The Rock Junkie

Woman of a certain age

2011-01-03T22:35:00.001-08:00

My mom loves the show Men of a Certain Age. I say love because she says love like she says love for all the 50-something shows taking up 110 hours on her DVR at this moment. Hence, it is really of no consequence that my mother "loves" this show and that is not what this post is about. It's not about me loving it either. I think it's OK.

This post is about the gorgeous woman to the left. Actually, it is more about the character she plays. Melissa, portrayed by Lisa Gay Hamilton (awesome that there is another actress besides Marcia Gay Harden with the middle name of Gay), is a stay-at-home mom of two and wife to a car salesman. Aside from her cuteness and her familiar face (I figured it out, she used to be on The Practice, which I MISS), I never really paid too much attention to the character, which is actually what was intended from what I've read of Hamilton's interviews. However, the last episode I saw brought her careening to the forefront, for me personally at least.

After ten years as a stay-at-home mom, Melissa is re-entering the workforce, a concept itself which deserves to be examined more in mainstream television. It's also a concept I often think of as a newlywed who is looking down the barrel of motherhood in the distant yet not-so-distant future. What really made me feel like the producers at TNT were spying my dreams/nightmares was that Melissa was a writer, one who felt she should just tell potential employers that she was in jail for the last decade since it would sound sexier than "just being a mom."

As Melissa reflected in disbelief that she spent six hours on Craig's List only to land a single interview for a vegetarian magazine, and was even EXCITED about it, it was like I was reliving the last two years of my life as a post-grad while getting a fast-forward view of my life in 13, 14, 15 years.

What I loved most about this episode was not the foray into the life of a writer/mom itself, but the way it made me feel, which was no longer scared. It made me understand that the struggle you go through to make your name after college can feel the most desperate and miserable because you have nothing yet to show for your life up to that point besides a piece of paper, which promised you a job that you can't find. But Melissa, she had two kids, a big house, a husband with a nice ass. The struggle the second time around will be just as hard, if not harder. Yet I don't think it will come as close to breaking me as the first time around did.

Anyway, I love this show now. But I'm still saying love like my mom says love. My DVR is full, too.

In other extremely late news: Stevie Ryan

2010-03-09T21:49:00.000-08:00

If I'm not the last person in the Stevie-Ryan-knowing-world to get this, I deserve a pat on the back and a cup of red velvet frozen yogurt.

It's one of those commercials you hear a thousand times but don't actually watch until the millionth time it sneaks its way past your DVR fast forwarding. Cheetos aired this commercial during the Superbowl but it wasn't until this moment that I got a look at those choppers of her's (hauntingly straight and slightly over-sized) and knew it was Sceney Sceneable herself.

If you haven't met Sceney or her mother played by none other than Chris Crocker of Leave Brittany Alone fame, do yourself a favor. It is like looking up at the face of God and him saying back to you, "You are my most wondrous creation." And junk.

Chadwell gets some sun.

2009-11-06T11:43:00.000-08:00

Why it took me all of ten seconds to realize that it was, in fact, Rock of Love's Heather Chadwell who guested as a prostitute on this week's It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia is beyond me. She was sporting her usual garb, for one. Has she had work done? I remember her MONDO makeover from season one to season two of ROL as a vast improvement.

Chadwell did not have a speaking role, which I feel a little jipped on. As one of the most colorful skanks on ROL, the Heather we all know and love would have been right at home with Sunny's pack of scoundrels. Heather, you look good and we miss you. Now that Megan Wants a Millionaire is canceled, get your ass back to VH1 and slap a bitch while you're at it.

Dressed in the dark, and you're too lame. You give walking shorts a bad name.

2009-11-03T21:21:00.000-08:00

So annoyed that I can't find a picture of this and if anyone can, help a girl out. WTF was Heidi wearing for the runway show on this last episode of Project Runway?

Now, Heidi's personal fashion for me has always been hit or...meh. Never really a miss anywhere in there, for sure. Yet last night, Klum thought, just for schitzengiggles, that it would be awesome to dress in a tuxedo jacket, a hot pink and white almost Hawaiian print blouse and, to top it off, silver walking shorts.

Let's dissect. For one, I have been coveting a women's tuxedo jacket for a few months now, so props. It's an edgy take on a men's wear classic. Talk about edgy, a metallic walking short is taking an age-appropriate, conservative piece and giving it a little youth. Not a bad in it of itself. However, I have never been a Roxy girl and I think unless you really are a surfer, you have no business dressing like one. Surfer chic was so ten years ago anyway. So really the only thing I despise about the entire outfit was the top but my god have I never seen a more hideous combination.

Oh oh and WHAT was the deal with that little remark about Althea's oversize coat "drawing inspiration" from Irina's giant cowl? A big coat is not exactly a completely original construction anyway. Besides, one was a COAT, the other as a SWEATER. A backless sweater at that! Heidi, you're just mixing it up on purpose, aren't you?

Now that's just wrong.

2009-10-10T21:57:00.000-07:00

Between Two Ferns with Zach Galifianakis from Between Two Ferns

Nerdgasm.

2009-09-17T23:21:00.001-07:00

I'm sorry but there still hasn't been a man to come along since Glenn Danzig in his heyday who has been hotter. FACT.

Stacy London Quote of the Week

2009-09-14T22:31:00.000-07:00

*holding a hideous embroidered tunic* "I don't know who you think you are but Janis Joplin is dead!"

And we miss you already Swayze. :(

Chung channels Farley.

2009-09-10T12:09:00.000-07:00

In my first time catching It's On With Alexa Chung, and mind you by accident after wrapping up an episode of True Life, I find myself slightly conflicted. I'll admit, with the promos for the show featuring a model-hot Brit talking music and celebs on what used to be the coolest network ever, I may have had a shred of hope that MTV was becoming hip again and not just the sad parody of hip it has been since...oh, I don't know, '94? '95?

Chung's banter is charmingly English, almost like that of Russle Brand ("Oh Oi'm Aldous Snooow. Booshit, booshit, booshit.) By the way, is he hosting the VMAs? Didn't he just host the MTV Movie Awards? Good god, people. Are we trying to get sick of him like Billie Crystal with the Oscars or what? Back to Chung. She's almost cool. She's almost even qualified to be a talk show host but the fact that one thing and one thing only came to mind while she semi-painfully interviewed Mary J. Blige is haunting me: The Chris Farley Show.

In the classic episode of SNL where Farley interviews Paul McCartney, you find the rumbly, tumbly host rambling about song lyrics and not really asking questions but rather, "Remember Beatlemania...?" Paul says, "Yeah." Farley says, "That was awesome." Chung...*sigh*...actually asked Blige what the 411 was. She also asked her if there was "no more drama." Blige actually laughed a little and flashed that look in her eyes as if to say, "This bitch is trippin'." Mary, I agree. That bitch was trippin'.

Extract. What a collection of assholes.

2009-09-06T19:24:00.000-07:00

Jason Bateman is getting work rather continuously and we are all relieved about that. Since the tragic demise of Arrested Development, the guy has gone on to parts in some of my favorite movies, most notably Juno. So scoring the lead role in Mike Judge's Extract seems pretty choice. Why not jump on another version of Office Space, only this time set in a food flavoring factory? And also try saying that three times fast while you're at it.

All right, so Extract is a little bit more than a cynical retrospective on the workplace. In fact, it is a cynical retrospective on spouses, nosey neighbors, irresponsible friends and criminal drifters. Basically, those with anger management issues should avoid this movie for its characters are quite possibly the most frustrating and infuriating people in recent cinema history. And this includes Debbie Reynolds in Mother, people. Seriously.

However, laughs flow freely in this almost classic stoner comedy, driven mainly by Ben Affleck as the "wild card" friend you always invite along with you to Vegas and regret doing so after your first night in jail. Extract is definitely worth seeing...perhaps followed by yoga.

Talk about a piece of knowledge.

2009-09-05T20:51:00.000-07:00

When I was younger, I kept a running list of things I had learned in life that I deemed to be important. Sure, we all do in some way. However, these things were not obvious things like "It is standard procedure to wipe after a poop," or "It is best to look over one's shoulder before engaging in a racist joke, no matter how light-hearted." And they weren't profound things either like the value of honesty and accountability. Mainly they were tidbits of knowledge on people I admired and/or people I knew personally. For example, one of my favorites was that my friend Stevie dated a girl who attended clown college.

We all learn cool shit every day, hopefully. And today was no exception when, while watching VH1, I heard of the most kick-ass interview in the history of all rock journalism, maybe even journalism as a vast and endless whole.

In the Spring of '69, the Beatles were months away from an official statement by Paul McCartney announcing their disbanding. At that time, John Lennon found refuge in Canada after the U.S. refused to let him return due to his fervent protesting of the Vietnam War. In Canada, newly married Lennon and Yoko Ono arranged their Montreal Bed-In to advocate for peace.

For then 14-year-old die-hard, Jerry Levitan, it was a chance of a lifetime to shamefully stalk the famous Beatle by knocking on every door of the Queen Elizabeth Hotel until Lennon was found. Not only did the fucker find him, his request for a follow-up interview that he could take back to his high school was granted with enthusiasm.

Levitan's short interview tape was adapted into an animated short and nominated for an Oscar last year. In the recording, Lennon whimsically rambles like any optimistic hippie of the era yet pearls of universal truth are abundant, particularly the deeming of school kids who don't like The Beatles as, "kind of square."

Sean Patrick, what happened to you?

2009-09-03T17:05:00.000-07:00

My immense joy at hearing there was actually going to be a sequel to Troy Duffy's The Boondock Saints was immediately met with the shock of my life. While watching the trailer, the automatic check list is already ticking away the people that are crucial, nay, mandatory for this thing to float. Billy Connolly. Check. Norman Reedus. Check. Willem Dafoe? All right, he's not in but he's replaced by hottie Julie Benz, ok fine. Sean Patrick Flanery? Oh great, they replaced one of the fracking brothers. Just lovely! How in the hell...rant rant rantiness ensues before I finally realize that the unfamiliar face I see before me in SPF's place is actually the man himself.

What. The. Hell?

What happened? I know it's been ten years and, looking back, I think Boondock Saints may have actually been the last time I saw him but come on! The man is barely recognizable. The most puzzling thing is that he looks fine. It's one thing if ten years takes a toll on you but in Flanery's case, that's not just it. He just looks completely different. It's as if I am witnessing a body snatching and am desperate for people to agree with me lest I go insane and start wearing a foil hat to keep the aliens from reading my thoughts. Help me out here!

Sunday at Outside Lands...minus the sun

2009-09-02T22:34:00.000-07:00

Festivals. What are they if not high priced hassles with no parking, ten dollar beers and port-o-potties you always convince yourself you are never going to use again but always end up caving when it’s time to break that seal? God, I hate festivals. But Outside Lands, you sure are the lesser of these money-sucking evils. And your Sunday lineup was the perfect cap to a three-day musical binge.

Sunday’s foggy weather rivaled the ashy skies of Silent Hill; it was that damn gloomy. So what better a setting for Nashville’s The Dead Weather to make their Bay Area debut? Now that’s what we’re talking about when we utter the term “super group.” Never mind The Raconteurs. This is the band Jack White should have started a long time ago and now has with The Kills’ Alison Mosshart, Dean Fertita of Queens of the Stone Age and fellow Raconteur Jack Lawrence. If you didn’t know that Mosshart is this generation’s take on Joan Jett, and how could you by listening to those crisp, poppy Kills beats, you do now. White’s down and dirty blues roots transform this Londoner who normally walks on the mild side into a Joplin-like goddess. Filthy and sneering, The Dead Weather drips with badassery and is truly the band to know this year.

And if festivals are good for anything else, it is their ability to showcase well-deserving indie bands such as Ohio’s Heartless Bastards who have gained solid momentum this year and are on the verge of exploding their meaty folk into the mainstream underbelly. Any fans of The Decemberists will gladly gobble this act up. Singer Erika Wennerstrom brings back classic female crooning with a vengeance. Think the scene in Elf where Zooey Deschanel sings Christmas songs in the shower. Wennerstrom evokes the same warmth and charm yet holds her own as a strong rock woman.

Henry Rollins may have said it the best. “…Fucking Ween.” Oh, Ween. What are you if not the answer for those who hate The Dead but still feel the need to fill the stony, college rock void in their musical repertoire? What are you if not brilliant with age and intoxication level? You are stupid music for smart people. You are the godfathers of twisted on a sweetly retarded level, like Forest Gump. And you’re still kicking. Aaron Freeman can still sing the hell out of “Take Me Away” while Mickey Melchiondo can still shred out a monster version of “Johnny on the Spot.” Ween, as that drunken college co-ed kept screaming to the back of our heads despite numerous dirty looks, we love you.

It is almost impossible to remind yourself while watching M.I.A. that she is someone’s mother. One badass mother, mind you. Who else could rightfully and tastefully pay homage to ailing Beastie Boy Adam Yauch with a sick sampling of “Sabotage?” And all while wearing oversized, red, vinyl cap sleeves that somehow didn’t look stupid at all? M.I.A. was the perfect party topper complete with Hammer-era dancers and blindingly brightly colored stagewear. The Beastie Boys would have been met with a worthy opener had they been able to attend. But who better to take their place than the self-proclaimed greatest band in the world?

“I’m fucking forty,” confessed Tenacious D’s Jack Black. “But I’m fit. I’ve been doing yoga. I’ve been taking flax seed oil.” Black proceeded to let a body double show how he can still do “flip flaps” across the stage. Fight ensues with Black and Kyle Gass, leading to “Dude (I Totally Miss You),” yada, yada, yada. I hate to say that you’ve kind of seen them all after witnessing your first D show. Not to say that this matters at all, whatsoever. If you can watch The Masterworks over and over again, you can see The D just as often.

Possible Side Effects and Bjork

2009-08-19T22:37:00.000-07:00

I am forced to read now. I haven't read a real novel since I got stuck in the quicksand that is Song of Susanna on my way to finishing The Dark Tower. That was a good three years ago. But now I have to read everyday all because of the way lunches seem to work in the Curve office. Everyone sits at their desks to eat for maybe 15 minutes, while doing work, then immediately getting back to the work they never left in the first place. And while they insist that I take long lunches, I can't do so at my desk since it raises the question of whether or not I am actually working and am able to answer phones and not be on Facebook.

Instead, I am exiled to the lobby where there is nothing to do but read. Lately, it has been Augusten Burroughs' Possible Side Effects, a collection of essays with pithy inner monologue and jam-packed gayness. I love it. He writes like I used to. About NOTHING. He is what the famous Seinfeld pitch was all about. A book about nothing.

Oh and the Bjork thing. My Zune now has seven whole gigs of music on it, a drop in the bucket from the possible 30 gigs I could cram into it. I always listen on random yet almost everyday, Pagan Poetry haunts me. And at times where I at first feel good. Oh look at that sunshine. And in SF of all places. I love him. I love him. Sweet. I remembered to take my parking pass off my windshield. No mocking stub fluttering today. He makes me want to hurt myself. And goddamnit, every time I hear the song I go from zero to blubbering in 10 seconds flat. Normally, I desensitize to songs after a while but this one has some strange immunity.

Byrne-ing Down the Greek

2009-06-28T21:56:00.000-07:00

Written for East Bay Express, 7/1/09

The convergence of ages is quite often seen at live shows when the performer has enjoyed a lengthy career. Often it is awkward. Try lighting a joint at a Pearl Jam concert only to notice you are in the presence of many young children who have accompanied their middle-aged, formerly grunge parents. David Byrne’s show at Berkeley’s Greek Theatre on Friday, June 26 was no exception. The singer/songwriter treated the age-diverse crowd to mostly Talking Heads favorites as well as the best of his latest album with Brian Eno, Everything That Happens Will Happen Today.

Byrne’s music isn’t easy to describe. While the man himself is almost too bizarre to go on living, his poetic recitation of lyrics and exaggerated pitch is really the only oddball element to his songs. The most akin musician that comes to mind is post-Genesis Peter Gabriel, minus five to ten pounds of pomp and circumstance. Byrne’s performance at the Greek certainly followed suit. While he needed neither lasers nor smoke machines to transform the stage, he let subtle elements presented point of view without jamming it down your throat. A simple act of dressing himself and accompaniment all in white was a nice touch.

No one should be surprised by the fact that Byrne now employs a trio of contemporary backup dancers. Granted, the 57-year-old solo artist looks like he’s in great shape but I’ll bet his days of body noodling and forearm chopping are numbered. Why not hire a small army to do thy kinesthetic bidding? In all, it was a great choice. Byrne was still very involved with the physical element of the show, even with the jogging-in-place routine for “Life During Wartime.” If anyone ever saw Stop Making Sense, you know what I’m talking about and probably said to yourself, “Bummer. I will never see anything like this live.” Wrong. Byrne’s show was absolutely thrilling and refreshingly classic. At several points, it seemed the audience had forgotten what age they were, what year it was, and how white Byrne’s hair has gotten. They sang the words, “Same as it ever was” and became the lyric itself. Byrne’s ability to transcend niche and era is the stuff of truly great music.

— Briana Hernandez

Photo credit: Mark Sherman

First show fizzles, Robson sizzles--again.

2009-06-12T11:18:00.000-07:00

It took a while, but I am now fully sucked in despite not really giving a hoot about dance and cringing more at Mary Murphey's dead eyes and squawking voice than I have at any of Tyra's antics on ANTM (even Goddess of Fierce). So You Think You Can Dance has officially reeled me in and now monopolizes my Wednesday nights, this last being the first episode with the top 20 finalists.

Now, I know I mentioned that I don't really care about dance and that's true. However, it makes people like me some of the best viewers for this show. If we're moved, you know it's brilliant. That said, this first show had plenty of glitz, little guile.

One exception, as always, was modern dance choreographer Wade Robson's routine. Seriously, the guy swaggers in, says "G'day" and steals the show every single time. This episode, it was the adorable flirtation of crash test dummies that stole everyone's hearts. Yeah, I guess you had to be there.

-Briana Hernandez

I'm there.

2009-06-09T14:51:00.001-07:00

Granted, I have never been able to sit through 2001: A Space Odyssey. Fine, I never really tried that hard to in the first place. But I've always known I must and now the motivation to do so has tripled upon getting wind of Duncan Jones' Moon.

Trailer.

An astronaut (Sam Rockwell) serving a three-year mining contract on the moon is two weeks away from returning home to his wife and child. Just when he starts thinking, *fists atop hips* "Ha. Three years alone on the moon with one hand tied around my back--I rule," of course, weirdness starts to go down while the creepily calm voice of his automated hub (just guess...Kevin Spacey) suggests he is loosing his shit.

Come to think of it, I may not have to sit through 2001 after all as typing the synopsis to Moon all the more reminds me of 1998's Sphere, the ultimate depiction of mind power and coping with the unknown. Either way, I hope Moon takes us to similar places. Besides, I am now terrified of the sea, mars and space in general because of wicked awesome movies so why not throw the moon into the mix?

-Briana Hernandez

Doosey of Love

2009-05-13T15:10:00.000-07:00

FINALLY the newest VH1 "of love" show has sprung, putting one of my favorite silicone sweethearts from Bret Michael's Rock of Love center stage. While Daisy (season two) wasn't nearly as entertainingly cringe-worthy as season one's Lacy, her ditsy moments ("My life is not black and white--it's color!") may have been the highlight to the blandest of the three cycles.

While Daisy of Love just ain't no I Love New York, the gentlemen callers may just be worth the DVR space. From grabby Toolbox to whiny Cable Guy (really, she named him Cable Guy...as a complement...because cable guys are sexy), they really are the meat, no pun, of the show. Don't count on much wow from our bumbling host. I kind of don't see why VH1 thought she was strong enough to fly solo. "My life is not black and white--it's color!" I see.

But what, what, WHAT is 12-Pack doing back in the mix??? The I Love New York season one contestant may be a perfect fit for this show, but I'm guessing Miss Daisy didn't watch New York--or at least the part where muscle man confessed he's an actor and had no real interest in dating host Tiffany Pollard if awarded the final chain. Maybe she just thinks she's better than New York. Hopefully she never forms the balls to say that to her face. Come on, if Heather kicked your ass, New York will cut you. Ask Pumpkin.

-Briana Hernandez

The horrors that can happen in an mmmbop.

2009-05-04T19:48:00.000-07:00

Super groups. I will never again be excited by that phrase. FromVH1's exploits of putting Ted Nugent and Sebastian Bach on the same stage to everyone getting so extremely hot over Jack White's power foursome composed of himself and...three guys no one gives a crap about, I'm pretty much unaffected by news of high-profile collaborations. That is until I got whiff of Tinted Windows: Fountains of Wayne's Adam Schlesinger, former Pumpkin James Iha, Cheap Tricks' Bun E. Carlos and a man I wanted to marry when I was 12, Taylor Hanson, formerly of brotherly trio Hanson.

How the hell did this happen? This "Rock After Dark" promo just makes it all the more surreal. The bad camera shots, creepy host and Miami Vice wardrobe just makes me sit in waiting for the NBC logo to appear at the bottom right corner of the screen just before Iha screams "Live from New York..."

But it just won't happen and I am left again alone with my deepened disappointment of the words "super group."

-Briana Hernandez

Jamie Stewart gets weird(er)

2009-05-04T19:04:00.000-07:00

7x7, published 4/23/09

There is a scene I love in the movie “Baby Mama” where Steve Martin, as a pony-tailed vegan guru, rewards Tina Fey for a job well done with “five minutes of uninterrupted eye contact.” It’s just as hilarious and uncomfortable as it sounds, hence it was the first thing to come to mind while seeing Jamie Stewart sans Xiu Xiu at Café Du Nord last Friday.

(Read more)

Horrorfest late, Babin goes Hollywood

2008-10-20T18:27:00.000-07:00

What?! First of all, Horrorfest is late this year. Actually, it's not even this year at all. It's in January of 09. Very lame but I guess you can't make it rain and you can't make the movie world abundant with unreleasable horror movies.

However, the first five flicks have been selected. While perusing the synopsis of each, I came across one with Rumer Willis in what appears to be a pretty standard teen scream. However, what is not so standard is what I found in the movie stills when lo and behold I find a picture of a scared-out-of-her-wits Amanda Babin, America's Next Top Model's twin contestant from cycle seven. Very interesting.

While it does make me a little more inclined to watch this movie (Phedon Papamichael's From Within), it simultaneously brings back a barrage of movies falling into the history of models turned actors. While there have been pleasant additions to the silver screen (Elizabeth Hurley, Austin Powers), there have been far more blunders (Elle Macpherson, Batman and Robin, Cindy Crawford, Fair Game).

Although, these were SUPERmodels turned thespian. Babin was an athlete before ANTM and, while moderately successful on the show, did not win the competition. Perhaps the bigger your modeling contract, the lower your theatrical repertoire. Anyway, good for her. Maybe we can even hold out hope in the movie not being lame even for Horrorfest standards? Maybe?

-Briana Hernandez

"HELLA BIGGER!" published January 2007, Zero Magazine

2007-01-31T22:26:00.000-08:00

For a band, a drastic change can prove to be either a catapult or a death sentence. From Dylan going electric to Hagar’s induction into Van Halen, we’ve witnessed the results of reinvention. One more that we can put in the column of good decisions is the new face of Hella. What was once a renowned power-duo, made up of Zach Hill (drums) and Spencer Seim (guitar), has successfully transformed into a full line-up with the recruitment of Carson McWhirter (bass), Josh Hill (guitar), and Aaron Ross (vocals).

Hella’s latest album, There’s No 666 In Outer Space, and first release for Mike Patton’s Ipecac Recordings is a refined version of the band’s special brand of chaos. The incorporation of the traditional band model makes Hella all the more accessible which is large in part due to new members. One of which is bassist Carson McWhirter.

“A few of the songs that are on the newest record, we had kind of started to write five years ago…all of us had done projects together a lot over the years,” says McWhirter. “We’ve all wanted to get together and do this band but for different scheduling reasons…stuff didn’t quite work out until now.”

Drummer Zach Hill is nothing but excited and optimistic of Hella’s new direction. “It’s a full spectrum of what we’ve always wanted to achieve,” says Hill. “If you took the primitive state of our sound as two people…it has naturally morphed into how we originally envisioned our band in the first place.”

Yet, as a duo, Hella received a solid buzz about their sound, perhaps at times because they were a duo that produced that amount of sound. Why fix what wasn’t broken? “We always planned on having a full group and it was kind of a happy accident that people liked what we did as two people but we always, in the back of our heads, toyed with the idea of adding people,” says Hill. Possibly one of the more dramatic changes to the band is the inclusion of a solid vocalist. Nevada City’s Aaron Ross, a long-time friend of Hill’s, has taken this roll.

“We were always really curious as to what he would sound like if he were put into the same environment as us, so we gave it a shot,” says Hill. “There’s just another color, now, in that spectrum. I think he adds a heaviness to it, maybe a level of fantasy to things which I personally am really into.”

Hill gushes further. “He just sings straight up. Like old school style. It’s just how he naturally sings. It’s not some screaming shit or emo shit. Nowadays [you hear] some contrived style of singing. [With him] there are no frills, no effects.”

As for the other new members, McWhirter also plays bass in The Advantage, an NES videogame score, cover band, with Seim. When asked what he had to offer to Hella in terms of sound as a new member, McWhirter humbly says, “I try not to plan it. I don’t have a direction in mind before we start writing. It usually just comes from us interacting with each other…I add a lot of low-end,” he laughs. Josh Hill, who is Zach Hill’s cousin, was a member of Legs on Earth with Zach and Seim.

According to Zach, Josh and Seim had really grown as guitarists together as high school kids. When thinking of whom to add for second guitarist to Hella, Zach says, “[Josh] was an obvious choice” sans the slightest hint of nepotism.

Hella primarily originated from Sacremento. McWhirter muses on the advantages of being a Sacramento musician. “[Living there] gives us the time to focus on music,” he laughs. “Sacramento is an easy place to live. It doesn’t take much to get by here. It doesn’t have a really vast cultural influence here but…if you just want to get down to it and play music without much interaction, Sacramento is good for that.” Zach adds, “It’s a very honest city. People here are not easily impressed, whatsoever.”

Above anything else, Hella is recognized for their ability to carve themselves a niche in the genre. A band like this seemingly has something to say to today’s musical climate. What Hella has to say definitely comes from the desire to grow into a full-blown band. “I hate to say that the current state of music is kind of desperate,” says McWhirter. “It’s always like one guy’s project [where he] hires all these other musicians. We wanted to be a full, real rock band where everyone is a contributor, a real band instead of just some project. We wanted something solid. We want this band to progress and change together.”

Zach, on the other hand, is apprehensive to define the band. “How we got [to this point] feels like it has something to do with how we avoid answering that question,” he says. “Our niche is no niche. Our statement is no statement. We are constantly changing and we have no rules. Literally.”

The renovation of Hella coincides with a label change to Ipecac Recordings. The band signed before going on tour to promote their previous release “Church Gone Wild/Chirpin’ Hard. A small, experimental label would seem like a perfect home for this band. Zach agrees. “It seemed like the time was right to try something new, so we did,” says Zach. [The people at Ipecac] are pretty rad and understanding people.” When asked if the label was supportive of expanding their line-up, Zach says, “anything we think is the right idea for our band, they’re going to think it’s the right idea, too. And now they’re really happy that we made that choice.”
In terms of future direction, the guys seem unburdened by planning it. “I’d like to just keep it open,” says McWhirter. “When we get together, usually something different happens every time. That’s why I like playing with these guys. We kind of shock and challenge each other.”

Zach only has one word to keep on this matter. “I promise the next [album] will be just as different in a good way, just like this one is.”

Daily Affirmation

2007-01-31T22:11:00.000-08:00

I can't remember the last time I got really excited about a new band who I knew nothing about so I'm sure it has been a while. Check out Cold War Kids. Fucking brilliant and uncharacteristically from L.A.

By the way guys, Captain Ahab is pretty cool but there is no way I could listen to this shite everyday. Purely novelty. Which I'm not knocking, but still.

For the past few weeks, I have really lost the zeal for writing rock reviews. This also coincides with my recent embark into the comic universe. I was re-thinking my role as a critic. Maybe my love affair with rock music was starting to cool while I discovered other genres of entertainment and art. Then I looked at how many fucking cds are in my trash right now. About ten. I haven't kept a single one that I have gotten from the mags in quite a while. So I sighed a relief in knowing that it isn't my love for rock that is dying. It's my hatred for bland, shitty music that is killing my will to discover new sounds. Kinda sucks. It really, really depresses me how much music there is out there and how much I despise most of it and how everyone who creates it justs thinks it is so precious. I feel terrible. It's like telling someone they have an ugly baby. And how many times can I make the same diagnosis? "You're missing something. Find an edge." So easy to say yet I don't even know what that means. It's beyond words. It is like trying to explain why my heart pumps faster when I listen to metal. I don't know why it happens. All I know is that I don't go to the gym without a Meshuggah play list.

THE BRIGGS - BACK TO HIGHER GROUND published October 25, 2006, The Owl Mag

2006-10-25T00:50:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you hear a record and think how perfect it would be as a high school movie soundtrack. This is really one of those albums. The brand of punk rock that The Briggs deliver with Back to Higher Ground is, among other things, peppy. It's clean and simple: all neutral qualities depending on your taste. On the upside is Joey LaRocca's vocals successfully managing to sound mature, not too guttural and aged like so many past-prime punk singers.

Basically, a band like this will remind you of other bands like Rancid and then... make you want to go listen to them again. The sound is appetizing yet in the end unsatisfying, lacking the added power boost that has made other punk bands transcend from genre typical to stylistic. From the surface it appears that everything is there: right tone, right singer, even the classic group-sung choruses and power cords. But something is missing, and if this band finds it they could go far.

THE DECEMBERISTS @ THE WARFIELD October 19, 2006 published in The Owl Mag and Filter Tour Zine

2006-10-22T14:46:00.000-07:00

There is something about the people who go to shows at The Warfield that never changes. They are so unchanging, in fact, that you may never be able to tell what band is about to go on by surveying the scene. By the looks of this crowd, it could have been any other run-of-the-mill rock show and not the folk fest that was Lavender Diamond and The Decemberists.

Lavender was the opener for the night. Trying her best to friendly up the crowd, singer Rebecca Stark, in her pastel prom dress, cooed to the attendees in between songs like she ate half a blue dolphin. When she wasn't reminding audience members how beautiful they were and that "we are all Lavender Diamond," her mildly operatic voice just itched to remind you of a sunnier Paula Cole who finally found out where all the cowboys went. This band is just too fuzzy-wuzzy to be indoors. They belonged at Ren Fair, at a protest, anything but a dark club in the filthier part of San Francisco.

The Decemberists were well met with the audience, which is ironic since the opening song was probably their worst. This is a band whose live performance goes from a slow burn to a steady, crackling fire. At their best moments, for example, during "We Both Go Down Together," The Decemberists painted themselves as the archetype of Folk 2006. The sound was rustic, rich and earthy but atypically dark at points. Singer Colin Meloy was absolutely charming in both performance and interaction. His storyteller vocals were reminiscent of early Beatle-era John Lennon and his banter evocative of Eddie Izzard, telling us about how he knows where to get crack in the city in case we would all like some. This is definitely a band worth watching this year.

CHORDS ARE DEAD - THE SIREN EP published October 11, 2006, The Owl Mag

2006-10-22T14:43:00.000-07:00

Not to sound like a total philistine, but I usually turn my nose at any band that comes out of Berkeley. It's really hard to take a mush of bands as seriously as they take themselves when they all sound the fucking same. That said, Chords Are Dead are a refreshing shock. The sound is still oh-so-Berkeley, don't worry. But along with that is a poppy energy made respectable with the right amount of grit.

One thing is for sure: the androgynous voice of Amelia Terry is the answer to the prayers of any retired riot grrrl who hasn't been moved by a female vocalist since Kathleen Hanna. However, Chords Are Dead are more the image of Sleater-Kinney than Bikini Kill with their more gentle approach. This is the kind of band I loved as a kid: simple and sleek with just enough edge to make an impression.

COBALT PARTY REVOLUTION - OK CONSUMER published September 26, 2006, The Owl Mag

2006-10-22T14:41:00.000-07:00

Trust me. I'm all for the 90's nostalgia and its quotient of cheesiness. Yet there are times where OK Consumer dangerously teeters on the line between playful cheese and embarrassing cheese. There are moments when the upbeat tones, scratching and rapping with a vocal hook makes you think back to old school skateboards, Levi 501's and Airwalks. Then there are others that bring visions of Coca-Cola commercials, The Real World (New York, of course), and dare I say it, biker shorts.

Then there is always the inescapable cheese you encounter when you hear white boys rapping. It just happens. There have been too many bad examples of the white rapper to leave the rest of them untainted. When all these obstacles are overcome or forgotten, OK Consumer can almost be cute in its quirkiness.

SHOTGUN MONDAY - READ, COMPARE, ADJUST published September 20, 2006, The Owl Mag

2006-10-22T14:38:00.000-07:00

If first impressions are key, then Read, Compare, Adjust blows the house down. People may agree that one of the most missed bands of the early '00s is At The Drive In and the first song of this album is the spitting image of Vaya, one of ATDI's best albums.

From there is a relief of variances because, hey, there is a difference between utilizing influence and ripping off style. Further listen into the album is like slipping deeper into emo quicksand, complete with '80s synth. Topping off Read, Compare, Adjust is the bizzaro voice of Jon Kelson, who at times will convince you that he is the adopted son of Cedric Bixler and Jello Biafra. That might sound pretty annoying, but somehow it works. The varieties of textures in this album really give the band depth which is a rare commodity in this genre. Shotgun Monday is the needed emo element in any eclectic musical catalog.

THE HEADS - UNDER THE STRESS OF A HEADLONG DIVE published September 20, 2006, The Owl Mag

2006-09-27T01:27:00.000-07:00

You might not know what The Heads look like since the only band photo in this album's liner notes is from pretty far off into the distance. However, from first listen, you may immediately think back to that stoner band from the movie PCU. This is the kind of music those guys should have played to really stick it to the man: classic, redundant grunge shaken up with spacey distortion and feedback up the wazoo.

The Heads take a punk energy and layer it with psychedelic essence. Songs are drawn out with eerie interludes that only build atmosphere rather than take away from the actual music. Under The Stress of a Headlong Dive is a full bodied experience in the league of other such albums like Floyd's Darkside and Mars Volta's Francis the Mute. Only this album is like the grunge rock interpretation of the big trip out. For those of you that lack the time to burn incense, turn out the lights, lie down and dive into an album: don't worry. There are standard, animated rock songs on this album that prove to be suitable for any activity.

G.G. ALLIN AND THE ANITISEEN - MURDER JUNKIES published September 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-09-11T23:40:00.000-07:00

For someone who very well might have been the most un-enjoyable person to ever walk the face of the earth, a shit-terrorist, a violent asshole, a self-mutilator and a sexual assaulter, G.G. Allin made some enjoyable music for anyone whether they lived in the eye of the punk rock hurricane or not.

Murder Junkies will indeed make you sick with its reckless and morally inept lyrics but, goddamnit, will it rock you. If only because it speaks to the darkest crevices of the human soul, this album is still within the spectrum of acceptable. When you think about it, it's the ultimate hypocrisy. G.G. Allin wasn't a plain anarchist like The Sex Pistols. He was a monster without a real desire to gain a following since he had no real message. Anyone stupid enough to pay money to see him play a show was abused in a plethora of fashions. You would think a man so brutal wouldn't show mercy to a listening ear yet his music is melodic and, in terms of sound, law abiding. Allin rightfully should have been a noise artist like Merzbow. Now that's real abuse.

GUTTERMOUTH - SHAVE THE PLANET published September 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-09-11T23:38:00.000-07:00

First things first, you have to give a hand to any punk band who is still alive these days. Out of the genre comes bands that are simply born to die and if Guttermouth still draws breath, then they have figured something out.

Shave The Planet is classic Guttermouth but anyone who has been listening thus far would be the least surprised. The band has essentially sounded the same since the first album with the exception of 1999s Gorgeous which seemed a little more versatile with flecks of hardcore found in the predominantly skate-punk mix.

This is almost a complaint until certain songs stick out on the album that really remind you of the sense of humor of the band in not only its lyrics, but style. In the middle of rapid-fire power chords will all of the sudden appear a gut-busting solo. Every now and then, Mark Adkins will strap on a southern twang to his vocals. Small surprises like these keep listeners in the legions and keep a band loyal to their style, not bound to it. You like Guttermouth. You like Shave The Planet. Simple.

DEADSY - PHANTASMAGORE published September 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-09-11T23:35:00.000-07:00

Is it or is it not the ultimate "fuck you" when a band you hate and even have good reasons for hating comes out with an album that sticks to you like a thirsty leech? Damn, Deadsy. They found my weakness.

There is a campiness in Phantasmagore that really hasn't been offered to the rock community since Marilyn Manson went glam in a nod to Iggy Stardust and The Spiders from Mars with 1999's Mechanical Animals. Even Elijah Blue's voice is the same brand of growling tenor that is Manson's. However, Phantasmagore has a more modern-pop feel to it at its lighter moments.

There is a cover, yeah another one, of The Stones' "Paint It Black" that is done decently enough but could still pose a giggling threat. In fact, the entire album has a silliness to it that mainly stems from a single fact: for a band who's personal manifesto is so artsy and seemingly profound, they really know how to sell the classic, coked out, rock romp. Still, if you consider a synthesizer to be your kryptonite, this could be the album that you hate to love.

FISH KARMA - THE THEORY OF INTELLIGENT DESIGN published September 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-09-11T23:32:00.000-07:00

Let me throw this at you and if you tell me it isn't even close to being the coolest thing ever, I hate to break to you that you have no soul. Picture Doug from the classic Nicktoon of the same name in his sweater-vested glory replacing Page Hamilton as front man for Helmet. That's the first impression of Fish Karma in a nutshell. The first song, "Fifty Caliber Christ," is a sublime fix for the grunge addict with a goofy twist. From there is a barrage of country-esque acoustic songs plopped into the mix but there is never a dull moment.

Fish Karma is the pseudonym of comedian turned weirdo rock artist Terry Owen. However, this project is hardly a comedy album, that is, aside from an homage to Ronnie James Dio in the song "Dio Rocks." This album is the first of Owen's to come from the Alt. Tentacles label and it is fully a match made in heaven. Really, anything to come out of that label is choice.

FRANK BLACK @ THE CATALYST published September 2006, The Owl Mag

2006-09-11T23:28:00.000-07:00

Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned. I never liked The Pixies. If the last sentence hits close to home for you, it still doesn't mean that you can't love Frank Black, aka Black Francis, founder of The Pixies. In fact, loving this man will be your saving grace.

The show at the Catalyst was marked a "sit down show," however, the event calendar didn't specify a couple of important details. No one knew who the opener was, which was unimportant since they canceled. The fill-in was a gray haired guy who started his set playing two toy, electronic guitars, one of which was complete with Sesame Street voice snippets. This was mildly amusing of course until the audience realized that they were watching a comedy, one-man band and not just a soloist with a quirky opening.

The second detail undisclosed to the audience was that Black would be performing sans band and electric guitar - just a legend with his acoustic. This was truly a treat to the flock of aging, art-geeks populating the venue.

Black immediately opened with "Los Angeles" with a flubbed-up ending explaining "I've been playing that song since '92 and I still don't know how it ends." He also graced the patrons with some classic Pixies' songs including "Where Is My Mind?" Keeping the banter to a minimum, Black only paused sparsely throughout the show to joke about how all his songs end in a dramatic minor chord.

His command of the room was unbelievable given that really all people were watching was a tubby little man and a guitar. Yet his energy was ferociously welcoming and casual, his voice a nasally siren's song.

Black alone could be one of the great American songwriters and performers right up there with Neil Young and the show at the Catalyst was perfectly evident of that.

FLESHIES - SCRAPE THE WALLS pubished September 6, 2006, The Owl Mag

2006-09-11T23:26:00.000-07:00

There is a shortage of great band names left available for emerging bands. It's fact. You can rack your brain for weeks trying to come up with something cool and as soon as you’ve decided, you figure out it’s taken. So I don't know about you, but when I hear about a band called Fleshies, I really want to like them. Cool name, cool band, right? However, that is pretty much where the cool stops.

Despite an exciting vocal cameo care of Jello Biafra on one track, Scrape The Walls is a cold fish. This display of garage punk is one step below stale. It is almost impossible to detect what it is that is missing from this act. It just screams day jobs and minivans, like not all of the possible energy is plunged into the project. On the other hand, this is not a band that will fuck up your day and not even make you ask for the 45 minutes it took you to listen to this album back. Points for the name, though!

DEAD TO ME - CUBAN BALLERINA published August 30, 2006, The Owl Mag

2006-09-11T23:23:00.000-07:00

It's funny because Dead To Me is punk and punk is, in a lot of ways, very dead to me. Yet there is hope to be found in Cuban Ballerina as it takes everything unbearable about pop punk and either transforms it or kicks it out completely. The first thing to go is the token, disgustingly whiny singer replaced by a guy that actually sounds like both testicles have dropped. Big ups to singer Jack Dalrymple for putting his back into it. Finally, a singer that will inspire body rocking: not involuntary twitching.

The improvements lie in the overall tone of the record as it is uplifting and light, yet not sickly peppy and sunny. Truly, the band deserves to be more on the punk side of the spectrum than the pop side. Cuban Ballerina can bring a smile to the face of the most jaded child of punk just out of simple relief. Thank god it's not another pop punk band!

Kudos Shmudos.

2006-08-25T22:43:00.000-07:00

In this month's issue of Zero, my editor was kind enough to publish my first piece of hate mail regarding an article I wrote for the May issue (The Drogues). It was received from a disgruntled and rather confusing reader who went on to suggest that if I want to continue my career as a rock critic, I should listen to some Ozzy Osbourne and "get a bloody clue." Yeah right, buddy. I need to broaden my horizons and experience the solo career of Black Sabbath's former, half-dead, lead singer. My musical repertiore is yet incomplete in lacking fucking Ozzy.

You're an idiot.

Furthermore, I reviewed a local punk band and compared them to The Buzzcocks...where then is the Ozzy prescription warranted from? The guy's criticism was not my being partial to the punk genre...in fact it isn't really clear what his problem was. I would thank him though if I got the chance. Bonus opportunity for my name to be published...even if it was misspelled.

P.S. The picture in the above right hand corner is supposedly of Mike Patton's hands.

A BAND OF BEES - FREE THE BEES published August 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-08-06T12:58:00.000-07:00

This is a weird dilemma. Imagine that you are so sick of all this nostalgia music: Interpol with 80's homage and Wolfmother with their enormously obvious nod to Led Zeppelin. Then you hear a band like Band of Bees that is just so colorful and swanky but is nothing more than a time warp to the 60's. The 60's! Who does that? And those who might take on this sound certainly don't make it definitive of their style. But these guys…

This album dives right in. It makes no attempts to take an era-specific genre and add modern twists to it. Taking something old and innovating on it is what truly makes it interesting and it is obvious that this is not the philosophy of The Bees. Bands like these are normally only good for parties, clubs, or any live venue just for the vintage atmosphere. But this band does it so well, purely and pristinely. It is truly as if someone could hand you this record and tell you these guys hit their peek in '65 and burnt out by '70 and you would take the bait. Therein lies the dilemma. Even if you are so tired of the nostalgia music, you might just love this band all the same. Try not to fight it.

THE WEEGS - THE MILLION SOUNDS OF BLACK published August 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-08-06T12:50:00.000-07:00

I can really only equate the first track of The Million Sounds of Black to what I think would be the sound of drowning. It's spooky, watery and just seems wrong. I'm not a fan of drowning and I doubt many are but nonetheless anyone would be compelled to listen further. That is, anyone who craves the weird. Anyone who thirsts for dissonance and a slight discomfort to their melody.

San Francisco's The Weegs to me sound like the love child born of an orgy between Mr. Bungle, Devo, and maybe a little Flaming Lips. File under "what the fuck?" The sound is thin and has a still-in-utero air to it but it surpasses potential greatness into just plain greatness. In fact, the thinness of this project might be a more alluring aspect to it since bands in the experimental genre have the tendency to thicken up their sound thinking that intricacy is their only weapon. In other words, The Weegs are thumbs up as is. No polishing required.

ROUND THREE FIGHT - FORGET WHAT YOU'VE HEARD, TRUST WHAT YOU KNOW published August 5, 2006, The Owl Mag

2006-08-06T12:49:00.000-07:00

Round Three Fight's Forget What You've Heard, Trust What You Know follows all the mandatory pop punk rules: sufficient energy, vocals with a boy-ish charm, singable choruses, harmonies in the right places, subject matter light, sugary, rooted in teen angst. Think of blink-182 when they weren't cracking dirty jokes and just make them a little more forlorn.

Whether you will like this album really depends on whether or not the above mentioned criteria are what get you going. They fit the mold perfectly but somehow fail to carve their own niche within the genre. With a sea of bands out there making the same kinds of music, it is an arduous challenge to stick out. After a few tracks of this album, you might be begging for a scream or a minor chord somewhere in there just to mix it up a bit.

SICBAY - SUSPICIOUS ICONS published July 9, 2006, The Owl Mag

2006-08-06T12:46:00.000-07:00

Suspicious Icons compromises nothing while deliciously hinting at punk upbringings. The guitars are thin and simple, but slowed down just enough to appreciate while slicked over with muddy tones. Vocalist Nick Sakes is a cornucopia of textures and at his most gruff takes punk back to simpler times. It abandons youthful obnoxiousness and polishes it with mature intricacy.

The sound of this album is utterly genreless. Therein lies your new rebellion. It’s no longer about belonging to a movement so ferociously that you become as stubborn and close-minded as the figures (parents) that you rage against. It’s about being you, all the combinations of eras and experiences. In this respect, Suspicious Icons can speak for everyone.

PEEPING TOM - PEEPING TOM published July 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-07-02T17:52:00.000-07:00

Mike Patton might as well be Austin Powers. He is an international man of mystery if there ever was one. The man surpasses genre, singing, and music as a whole with every project he puts his hands on. The latest is Peeping Tom, Patton's vision of pop music resulting in a commanding mix of alt rock and r&b sprinkled with the best elements of gangsta rap.

The collaboration king ventures out with a laundry list of talent that includes The Roots' human beatbox Rahzel, Massive Attack, Dan the Automator and jazz-textured singer Norah Jones. Some may have been under the impression that Jones was going to be uncharacteristically cursing a blue streak on one of the tracks. Instead the song "Sucker" only really has one dirty word in it but god, is it worth it. Jones' clean and skilled vocals are transformed into sublime sleaziness.

Patton's vocals are renown for their flexibility and this project only reiterates that. Remaining constant are lyrics that will make you do a double take which is again one more thing I love about Mike Patton. "I know that assholes grow on trees/ but I'm here to trim the leaves." Whether it makes you think or just giggle, who cares? This is a good album for anyone, Patton fan or not.

18 CANDLES: THE EARLY YEARS - SILVERSTEIN published July 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-07-02T17:44:00.000-07:00

Imagine that long after The Descendants were at their peak, Milo Aukerman was dumped by a woman and while in the midst of his depression he was jumped by gang-bangers. Imagine that this happened like once a week. One of two things would happen. The Descendants would switch to death metal and tour with Cannibal Corpse because Milo would be just too pissed off to be emo/punk anymore. Or Milo would start to sound like Shane Told from Silverstein because in his extreme vulnerability he would have lost the will to rock.

Silverstein could be a solid band to those who grew up on good ol', whiney, "she left me" punk rock and this chronicling of their six-year career is good evidence of that. It adequately shows their progression over the years from emo to screamo, from crying babies to sniveling adults. It's their niche and they fit into it well and even make it their own with pleasant violin additions and a refreshing variety of tone colors. But my god. There is something in Shane Told's voice that can ruin it for you. Something that makes Silverstein seem melodramatic to the point of hilarity. If you can disregard that, you're in the clear and you can get this otherwise well put-together collection.

TOMIHIRA - PLAY DEAD published July 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-07-02T17:40:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you but I actually miss when I when hear a band and the first thing that would strike me are the vocals. Fortunately for me and anyone else who shares my longing, Dean Tomihira has such a voice.

San Francisco Bay Area's Tomihira is a band that satisfies a masochistic sweet tooth one might have for other bands such as Joy Division or Interpol. In fact the vocals can also be said to have the likeness of other melancholy crooners such as Chris Martin and at darker moments, Peter Murphy.

Let's talk about these darker moments for this is the saving grace of Tomihira. The 80's nostalgia music movement is getting a little obese here. It seems that bands have been skulking in the woodwork, waiting for someone to finally tell them that it was ok to once again proclaim how their lives are like a black rose. Woe. Is. Me. At first glance, you could say Tomihira is in the same box yet with songs like "Maddy & Josh," the band revisits darker sonority that is completely neglected by other like-minded bands. So maybe there is hope. If this band explores the goth side of pop even a little further and without becoming just another Bauhaus, they'd be wisely redirecting an already solid and intriguing sound.

PANSY DIVISION - THE ESSENTIAL PANSY DIVISION published July 2, 2006, The Owl Mag

2006-07-02T17:36:00.000-07:00

When other rockers were flirting with gay or bisexual undertones, Pansy Division were painting the town pink with their blatant homosexuality. This essential collection showcases the best of their trail blazing career, including rare videos and TV appearances.

Their lyrics raised a new pillar in vulgarity. They were here and queer. They didn't speak for gay rights: they just spoke the minds of gay men. But when the dust clears and the shock wears off, Pansy Division is just another great band that wrote great songs. The first time you hear "Homo Christmas," you could swear it's just another hetero punk band trying to make a stupid joke. So you laugh and feel slightly guilty. Then you realize it's just the fruit of Jon Ginoli's horny mind. And hey, why not? Nastier things have been coming out of the rap and R&B genre for decades, and it hasn't made us laugh nearly as much.

DEFLATOR MOUSE - THE NEW ONE published June 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-06-14T11:20:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid and Saturday morning cartoons were still an immovable part of my schedule, Deflator Mouse was my favorite character from The Tick. While he was silly, he was often surly. It is in this respect that name selection for this band is brilliant. Point in case is the song "Fuck Tom Cruise" that ever so cheerfully wishes the actor's involvement in any kind of horrible accident.

Brilliant is yet again a word to describe Deflator Mouse's sound however it is not in the genius sense. The tone of this album is so bright it is blinding. Listening to it is like biting into a ripe orange: so sweet that you are almost forced to cringe. However, the energy of this project is it’s redemption. This is a sound suitable for a listener who is a mover and shaker looking for an upbeat soundtrack to their life. If you are a busy little bee, you will find Deflator Mouse's brand of pop rock invigorating.

- Briana Hernandez

ROLLO TOMASI - WORK SLOW, CRUSH FOES published June 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-06-14T11:13:00.000-07:00

Call me old-fashioned. I like rock that rocks and this means epic drums, chunky guitars, bumping bass, angry singer. Rollo Tomasi is a breath of fresh air amidst the tepid climate of bands neglecting the power element of their sound in the pursuit of originality.

Work Slow, Crush Foes is the archetype of the perfect modern rock record in terms of sound. It is relentless, refusing to be pushed to the background and at the perfect moments it is merciful, allotting time to stop head-banging just when you thought your neck was about to snap in two. Lyrically, the album leaves something to be desired but nothing to be annoying. Bland and literal lyrics are better than cheesy ones.

Originally, the name Rollo Tomasi came from the movie L.A. Confidential wherein it was the name given to an anonymous killer. It's a nice little reference yet is accidentally symbolic of the band. As a group, Rollo Tomasi is just another anonymous band. But as an extension of the rock genre, these guys are delivering and in time are certain to evolve into their own.
- Briana Hernandez

KILL - CANNIBAL CORPSE published May 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-05-15T11:26:00.000-07:00

You get a warm, fuzzy feeling inside when you open the liner notes to Kill and see the panoramic photo of Cannibal Corpse in their long-haired, metal T-shirted glory. It reminds you that there are still things in this world that you can depend on. You can't count on gas prices, keeping your job or avoiding natural disaster. But you can always count on Cannibal Corpse being balls-out metal to the bone.

Just like scotch tastes better with age, Cannibal Corpse sounds better with every album. Kill, the tenth album in the CC discography is meticulously timed and ever brutal. Track listings are the signature brand of grotesque: “Five Nails Through The Neck,” “Submerged In Boiling Flesh” and “Barbaric Bludgeonings.” You know you're a great band when you manage to be as musically talented as you are disgusting. And Cannibal Corpse is pretty goddamned gross.

The entire album is relentless and even overwhelming as typical of all their albums. Take in small doses to truly bask in the majesty that is these death metal minstrels.

THE DROGUES - NO FACTS THAT DON'T FIT published May 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-05-15T11:12:00.000-07:00

Here's the most important question. Do we really need more 80s punk inspired indie rock bands? Firstly, I have always believed that if a band's influences are just too obvious, that original aspect I'm sure they intended to offer is somehow lost in translation and they become a step away from being a cover band therefore rendering themselves useless to anyone who is outside of a club and sober. Secondly, being influenced by great bands, and a variety at that, is a must for creating a good sound. Thirdly, some of the greatest bands did come out of the 80s punk era. Therefore, yeah. We need more bands with that influence and we need more decent, energetic bands like The Drogues.

This East Bay based group is a fun rendition of thin and simple Buzzcocks rock. They managed to take what I love about the Toadies and lowered it a few decibels which surprisingly does not disappoint. I think we live in a world where we definitely need a new Green Day and dare I say it, this trio could be up for the running.

THE DITTY BOPS - MOON OVER THE FREEWAY published May 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-05-15T11:08:00.000-07:00

Happy trails. It's time to go. Take your few most precious belongings, wrap them in a polka dotted handkerchief, tie it to the end of a stick and sling it over your shoulder. The horizon lies before you, your past behind, and the album that is playing in your mind is Moon Over The Freeway.

Folk-hybrid duo Amanda Barrett and Abby Dewald actually sound as adorable as they look. Think of the delicate, fairy tale teller voice of Leigh Nash of Sixpence None The Richer and make it slightly less corny.

However the subject matter of both bands' songs are equally cute and kiddie. When you begin listening to this album, you may think the cuteness factor of the Ditty Bops may be their biggest asset if not their only one. Then suddenly you are hit with slightly darker and downbeat songs like “Growing Upside Down” and “Fall Awake.” Here is where the girls' maturity and range really shows. The lyrics are reminiscent of a slightly sedated Tracy Bonham. Overall, whether you can swallow this project really depends on whether or not you have a cuddly side that likes old time jingles, female folk and sugary covers of Bye Bye Love. Your choice.
- Briana Hernandez

This just in from Ipecac...

2006-04-24T23:19:00.000-07:00

Peeping Tom will debut on Conan Friday, May 26. Along with Mike Patton will be Dub Trio, Rob Swift and Miho Hatori. They will be performing the album's first single "Mojo."

I might...faint.

Daily Affirmation

2006-04-22T14:47:00.000-07:00

Reading Henry Rollins' daily dispatches on the 2.13.61 website. This guy is truly one of my heroes. I just think it's so cool to see a person as insightful and...useful as he is to take time to write about his day just because people were curious enough to ask him to do it.

The small venue Tool shows sold out in ten minutes today and, no, I did not acquire a ticket. I am half relieved about this. As we all know, 10,000 Days is set to release next Tuesday the 2nd. The show in Oakland is on the 4th. This would only give me a total of two measly days to get comfy with the album before hearing the songs live. I already made that mistake with Lateralus in high school and I won't do it again.

Why not just download the album now like everyone and their mother is doing? I'm not against downloading. I pirate music from the internet. Yes, I am a pirate. But I've got plans for the 2nd that shan't be spoiled. These plans consist of buying the album, taking it into my den and not coming out for at least 4 hours. One hour listening. Three reflecting. As a rock critic, I am a creature of habit. While I am listening to the material, I research, I examine, I determine. If I don't know a lot about the band, I get online and gather what I can. I download past work to make comparisons. But one of my most essential habits is the careful inspection of liner notes, lyrics and album art/packaging. I am a dictionary of names so liner notes can usually help me make connections between artist collaborations. (For example, did you know that Josh Freese did the drums on Tracy Bonham's The Burden of Being Upright? Rad).

Looking at album art has often inspired me with a theme for longer reviews. Honestly, I need all the inspiration I can get. Music is such a broad category and there are so many subjects out there. It's easy to get jaded and start thinking that everything just sounds the same therefore how can you describe it since you already have? Bands like Tool awaken me from ruts like that.

Pumpkins to smash again

2006-04-21T13:07:00.000-07:00

Pillars of grunge The Smashing Pumpkins are supposedly regrouping and recording soonly. So far on board is Jimmy Chamberlin and Billy Corgan. D'arcy and James are as of yet not confirmed allthough Melissa Auf De Mar is ready and willing to take bass if needed.

Where does the inspiration lie for this??? It may have something to do with the fact that Billy's Future Embrace and the whole Zwan thing were utter flops and the only other member of the original line-up is in another currently dead band, Maynard James Keenan's project, A Perfect Circle. It's gonna take a lot to resurrect this band because think about it. How do you remember them? Is the first album that comes to mind Machina? Ava Adore? Hell no. It's Siamese Dream. It's Gish. I look back fondly on the Corgan that had hair.

True, the Pumpkins did evolve into a completely different band and fans still embraced them. But that evolutionary period was cut short. Long before it could have any impact therefore scrapping the whole thing. The band now has to start from scratch as their only hope. I'm curious but not hopeful.

Janis Joplin Biopic

2006-04-17T20:54:00.000-07:00

Possible persons to play Janis Joplin in a biopic: Pink, Brittany Spears, Scarlet Johansen, Linsey Lohan.

Pink dropped out of the project supposedly because she didn't agree with the It Girl contest it created and I respect that decision. And despite the fact that her music sucks and she might kinda suck, I cocked my head at the thought of her playing Janis. She definitely has a good wail face for lipsyncing (because NO ONE will ever sing like Janis) and I bet they could make her ugly enough.

As far as the other candidates, I exclaim a monumental WHAT THE FUCK??? I'm not opposed to putting a big name in this picture. Fine. Whatever. Just make sure she is fucking worthy for fuck's sake!

Daily Affirmation

2006-04-17T10:16:00.000-07:00

This weekend I bought Fantomas' Suspended Animation and Dillinger Escape Plan's Miss Machine. The former is scrumptious and I hope to have every Fantomas album in the near future. Can Mike Patton do any wrong??? I seriously doubt this. The latter is an album I have heard before and was an impulse buy. This is the latest album with the new singer who I hate. The whole project sounds more like fucking Thrice than Dillinger. And I like Thrice. Therefore I don't mind the album. This doesn't change the fact that it's not Dillinger and it should be and it is still a failure of an album. But oh well.

On average, I buy two CD's every pay period. This last pay period I bought Tom ahawk's Mit Gas and Mr. Bungle's self titled which I am currently addicted to. Such a monster chameleon that band is. A genre shape shifter. Usually, bands like these are too much for me. Too much sound to process and too many emotions and energies aroused so I am in constant flux and cannot find a groove. But this album is the most metal out of all Bungle albums and that melds it together. It almost constantly rocks. Not to mention that I haven't heard Mike Patton's voice so whiny and nasally since FNM's The Real Thing and I love that. It's sexy.

Mit Gas is a good but bizarre album at times. Definitely a lot more rockier than the first album but there is this one song Captain Midnight...TOTALLY DREDG it's scary. Watery fucking guitars, little, tiny techno trimmings smashing into a singy/screamy chorus. Fucking what??? I've never heard Patton conform to the pop rock song template. I still like the song though. I just think it's funny.

I signed up to interview Fat Mike for the magazine this month. But I haven't heard anything back yet so I prolly didn't get it. Not surprised. I'm an amateur and a young one at that so I'm sure they wouldn't go out of their way to give me a shot at a big interview. I also signed up to review the new Cannibal Corpse which I am positive I won't get. But oh well. I also asked for some shit I have never heard of: The Drogues and The Ditty Bops. Let's hope I get fucking something.

VARIOUS ARTISTS - METAL=LIFE unpublished

2006-04-15T13:49:00.000-07:00

A compilation called Metal=Life centering the newest wave of the genre wouldn’t, repeat, WOULD NOT be complete without an Into The Moat selection. For a second I expected to see Dillinger Escape Plan on this collection but then I remembered that they suck now.

But it’s good to see that Madball still sucks ass and that my current and 14 year old self would at least have one thing to agree on. And I heard a solid buzz about Vena Amori so I was disappointed to find that they sound like The Chipmunks covering Thursday. Ugh. Even saying that made me want to gag.

The best thing about this included DVD is that it will make you hate bands you already hate just a little bit more. Thanks to Avenged Sevenfold for yet another video showing us all your cool little high school fans getting A7X tattoos right before your show. That’s so fucking original. And whoever did Into The Moat’s video deserves to be shot in the face for making such a tacky, Nickelodeon Kids Club interpretation of metal. No point in showing the crowd when it’s a bunch of assholes doing ballet in empty pits.

Daily Affirmation, May 2005 Livejournal

2006-04-15T13:22:00.000-07:00

The highlight of my day was spent at my local Tower studying up on all the new releases. Spoon just came out with a new album which is very delicious and I would have bought it if I had enough money. Self meets new Wilco minus a half pound of tech. Mellow with a swagger.

The first work I investigated was With Teeth and although I was apprehensive at first from the disappointing single and the negative feedback I have heard from other loyal NIN fans, I still bought it. That fact alone says little, however. Cuz yeah, it's still Nine Inch Nails. It's STILL whining and screeching laced in industrial grit, it's still smash riffs and rolls bundled together with a silk ribbon of electronic ditty yet there are two big factors surrounding With Teeth that separate it negatively from all previous albums. One, yeah the single blows. But radio release or not, I have never heard a NIN song I absolutely loathed until I heard The Hand That Feeds. Two, NIN songs have always been so dramatic in pure sonority, capturing human thriving and suffering so precisely that they have been ideal for usage in movie soundtracks. Case in point: Natural Born Killers, The Lost Highway and my favorite sampling from The Fragile in Man On Fire in every scene Denzel Washington is hunting down mutherfuckers. Considering this, I cant picture one song from With Teeth suitable for such purposes. It lacks not technique, angle or experience...just power.

I also dug my teeth into System of a Down's Mesmerized. When I first heard BYOB, the first thing I noticed was that Daron was not only singing more, his vocals overshadowed Serj's even when harmonizing. So I wasn't surprised when I saw that Rick Rubin and Daron produced the album as opposed to Rick Rubin and SOAD. Daron's extra vocals aren't necessary. Serj is a better singer/screamer. The vocals were fine just as they were in Toxicity and the self titled so like they say, if it ain't broke...

SOAD's always been a playful band but they may have let their innerchild run rampant on this one transforming their ragging ruckus into a toddler's temper tantrum. Yet songs like Question! revitalize their dynamic function within the Nu Metal community that has always set them aside from the pack. And where SOAD sporadically lacks in groove they have always more than made up for in sharp, politically charged lyrics.

Weezer's newest is STILL WEEZER. I fucking hated the green album so fucking much. Loved Maladroit. And although this is a far cry from Maladroit, it is a progression from it. Yet, think of Weezer. It's a simple sound that is seemlingly allowed little room to advance in without gutting out completely, hence the resulting green album. That wasn't Weezer. So...its hard to be Weezer. You gotta stay you but you gotta keep doing what you do but you can't keep doing the same thing over and over again. What gives? But I think they found the answer. With no lack of follies, though. In atleast one song, they seem to be doing the retro 80's chic thing that killed No Doubt and continues to slowly butcher Gwen Stefani. The arcade synth The Strokes dug up from six feet under and failed to question why it was burried in the first place. Oh yeah, CUZ IT WAS BEATEN TO DEATH AND THEN SOME. Oh well. Let's do it again. doo do do do do. Whole nother can 'o' worms.

ULTRA DOLPHINS - WHY ARE YOU LAUGH? published April 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-04-15T11:58:00.000-07:00

If it were up to me, any new band that wanted to be good would have to register at some DMV type place, define their style and list their influences. If their style was something to the effect of nuts or crazy or totally, wicked hyper and they didn't listen to Hella, they would be required to. What am I getting at? I think Ultra Dolphins listen to Hella and I give them a high-five for that.

The fact that craziness like this can be birthed from Virginia is mind-boggling. Ultra Dolphins is made from the same stuff that makes new pop bands so exciting. This is not to say that they perfectly fit the mold. Take the ADDarific structure of The Blood Brothers and add to it a delicious dissonance factor and riffage nostalgic to classic Smashing Pumpkins (circa before Billy Corgan bic'd his dome-piece). What is most reassuring to a promising band like this is to be taken in by a good label like Robotic Empire who have worked with bands such as Crowpath, Ed Gein and Opeth. Together, band and label have produced a nicely done, swanky, EP.

THE SAMMUS THEORY - MAN WITHOUT EYES published April 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-04-15T11:56:00.000-07:00

Here's how you know a debut album is good and it's simpler than you would have thought. If you are allowed to feel or in some way sense the blood, sweat and tears that went into making the record, it's worth your time. The album in question can even slightly suck but if that doesn't get in the way, you know you've got a decent work on your hands. On this criterion, Man Without Eyes squeaks by but makes it all the same.

A definite asset to these guys is their collective musician's resume. Drummer Joe Morris tours with Esteban and has done a handful of TV show themes. Guitarist/bassist Gary Pozner has also worked with various big artists. All the members are definitely solid players with the weakest link being singer Sammus. This guy had at one point reminded me of Layne Staley and Scott Weilan's love child and at another: Amy fricken' Lee. But something in you halts when the words "this guy sucks" creep into your throat. Bottom line, it boils down to potential and you can just smell it when listening to this album. If Sammus Theory comes out with another album, I'd be intrigued to see how they have polished up.

SEPULTURA - LIVE IN SAO PAULO published February 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-04-15T11:52:00.000-07:00

There are few words in the English language that sound sexier when put together than these three: Brazilian, death-metal. And now the god-fathers of this movement in world music have put together a monster of a live album that proves after 20 years of rocking, they are still very alive and kicking.

Singer Derrick Green's vocals are as blunt and hazardous as a metal mallet. It is more than a relief to hear him pushing it to the limit during a live show. Most great singers tend to perform while preserving their voices, pacing themselves for the long tour. This is totally understandable so we can only conclude that Green is superhuman.

Who else has a weakness for the didjeridu? Not only is it a bitch to play, it just sounds amazing. Every element of Sepultura is crystal clear in the live show. The brisk, afro-cuban drums, the chunky guitars. Nothing is held back. Even Green's speaking voice touches a nerve deep in your stomach that convinces you if he talked to you face to face, you would vomit all over his shoes and he would have to kill you.

Daily Affirmation

2006-04-14T20:04:00.000-07:00

Today I happened to hear a song on the radio and I immediatly thought that the singer sounded like a slightly British version of Tom DeLonge. Then the DJ said it was Angels and Airwaves, the Tom DeLonge solo project. On a negative note: gross. On a positive note: damn, I'm good.

SLEEPYTIME GORILLA MUSEUM - OF NATURAL HISTORY published February 2006, Zero Magazine

2006-04-13T13:34:00.000-07:00

Editor's Note: This review was a pick of the month so it was enlarged and boxed in print. Pretty cool, huh?

"Here we go" is what you may think when you set eyes upon this album with its entomology charts and endless history text. You're a busy person and a concept album doesn't quite fit into your life that already has its share of concepts. And what the hell do you know about insects in the first place?

Relax. Of Natural History is enjoyable without annotation. You can get to the futurists vs. the Unabomber later. If you painted the picture of an SGM fan, they would be thick-skinned, satisfied with difficulty, affectionate of the insane. In other words, they love Bungle, Black Heart Procession, anything sweetly off-kilter, borderline silly, and for the love of god, different.

A common complaint about avant-garde music (at least that I have) is that it seems afraid to rock. It has a fear of being too melodic or too heavy and structured. But some of these songs are slightly metal. And the fact that Carla Kihlstedt sounds like an American Bjork is a plus, too. This band can probably do anything. If someone told me tomorrow that they could fly, I might believe that as well. Save yourself and get this album.

ION DISSONANCE - SOLACE published December 2005, Zero Magazine

2006-04-13T13:31:00.000-07:00

The all too familiar heartbreak. We've all encountered it. A band debuts, you love them, you follow them, they come out with the second album, you're stoked, you hear it…it sucks.

If Ion Dissonance gave you extremely high expectations with 2003's Breathing is Irrelevant, they have been shattered albeit in a slightly unconventional way. Usually, the sophomore rule of thumb is that the first album is raw energy un-harnessed and the following album is that energy further explored, now polished and organized which in most cases results in a less moving product. Yet here, Solace carries the same dynamic presence which lacks no dimension or structure and instead is missing…what? You don't know. You'll get halfway through the album before it finally hits you that this band used to be a whole lot more colorful. It seems simple enough but it's easy to take for granted how pitch and tone can lift and plummet your spirits as if they are merely riding the wavelengths.

The one comforting thing about sophomore syndrome is that some bands escape falling into this new direction, realize they had a great sound before they tried to improve on it, rediscover that sound and go on to make better records. So, Ion Dissonance isn't worth giving up on just yet.

GIZMACHI - THE IMBUING published November 2005, Zero Magazine

2006-04-13T13:26:00.000-07:00

First of all, it shouldn't be a disclaimer to listeners that The Imbuing was produced by M. Shaun Crahan, the #6 member of Slipknot who is known as Clown. If you are at all familiar with Slipknot, it is comically obvious. By the fourth track, you will already hear guitar wines and drum rolls which are identical to ones found on Slipknot's self-titled. But hey, at least they chose the best of all Slipknot albums to emulate.

So this is strike one. Strike two, this guy's scream at times feels more like Bobcat Goldwaith than any singer I've heard. But I don't know what's more annoying, the fact that it happens at all or the fact that it doesn't happen all the time. The rest of the time, Sean Kane can wail decently enough. And this is the essence of Gizmachi. One minute, you are tired of being reminded of the nu-metal everyone loved in highschool, the next you are drooling over fluttering solos, cracked-out structure and, what's this, vocal harmonies! The Imbuing is rooted on the borderline between Ozzfest, commercial metal easily sold out at your local Hot Topic and evolutionary, virtuoso, intelligent metal. Gizmachi could end up on either side of that line but if we lose them to the high school kids, it would be a waste.

CRYPTOPSY - ONCE WAS NOT published November 2005, Zero Magazine

2006-04-13T13:20:00.000-07:00

What do most metal bands have in common? They all love Cryptopsy. This band, having been around for more than a decade, can and damn well should be known as a seminal metal outfit. Yet don't think ten years plus has in any way wore down the intrinsic energy of their special brand of sound bombardment.

Once Was Not is an eleven track heart attack. No, scratch that. Heart attacks aren't as sadistic. A coronary for the most part will not allow you little breaks to catch your breath just to sustain you from passing out. This album likes its victims live, aware and blown away.

It's so nice to hear a metal band that doesn't neglect tone color. Chunky guitars, crazy time signatures and blast beats are fun and hard to get tired of when brutally arranged. Yet actual notes, solos and harmonies can end up neglected. Cryptopsy fulfills this with splendid guitar that would only be silky if slowed down. Not that we would ever want them to slow down, right?

Because their influence on all kinds of great bands, you can say that Cryptopsy is a platter of all your favorite things metal. Take the crazy structure of Dillinger Escape Plan, the gruff vocal styles of Cannible Corpse and Gwar, and the ambience of Meshuggah.

TERMINAL - HOW THE LONELY KEEP unpublished

2006-04-12T23:20:00.000-07:00

Let’s not mince words. Finding out these guys were youngsters (ranging from 18-21) was not surprising. In fact, it relieved me a little as it seemed to be a decent excuse for the excruciatingly bland sound that is Terminal. How many times will I hear these watered down versions of bands like Thrice and Thursday? Those guys walk the emo line with an added edge that keeps them teetering and interesting while bands like Terminal just haven’t figured out what makes them distinct. It’s the same prattling beat over and over and prolonged exposure to it could only be equated to a full day of Chinese water torture.

Terminal seems to be a project reaching in the dark and this album’s attempts to find their niche in this genre have failed. The song “Dark” could exemplify such attempts with its opening electronic beat. Again, how many times will I see bands adding such garnishes at an endeavor at diversity? It takes something truly unspoken to make a band not “just another band.” But who knows? Maybe they will find it. Fuck, like you knew what you were doing at 18.

IRON MAIDEN - THE ESSENTIAL IRON MAIDEN published September 2005, Zero Magazine

2006-04-12T23:14:00.000-07:00

Is it just me or do most best of’s start off with their first hits and go forward chronologically? It’s safe for most bands, I suppose. Here, the songs you like are first and we snuck in the new, shitty songs you don’t give a rats ass about at the end. Just please buy it. But this isn’t most bands. It’s Iron Maiden who will rock until death and not just look dead while trying to rock, much like skeletal icons Aerosmith and the Stones.

The Essential Iron Maiden’s first track is “Paschendale” off 2003’s Dance of Death. Ballsy, yes, to open up with the new shit yet hardly a gamble. It’s a statement that Iron Maiden have always made. They won’t apologize for aging. They will only apologize for sucking and it is a sorrow they will never have to express.

From this point, the collection goes backward, reminiscing with songs like “Fear of the Dark” and “Aces High” until finally reaching the trio of songs you would have to be born under a rock on Mars not to have known (since birth, in my case) “The Trooper,” “Number of the Beast,” and “Run To The Hills.” Jesus, if the opening riff of the latter doesn’t take you back to simpler times, check your pulse to see if you are still living.

ARCH ENEMY - DOOMSDAY MACHINE published September 2005, Zero Magazine

2006-04-12T23:09:00.000-07:00

Admit it. Metal, in all its splendor and beauty, has a mandatory quotient of corniness. If you want to debate this, try watching Visions of the Beast without cracking up just a little. If you succeed and aren’t a high school drop-out gas station attendant, we’ll talk. Metal has a grandiosity from its upbringing that is hard to abandon. Hard if you are not Arch Enemy.

In Doomsday Machine, all metal cheese is melted away and scorched a crispy black. The unfathomably androgynous vocals of Angela Gossow are undoubtedly a key role in this. Joining Arch Enemy in 2001, Gossow gives the band one of the rarest assets in music and opens the door for the female population of wailers. Her grit and strength will rattle the cartilage right out of your knees and is literally unlike anything you have heard.

Doomsday Machine is captivating from intro (which giddily reminded me of the opening theme from X-Men and what is cooler than that?) to end. The oh so chunkiness of the brothers Amott guitars is basically orgasmic. The tracks are relentless and the only breather you are allowed is during a little undistorted Floyd homage in “My Apocalypse” Overall, very un-disappointing.

Sleater-Kinney, Mary Timony @ The Warfield, published July 2005, Zero Magazine

2006-04-12T23:05:00.000-07:00

I remember Mary Timony. I remember her first not as the singer of Helium, one of the 90s girl empowerment vehicles more on the Murmurs side of the spectrum than the 7 Year Bitch end. No, I remember Mary Timony being ridiculed for her large nostrils on an episode of Beavis and Butthead. While the size of said nostrils is a subjective matter, the size of Mary Timony’s sound is a lot bigger and deceptively so. Timony’s act consisted of only herself and a drummer. This two-piece recipe is usually a thin mix yet other bass-less bands like Hella and Mates of State have formed their own way to make it cook and this is also true for Timony. However, someone neglected to tell Miss Mary that just because you tour with Sleater-Kinney doesn’t mean you have to sound like Corin Tucker. That was annoying.

This was nowhere near the band I met almost a decade ago yet everything essentially great about it remained the same: Corin Tucker’s wailing voice stronger and sharper than adamantium claws, harmonious guitars reflecting the perfect chemistry between Tucker and Carrie Brownstein that could only be further illustrated by the goo-goo faces they made at each other the entire show. This was the performance of a band that no longer needed to prove they could play. No longer needed to tell the entire world that women could hold their own in male-dominated rock. They’ve already done it and they continue to answer the question that others couldn’t: "now what?"

WALKEN--published July 2005, Zero Magazine

2006-04-12T23:00:00.000-07:00

It is undeniable fact that the three greatest bands to come out of Half Moon Bay in the past five years have been Under A Dying Sun, Insignia, and of course Walken. Anyone familiar with the former is most likely in love with their brand of hyper-gasm, melodic weirdo metal. Walken has always had a vast range of sound that managed to make them genre-less yet still distinct which is true of some of the best bands out there.

So why they went in whatever direction they did to produce their latest self titled is beyond me. This new work is only at times a shadow of the Walken we know and love. Robust breakdowns carry this album yet they are cruelly sparse. There are even points while listening where you can easily convince yourself that 311 got together to cover a few Walken songs and this is some sort of a joke. And if only that were true.

Instead, the reality faced is that Walken have taken some steps into an abyss most likely the result of changes in line-up. It’s forgivable for loyalists and even enjoyable to those who aren’t familiar with the glory days of this band. Only time will tell whether this is in fact a solid version of Walken or a transitional funk.

FEERSUM ENNJIN--published July 2005, Zero Magazine

2006-04-12T22:31:00.000-07:00

Over a decade ago, Paul D’Amour wrote a bass line that made my heart swell three sizes larger exactly like the Grinch’s when he realized he couldn’t steal Christmas from Whoville. It was in the song "Sober" that D’Amour produced the first gurgles of a rock baby that would grow up to be a goddamned rock monster. Yet, D’Amour shortly thereafter left Tool to pursue his own…interests. His latest is the solo project Feersum Ennjin.

Immediate reaction, this five song EP doesn’t waste time breaking any promises of ferocity that a name like Feersum Ennjin would possibly make. The expectations of a smooth roar are shattered with the delivery this stale, diet Nine Inch Nails, kitten mew. Even the very first notes sound like a cheesy, ring-tonesque report of Third Eye which is only made further appalling by misplaced Cure synth.

The most annoying thing about this album is that you can come really close to liking it until you realize that D’Amour was a bass player for a reason. His voice sucks. Maybe back in the day, when D’Amour was the prettiest member of Tool, someone approached him and told him he was too good looking to be a faceless bassist and he should do his own thing. I’m hoping this is true instead of someone actually telling him he could write better songs on his own.