My Bloody High School Roots

[originally posted on tumblr]

Last night i went to see a band that i was really into in high school. I always think that doing that kind of thing is a good idea, for some reason.

I'm talking about Sepultura. Back in high school i couldn't really afford a lot of CDs, but when i had money, that's what it went toward, generally. So often, if i'd find them at garage sales for, say, five bucks, i'd consider it a good investment almost regardless of what it was. I think that such was the tale for how i was exposed to Sepultura, when i grabbed Chaos A.D. for maybe two bucks. It had an interesting cover. I was into metal. Or so i thought. I'm not even going to tell you what my definition of "metal" would have been in high school (1999-2003, if you want to figure this out for yourself). Needless to say, Sepultura changed that. Chaos A.D. was unlike anything i'd heard at that point, and it was hypnotic, particularly the tracks Refuse/Resist and Biotech Is Godzilla.

I've since obtained about eight Sepultura albums, and in recent years my interest in them has waned. But, similar to the time i saw Meat Puppets a few years ago, when the opportunity to see them live came up, i decided that it was probably one of those things i should do before they die. After all, Sepultura formed the same year that i was born.

The first band, Havok, was alright. Nothing to write home about, but they did the job. Thomas was really excited about them, Bob thought they were ok, and that covers my group pretty well. It should be noted that Bob and Thomas are both members of my band, damidol.

I don't even remember the name of the second band, but we all thought they were boring, for speed metal. Their songs all sounded the same, and caused me to remark to Bob, "I've been watching their guitarist. Why do we play punk music? Metal seems easier." Midway through their set, Thomas had somehow started talking to these two middle-aged women standing near us, and disappeared with them toward the bar. When they were done playing, Bob and i ventured toward the bar. We learned that one of these women was Sepultura's accountant, and the other was her friend, who is a doctor. They were good company, we chatted throughout the lull in the show and partway through the next band, Death Angel. They bought us some drinks. Death Angel was pretty good, good stage presence, good music. Thomas and i did some moshing. Blah blah blah. I guess i don't really have much to say about it.

So when Sepultura came on, fulfilling a desire i've harbored for over a decade, an emotion swelled up from my guts, fully encompassing me. It was disappointment.

When your drummer has the most stage presence of the band, and your singer, who is not also playing an instrument, has the least, something's wrong. I mean, these guys played fast and heavy, just like i expected and just like i wanted to hear, but onstage, they mostly just stand there. Their vocalist, Derrick Green, is great while he's singing, but when he's not, he just kind of stands there and either bangs his head (just his head...his body doesn't move), or air drums. Air drums! Think about that for a minute.

Are you picturing a gigantic black man air drumming while two old hispanic guys rock out on either side of him with a shirtless white 20-year-old beats the fuck out of real drums behind him?
Also i'm a little bitter because, for the first hour of the set, there were these two guys standing right in front of me that kept carelessly backing into me, which was inconsiderate enough considering i had my back to a wall and i was there first, but they kept talking to each other the whole time. I'd try to move left or right a bit to get away from them, but they'd fucking move with me! It was really infuriating because, of course, i was trying to bootleg the show and was holding my H2 right at about shoulder level, or right where their stupid conversation was taking place. I haven't listened to my recording yet, but i really hope they're not prominent or anything.

They played Refuse/Resist second, and they didn't play Biotech Is Godzilla...but they did play Territory so i'm pretty ok with that. They played a two song encore, and after the first one, Derrick Green was trying to incite the audience to shout along with the last song, whether they knew the words or not. I turned to Thomas and shrugged, saying, "Biotech Is Godzilla?" He gave me the toothy, sympathetic "no fucking way" grin and shook his head, because of course it was Roots.

All in all, they played for just over an hour and a half, which certainly isn't bad, and they still sound great almost three decades in, and for a band with no original members left (i know Paulo Jr. has played bass on all of their albums, but he missed the founding of the band by i think about a year), but they just don't put on an exciting show.

And, for the record, Biotech is STILL Godzilla.

We're All Buried in the Nude

[originally posted on tumblr]


Today was kind of a shitty day. It's not normally my way to gripe about a shitty day, since we all have shitty days, and no one wants to read about someone else's shitty day, as a general principle. But this is going somewhere. Feel free to skip down to the seventh paragraph, if you'd like to come straight to the point.

Today i worked my ass off to finish a project that should've been done a week ago, or by Wednesday at least, and i still struggled with it because i massively underestimated the amount of work there was to be done, and also, because my computer was constantly crashing. On top of that, i've been sick since Tuesday (though i only just admitted it yesterday, when i interrupted my rhythm at work to go down to Walgreen's for DayQuil and orange juice, and proceeded to hit that DayQuil as hard as is legally acceptable), so my concentration hasn't been what it should be. After the project was finally finished, i barely had time to shovel in some food and speed downtown to get to the show on time, the show i've had on my calendar for two months now and was giddy like Geddy Lee to see.

It's a good thing i checked Facebook before i left the office, because the venue had changed. I'd have been pretty upset if i'd found that out after going to the wrong place, especially since, for either venue, getting there involves traversing the University of Wisconsin campus on a Friday night, where the streets are rife with drunken college students who don't know the difference between a "DON'T WALK" sign and a neon PBR, teasing them from just across this open expanse of perfectly safe four lane blacktop that has no business being between a drunken college student and a PBR. Note: sarcasm. Just thought i'd point that out there.

I got to the Memorial Union at 9:05, or 5 minutes after the show was to begin. I didn't know the order of the bands so i was freaking out that i'd missed something important. I didn't have any change to feed the meter, but there was still 5 minutes on it, so i figured i'd go inside and buy a soda quick so i could get some quarters, and find out the status of the bands. It took a little longer than expected, and the first band sounded like hipsters (they were just soundchecking, too; turns out the show was at 9:30), and by the time i walked out of the building at 9:17 (i know the exact time because i texted someone as i was walking out the door), there was already a $30 parking ticket on my vehicle. I'm so glad the UW Campus Police are so adamant about patrolling meters less than an hour before they stop being enforced. Seriously, in that seven minute window...goddammit. I'll probably mail a sarcastic letter with my payment.

I felt creepy and old hanging around Der Rathskeller with all the college students who appeared too young for their beverages, and i was thoroughly uninspired by the look of the bands and most of the people around...hipsters are a funny concept, on the internet. In the wild, herds of them are a weird and uncomfortable sight to behold. So i went for a walk down State Street and sent some random texts to amuse myself. It turns out it wasn't that amusing. I went back to the venue, the first band was well into their set, and i walked up front and tried to give the impression i was enjoying myself, but if the band doesn't even look like they're enjoying themselves, why should i give a shit?

The second band was almost unbearable, just a bunch of hipster wanking and self-important "we're so deep" bullshit. Actually, that may be an unfair assessment, i couldn't understand the lyrics, but i could understand the fans that were walking by my table just outside Der Rathskeller, where i sat reading The Onion. The bottom line is, their music was boring. BORING. I was feeling shittier and shittier about my parking ticket, and thought about leaving out of disgust. It's a good thing the show itself was free.

And finally, and this is the important part, i was re-educated in the most important lesson i learned in middle school: good music will have a profound emotional impact on you. Always. When Screaming Females, the band i'd put up with all that bullshit to see, finally took the stage, i instantly - instantly! No joke! - forgot about every single shitty aspect of the previous 24 hours and about how stuffed my head felt and all the coughing and sneezing. It all just went away. What followed was forty-one minutes of the purest form of bliss.

I love CDs. I love recorded music because i can listen to it whenever i need it and it'll do more extensive things to your mind and consciousness than any illicit substance could ever hope to. But live music is approximately infinity times more potent. When that first song ripped through me, about six rows back (can't stand in front, i'm a bootlegger for life and i don't want my shit getting distorted), there was a feeling that came over me that i don't often get even seeing other bands that i love. Maybe the music of Screaming Females is drugs. I don't know. All i know is that, unlike either of their tourmates, you can feel every bit of soul and passion that they have in each and every single note.

On a more technical level, i'm convinced that Marissa Paternoster is the greatest guitarist since Carrie Brownstein. See, i may not have ever said this out loud before, but in general, i hate guitar solos. Hate them. It's cool when a band does one every once in a while, but after a few it becomes just so much wanking (then again, i've said constantly that i think the most important part of a song is lyrics, but that's a tangent for another time - or never). Screaming Females, i've decided after seeing them live, are absolutely the exception. Well, the second exception - i'll make a lot of concessions for Rush. But when you see (if you can see - Marissa's pretty short, and from six rows back...), or hear, Marissa Paternoster launch into a guitar solo, and you will hear it often, you feel that something special has happened, that you're actually lucky to be in the presence of the master. If i were talking about literally any other guitarist, i would feel dirty just saying something like that. Maybe i just feel this way because i've never seen a guitarist with such skill act so humble on stage. And i appreciate that.

They didn't come back for an encore, even though everyone was yelling. And they didn't come out to talk to anyone afterward, either, which was really disappointing. And often, if a band acts like that, it sullies my opinion of them. But in this particular case, the music itself speaks louder than anything the band could have done. It's not like they were actively douchey (even though they're from New Jersey), they just weren't very interactive. Maybe they're socially awkward. I can relate to that.

So here's my one-sentence review: If you have a musical bucket list, a list of bands to see before you die, put Screaming Females on it; do it now.

In summary, forget everything i said about my stupid life. What's important is that everyone find a band that does this to you, on an emotional level, and tap into that well as often as you possibly fucking can. Music is important, and if we are going to have underground and local scenes, we need to support them, and support them hard.

Elly Jackson's Teeth

[originally posted on tumblr]

I'm so tired. But for some reason, i'm feeling the need to fire off a quick blog post about Elly Jackson's teeth before i go to bed.

Who?, you may find yourself asking. I'm glad you asked.

Elly Jackson is the vocal end of British synthpop band La Roux. I know...for a high school metalhead, turned 20something punk, i sure do listen to a lot of dance pop. Sooner or later i'll actually post my dissertation on how t.A.T.u.'s discography are concept albums that function as a logical trilogy. I've been thinking about it for months. But anyway, back to La Roux.

I hate when i go to the gym and forget my iPod. I don't know what gyms are like in your area, but the gigantic health club i go to here in Madison plays utter shit music over their soundsystem constantly. I mean Nickelback. I mean Kelly Clarkson. And i most certainly mean Katy Perry. You are almost guaranteed to hear both Firework and Teenage Dream every hour at my gym. I'm fairly certain that they've got about forty songs that they play on a constant loop, and it's not even the current Top 40. Maybe i should be thankful for that.

But anyway, recently they've added the song Bulletproof to their repertoire. I found it to be a breath of fresh air, something enjoyable for a change. But since i had only ever heard it at the gym, i didn't know who or what it was, and this was very disappointing to me. So in the end, i have to say, thank god for Spotify.

This blog is veering wildly off topic, but i think i'm ok with that. I probably don't have as much to say about Elly Jackson's teeth, specifically, as i had previously thought.

Spotify, from its inception, seemed a little scary to me. It's like Grooveshark, but it tells everybody on Facebook what you're listening to all the time. Which is how i busted my buddy Dan listening to Michael Jackson. And Josh listening to Hanson. I didn't make either of those situations up. I don't want people seeing what i'm listening to all the time. I'm friends with members of numerous punk bands on Facebook. If they knew how much Lady Gaga i really listen to, things would get weird. Plus, Spotify plays ads after every few songs, something that Grooveshark never did. On another tangent, Grooveshark recently started doing something almost more annoying. But i'm not witing about that right now.

I hadn't been to the gym in a while and i kept trying to think of what that song i liked was, and couldn't come up with it. I got back to the gym last night, hoping to hear that song, so that i could pick out some lyrics and Google them when i got home, but it wasn't played during my entire workout. I'd like to look at things in the "sooner or later it'll play during my workout" light, but i'd really rather not torture myself with that much Katy Perry waiting around for it.

Luckily, this morning, i saw on the FB that my friend Jeri had recently listened to a song called Bulletproof. The name, La Roux, seemed unlikely, but a quick YouTube search and, lo!


God damn, how have i typed so many words without coming to a point? I knew those Long Islands at Applebee's were a mistake.

Anyway, despite the fact that this video looks more 80s than the 80s did, and the fact that Elly Jackson looks 15 (actually 24, if Wikipedia is to be believed), and the fact that she seems largely disinterested (and simultaneously angry) while doing her singing there, this video made me very happy in ways i'm not sure i understand. I viewed a few more La Roux videos before Bob walked in on me, startling my dogs and destroying my street cred, but her expression seems about the same in all of them. But what really struck me is her teeth, and how prominent they are in the video.

I love that they're completely uneven. I'm frankly sick of our American packaged pop stars being plastic Barbie dolls with faker facial expressions (see: Katy Perry) and their perfect goddamn teeth. Elly Jackson's teeth have personality. Maybe it's just because she's British, but i think that La Roux's success in America really goes to show how unnecessary the extensive oral cosmetic surgery done on our pop stars is. It makes them homogenous, disingenuous, and boring to look at. Frankly.

Not to mention unrealistic. Maybe i just really like Elly Jackson's teeth because her bottom teeth are just like my top teeth. I've never felt a need to correct them, either; i had an orthodontist appointment about it once when i thought they were actually damaging my inner lip, but that's it. My only consideration for braces was purely function over form.

But here's the weird thing, and the reason i felt inclined to write out a whole blog about this. I felt it was important to say something supportive of Elly Jackson's teeth, even though i know she'll never read it and it will in no way influence anyone anywhere. So, with those criteria, i was going to make a Facebook post that said, simply, "I love Elly Jackson's teeth," but i thought it would sound sarcastic. Anything i could add to that (that would also be appropriate for a Facebook status) would only compound the problem: "I love Elly Jackson's teeth because they're so crooked." "I love Elly Jackson's teeth because they're imperfect." Even "I love Elly Jackson's teeth because they have character" felt like it could be misconstrued as an insult. I feel pretty badly about this. I've been raised into a world where making fun of someone's appearance is considered acceptable and is expected. And, of course, when you make fun of someone, you can expect a backlash, if not from that person, from either their supporters or people who have a similar appearance. I was worried that my posting "I love Elly Jackson's teeth" may cause offense to a close friend with bad teeth (i have no specific close friend with bad teeth in mind; i didn't think of anyone specific, i simply considered the scenario. So if you thought that that sentence was offensive because i was saying you have bad teeth, then...wait, wait a minute. Actually, if you're reading that much into it, go fuck yourself).

The point is, none of this should even have crossed my mind in the first place. It's weird and ridiculous and i shouldn't even be thinking about these things. Especially this late at night and after all the drinking.

Anyway, i love Elly Jackson's teeth. For real.