically and asthetically so it's only fair to be honest.
Or how about this. You quit playing music. Quit being empty, shallow, and lame and listen to some Bikini Kill records. And your casual attitude towards exploiting your sexuality (well, I'm not sure you have any but you seem arrogant enough to act like you do so I'll play along) to dupe mongoloid male's into satiating your desire for booze seems destined for an end that is sure to be unpleasant but given your music and lyrics might not be entirely undeserved. I hope you skanks get an offer to be Phil Spector's new girl group.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
The Rise of Douche-core (Temporary Term Until I Come Up with Something Better)
America has an infatuation with people of the lowest common denominator. We revel in the trash tabloid antics of reality TV stars, go nuts over books and blogs dealing with insufferable, extremely ego-maniacal specimens of humanity and just can't wait until these people actually end up recording albums.
The number 1 dream of most kids is to be a pop-star (I was willing to split it about dead even with movie star but since most movie stars desperatley want to shit out a record I think my final assertion is correct) and for many who find fame via a leaked sex tape, an E! tv series or even YouTube stars this is the desired goal of all their self-inflicted humilation and vicious public dissection of personality. While their music always fucking sucked at least you knew they had to suffer somewhat before their dreams were finally crushed and they were thrown back to the confines of the Vh1 meat grinder. Now, we have bands that have bypassed that whole scene and are exploding into mainstream consciousness with some of the most dull, horrid and bafflingly popular music. It's like these people went into an A & R dickhead's office and pitched themselves and the music was tailored to fit their extra vinegary scent of failure.
Welcome to Douche-Core, people. Whereas it would make sense for some dumb cunt with big fake tits like Heidi from the Hills to drop an album (in logical terms it actually doesn't. There is no way in hell anyone should let that bitch within ten feet of even a karaoke machine. But, because these wasted souls are such attention whores looking to exploit the Us Weekly readers and gossip hounds for as much cash as possible they have to offer as much product as possible before they move on to the next pop-culture car crash) the fact that Asher Roth, Brokencyde and ThreeOh3! have shat thier wretchedness onto wax and the internet signals a new low in the human race. Not only because these bands exist but because people are eagerly wallowing in their output. Hey, I wouldn't be talking about these fucking twats unless they had made enough of a ripple to make in my radar via work (oh yeah, the popped collar crowd goes nuts for Asher and Three while the Hot Topic poodle-core kids can't get enough of Brokencyde) or random shit talking on music blogs.
When I tell friends about just how fucking appalling this shit is they immediately accuse me of self-righteous hyperbole. Well, here is Exhibit fucking A: Brokencyde:
Wow. There is so much wrong there I don't know where to begin. The Flock of Seagulls haircuts? The preponderance of hot pink and 80's day-glo attire? The bored looking skanks? The insanely disgusting misogny? Oh wait, these are aesthetic complaints and I'm here to bitch about the music exclusively. Okay. WHO THE FUCK THOUGHT ANYTHING IN THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA? It's like the beat was ripped from one of those clubs you find New Jersey guido's with orange tan and rock hard spiked hair trying to date rape some shore chicks. Let's ignore the auto-tuner because that shit has been beat into the ground and it's understandable for a bunch of white, suburban New Mexico dorks to worship and mimic anything Kanye West does but the screamo shit? YYYYYOOOOOOOOOOOW! Really? I guarantee you the band meeting when they decided to include that garbage (maybe at a later date we can imagine the one where the decided to have the mascot from Piggly Wiggly in the band) went something like this:
Poodle-core Brah #1: Brah, man that beat is so tight and yo like my rhymes about bitches and shit gettin' messay and not wantin' them dykes around cuz they fuck with my penis flow are DA BOMB but we just sound like every otha whitey shorty (high pitched voice) PLAYA PLAYA out in the game and deez streets. We gotsta set ourselves apart and pay respect that yo-core shit that is our ROOTZ, DAWG!
Poodle-core Brah #2: For reelz, homie. We be whack without something for dem hoes at Visible Changes who hooked us up with this fly dye-job and feathered spikes to get wet over. They always be clocking my shit when I'm shopping for fresh lime green and hot pink duds at da Hot Topic. Wait, that's it son! We gon do that screamin' shit like those bands they play in the store! You spits that hot fiyah and I'll go YOOOOOOOOOOW! after the verse and we'll get like all dem suburban shorties panties MOIST, PLAYA!
Poodle-core Brah #1: DAAAAAAMN! That is some smart shit son! Dad, yo pops! You bankrollin' dis here piece so what you think?
Poodle-Core Brah #1's Dad who is financing his fuck up child's retarded musical endeavor: Well son, it is always good to cross promote yourself and to diversify you're musical style so that it can attract as wide a crowd as possible.
(Poodle-core Brah's stare at each other like Stephen Hawking just delivered a speech on physics)
Poodle-core Brah #1: Soooooo? You'll still front us the cake, pops?
Dad: (sighs) Yes, Bradley. (flips the kid his check book then retreats to his bedroom to swallow a shotgun)
Now we get MTV whoring this bile out and don't the kids just love it. All three of these talentless (sorry, I expended all of my hatred on Brokencyde and do not want to suffer through Asher Roth or ThreeOH3! again) assholes are gaining in popularity and duping a generation who was weaned on Limp Bizkit into further musical idiocy. It's bands and fads like this that really make me glad the record industry is almost fucking dead.
The number 1 dream of most kids is to be a pop-star (I was willing to split it about dead even with movie star but since most movie stars desperatley want to shit out a record I think my final assertion is correct) and for many who find fame via a leaked sex tape, an E! tv series or even YouTube stars this is the desired goal of all their self-inflicted humilation and vicious public dissection of personality. While their music always fucking sucked at least you knew they had to suffer somewhat before their dreams were finally crushed and they were thrown back to the confines of the Vh1 meat grinder. Now, we have bands that have bypassed that whole scene and are exploding into mainstream consciousness with some of the most dull, horrid and bafflingly popular music. It's like these people went into an A & R dickhead's office and pitched themselves and the music was tailored to fit their extra vinegary scent of failure.
Welcome to Douche-Core, people. Whereas it would make sense for some dumb cunt with big fake tits like Heidi from the Hills to drop an album (in logical terms it actually doesn't. There is no way in hell anyone should let that bitch within ten feet of even a karaoke machine. But, because these wasted souls are such attention whores looking to exploit the Us Weekly readers and gossip hounds for as much cash as possible they have to offer as much product as possible before they move on to the next pop-culture car crash) the fact that Asher Roth, Brokencyde and ThreeOh3! have shat thier wretchedness onto wax and the internet signals a new low in the human race. Not only because these bands exist but because people are eagerly wallowing in their output. Hey, I wouldn't be talking about these fucking twats unless they had made enough of a ripple to make in my radar via work (oh yeah, the popped collar crowd goes nuts for Asher and Three while the Hot Topic poodle-core kids can't get enough of Brokencyde) or random shit talking on music blogs.
When I tell friends about just how fucking appalling this shit is they immediately accuse me of self-righteous hyperbole. Well, here is Exhibit fucking A: Brokencyde:
Wow. There is so much wrong there I don't know where to begin. The Flock of Seagulls haircuts? The preponderance of hot pink and 80's day-glo attire? The bored looking skanks? The insanely disgusting misogny? Oh wait, these are aesthetic complaints and I'm here to bitch about the music exclusively. Okay. WHO THE FUCK THOUGHT ANYTHING IN THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA? It's like the beat was ripped from one of those clubs you find New Jersey guido's with orange tan and rock hard spiked hair trying to date rape some shore chicks. Let's ignore the auto-tuner because that shit has been beat into the ground and it's understandable for a bunch of white, suburban New Mexico dorks to worship and mimic anything Kanye West does but the screamo shit? YYYYYOOOOOOOOOOOW! Really? I guarantee you the band meeting when they decided to include that garbage (maybe at a later date we can imagine the one where the decided to have the mascot from Piggly Wiggly in the band) went something like this:
Poodle-core Brah #1: Brah, man that beat is so tight and yo like my rhymes about bitches and shit gettin' messay and not wantin' them dykes around cuz they fuck with my penis flow are DA BOMB but we just sound like every otha whitey shorty (high pitched voice) PLAYA PLAYA out in the game and deez streets. We gotsta set ourselves apart and pay respect that yo-core shit that is our ROOTZ, DAWG!
Poodle-core Brah #2: For reelz, homie. We be whack without something for dem hoes at Visible Changes who hooked us up with this fly dye-job and feathered spikes to get wet over. They always be clocking my shit when I'm shopping for fresh lime green and hot pink duds at da Hot Topic. Wait, that's it son! We gon do that screamin' shit like those bands they play in the store! You spits that hot fiyah and I'll go YOOOOOOOOOOW! after the verse and we'll get like all dem suburban shorties panties MOIST, PLAYA!
Poodle-core Brah #1: DAAAAAAMN! That is some smart shit son! Dad, yo pops! You bankrollin' dis here piece so what you think?
Poodle-Core Brah #1's Dad who is financing his fuck up child's retarded musical endeavor: Well son, it is always good to cross promote yourself and to diversify you're musical style so that it can attract as wide a crowd as possible.
(Poodle-core Brah's stare at each other like Stephen Hawking just delivered a speech on physics)
Poodle-core Brah #1: Soooooo? You'll still front us the cake, pops?
Dad: (sighs) Yes, Bradley. (flips the kid his check book then retreats to his bedroom to swallow a shotgun)
Now we get MTV whoring this bile out and don't the kids just love it. All three of these talentless (sorry, I expended all of my hatred on Brokencyde and do not want to suffer through Asher Roth or ThreeOH3! again) assholes are gaining in popularity and duping a generation who was weaned on Limp Bizkit into further musical idiocy. It's bands and fads like this that really make me glad the record industry is almost fucking dead.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Why are You People Freaking Out Over this Fucktard?
Usually, I wouldn't waste my hatred ranting about shit like American Idol but the whole Adam Lambert deal is just confusing the ever lovin' shit outta me. Of course, the fact that people would worship some schmuck just cause they won an arbitrary karaoke contest is beyond my comprehension but folks are treating this guy-liner sporting twat like the second coming. Weep, for the state of modern music, my friends.So, homeboy is on the cover of the new Rolling Stone and I've had customers at work flip the fuck out over the rag even willing to pay a five dollar shipping fee since they can't make it over to pick up a copy (what are there no Stop N Go's near your house?). It's really funny to me how people seem to think this kid has an edge or is representing anything remotely close to rock 'n' roll. He's just another asshole who has servicable pipes and wants to ride the major label gravy train until the world moves onto the next big parade. When I explain this to people (usually dressed in wretched 80's throwback attire and neon) they get upset and tell me the Rolling Stone interview has a lot of juicy tidbits and sets him apart from past Idol contestants.
Spoiler, idiots, no it doesn't. He is no different than anyone else on the show and let me explain this to you point by point playing devils advocate to set up the arguments.
1. HE'S GAY!
Whoopdie shit. Is that really the most compelling thing about this asshat? The fact that he likes the cock and is open about it? Besides, you knew he was gay before he outed himself in Rolling Stone (for fucks sakes Entertainment Weekly pretty much outed him when they did a cover story on him). Is that such a big deal for you that we have a pop star that is into the same sex? Boy George, Elton John, George Michael...the list goes on forever of successful gay men who have wrecked the pop charts while never hiding their sexuality (and if you ever had a doubt about George Michael seek help). So what's the big deal about him saying, "Yeah, I'm gay," in print? How does that add to your enthusiasm for him? Does he go into detail about how prefers facials, grabs ankles and considers himself a bottom? NO. Besides, Clay Aiken did the same exact thing except he waited a few years to admit to the truth when he desperately needed publicity. Get the fuck over it.
2. He's a rocker!
No, he's not. Just because he picked good tunes (I've never seen the show but know of the songs he butchered) doesn't mean he is some devil may care rebel out to revolutionize the American Idol brand. He is a simple yes man doing whatever the puppet masters at his label impart upon him. American Idol stars' albums follow whatever trend is popular in music at the time and since Green Day is the biggest band on the planet they decided to go with the kid who likes to shriek and will appeal to the rowdy side of the teeny bopper set. Besides, Bo Bice and Chris Daughtry already did it. Oh and let's not ignore the fact the he slaughtered EVERY SINGLE FUCKING SONG he sang. He robbed "Mad World" of all it's impact and beauty with a blase cover. His Johnny Cash go? Fucking dreadfull and I'm sure the Man in Black is spinning in his grave right now. And how the fuck dare do you cover Queen. There is no way in hell you could move people the way Freddy Mercury did. That man could lift you to the top of the mountain or drag you to hell with his voice. And double fuck you since because you're gay you should know not to disgrace a pioneer like Freddy fucking Mercury.
3. OMG! An American Idol that Does Drugs? HOT!
Wow, it's almost like they want these kids to act like actual rock stars! Soccer moms be damned! Oh wait, there was some fat chick who was on Celebrity Rehab for being a coke-head and a drunk. Yeah, strike three, Adam. Fuck off and tell your cult of fans to drink the purple Kool-Aid.
And in case you were wondering, yes, I fucking hate myself for knowing this much about American Idol.
Monday, May 25, 2009
The Most Fucking Epic Request I've Gotten from a Mexico City Tourist
It's no lie that I hate the fresas (thanks, Bianca!). You know the wealthy as fuck tourists from Mexico City who come down to Texas and instantly begin to act like Euro-Trash, tossing cash around like they're PacMan Jones, treating the staff wherever they go like shit and just existing as all around examples of failed humanity.
I used to think it was the book store that got the brunt of the bullshit from these fuckers but after hanging out with fellow slaves to the Galleria (even some who used to work there a decade ago) I've found I'm not alone. We all fucking hate these people and their endless amounts of cash and excessive demands (no, cockstain, season five of Lost is not out yet) and happiness at watching their children wreck shit while screaming out for one another at the top of their lungs. But, I met one guy who made me realize maybe all the mini-fresas aren't just emo-manga-Twihard-dorks (most insane requests are made at the behest of the litte brats at home). Some of them actually know good shit. This is what I got asked for while the only other punk rocker employed at my store stood by as our jaws simultaneously dropped and turned into big Charlie Brown grins.
I used to think it was the book store that got the brunt of the bullshit from these fuckers but after hanging out with fellow slaves to the Galleria (even some who used to work there a decade ago) I've found I'm not alone. We all fucking hate these people and their endless amounts of cash and excessive demands (no, cockstain, season five of Lost is not out yet) and happiness at watching their children wreck shit while screaming out for one another at the top of their lungs. But, I met one guy who made me realize maybe all the mini-fresas aren't just emo-manga-Twihard-dorks (most insane requests are made at the behest of the litte brats at home). Some of them actually know good shit. This is what I got asked for while the only other punk rocker employed at my store stood by as our jaws simultaneously dropped and turned into big Charlie Brown grins.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
