Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Beyond The Shore, I Am Scum Between Your Toes, The Pepsi Challenge

I look once more...
Many of you may be able to relate with this. But lately I have been feeling like I am approaching a fork in the road. A little over a year ago I had been unemployed for a while after coming home from a European tour. It was difficult for me to imagine going back to a job and perpetual misery after such a life altering experience. Obviously I am grateful to have been given the chance to even go on such an endeavor, but it changed me greatly and made the bitter become acrid when it came to the monotony of life. But after quite a few months the realism was either I find employment or go live in the woods somewhere. Like most people, I thought of it as a temporary bandage to help me get back on my feet until the next rock n' roll adventure arrived just around the river bend. Then I would ask the grinning bobcat why he grins. Then I would sing with all the voices of the mountain and paint with all the colors of the wind. Sorry, let me get back to being cereal. ("Serious" to the South Park layperson.) But alas, it has been since last February since my last even mild rock n'roll adventures. And money of course is always a factor; need to make money in order to fund the rock n' roll fantasy. I have no van, few able or willing musical companions and am left with only shitty gear and decent ability. None of that adds up to being a functional, self-sufficient musician. But what are we to do us dreamers of dreams? Jerk off and eat at Wendy's until the end of time? I accepted long ago that I was always going to poor, but I wanted my life to be enriched with experience. And the past year I fear I have been letting myself down. And that's okay, sometimes we trip up along the way. It's just important that we are able to recognize the faulty choices we make and eliminate them from our lives.

This is me whenever I
reflect upon my life.
But I am trying to stay motivated to dig myself out of the capitalist grave I have dug for myself. I decided over the weekend that I was going to record a 5 song EP for Ruined. I have had a few songs for a very long time that I never had the chance to decently record and I felt that I really need to get some actual tangible music out to the gloom masses. I recorded all the music yesterday and hope to get started on vocals today if I can get some of the rough mixes done. The fact that it has taken this long to even record these songs is yet another nail in the coffin of disappointment that I have for myself but fuck it, better late then never I suppose. I was going to hold out and just shoot for a full length, but these songs come from a different chapter in my life. I still think they are important to be released, but I am not where I was then. But I often times look to the past to keep me present. Like whenever I am unhappy I like to look back and thing "Remember when you lived in a frigid basement with only mice as companions and feces for sustenance?" That really makes me appreciate living in arctic tundra conditions but with cats as companions. I am really hoping to get some support for this release so it can help me start acquiring essentials that I have mentioned like a new bass, a tour van, a reason to live. You know, shit like that. None of this post is very entertaining and I apologize for that, I guess I am feeling a little macabre. Here, let me lighten the mood with a story from my boyhood.

Unrelated, but I have been hearing a shitload about 
this band Chelsea Wolfe. I was listening to this record
while I was writing this. It's pretty good but I think
it will grow on me more. 

That's me in the back there.
Probably the last smile of my innocence.
One Halloween, actually several Halloweens I dressed as a Pepsi can. My mom made this really coo costume and I wore it for as many years as I could before my stupid maggot body pulsated and grew too large to fit inside of my carbonated uniform. I guess I am still angry about outgrowing that costume, I would probably still be wearing it right now. Covered in mustard stains and ejaculate, what a sad state I would be in but hey at least I would still have my innocence. Anywho! In 5th grade I wore my costume to school and I must say it's probably the one time in my life that I felt pretty coo. Everyone else had some cool costumes but there was no denying that mine was totally the coo-est. A quick side story; during that time we were learning about how plants grew. So we all had planted a soybean into Styrofoam cups with our names on them with dirt and we were responsible for watering them and taking care of them. Well that Halloween, Kerry King had other plans for me. I was dressed in my big happy fun time Pepsi can costume and I happened to see one of my friends outside the window where the plants were basking. I ran to the window out of excitement for them to see me in my super coo costume. Unfortunately the apparel I was adorning was beyond my 5th grade skill of depth perception. I accidentally knocked almost every plant in the classroom over, destroying the progress we had all made and thereby setting the tone for the rest of my life. Everyone in the class didn't talk to me the rest of the day and I ducked my head into my soda can carapace and cried quietly as to not ruin anything else until I got to go home. I think the hatred I have received and my identity as "That Guy Who Ruins Happiness For Everyone Else" could be traced back to that very moment. So there, that's my super funny lighthearted story from my childhood! YAY!!!! Have a great day everyone!

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Nu Metal Isn't Dead, It Just Went Underground, Bass Pace

This is me on one of my kicks.
Do you ever get in music moods? Of course you do! Isn't it fun? I love being really into a band for a chapter of time. Often times I will hear a song and it will take me back to a season in my life or sometimes to a precise moment. I really hate it when I am not on a band or album kick. Recently I came off of another hard Jesu kick. Was listening to that shit day and night for probably about a week straight. Before that it was Envy, and then I had a wicked A Perfect Circle addiction for quite a while. Usually I can find a pretty good flow and each kick will crash into the next batch of music waiting on the horizon. But every now and then I find myself in the dead water of my musical disposition. I hate that shit. One minute I will be opening the pit up on a band's entire catalog of music and the next minute I have no idea what the fuck I want to listen to. I find myself lost in the miasma that I call my life. Luckily I just swam out of that static lagoon and am facing the opposite problem. I am on a few kicks right now. I cannot listen to enough Rammstein and System of a Down right now. I am facing the problem of which band to listen to when. They are both so fucking good.   Dream band: Vegan Straight Edge Nu Metal Band. Every show we would play our set, and at the end we would unleash entire hives of bees upon the audience. Call ourselves Winnie The Doom Bear and The Honey Hell Hammers. With our debut platinum record "Honey: That Shit Ain't Vegan Get The Fuck Over It. Sweeten That Shit With Cane Sugar Or Just Fuck Right Off Already." Can we please talk more about Nu Metal bands?
It would go something like this.

"Christian punk huh? Cool...yeah right"
As you all know, I am a level 666, corpse belt certified Maggot. I listened to Nu Metal all day today at work and fuck I had such a good time. Of course it was ruined when about 60 Christian "punks?" walked through the door. What do you call these people? It's like a while back when I found a Christian "witch" on the internet. Listen, either be a damn witch, or be a fucking Christian. Pick one. When I reached the fork in the road of "Be A Respectable Human Being" or "Be A Fucking Pit Warrior" I weighed my options and windmilled my way into history. It's just that simple. I think there are other identities that can overlap, but being a pagan mystic who summons imps for a blood orgy while listening to Godsmack cannot also break bread with Johnny McChrist-Crotch over a Sunday penance of taint flogging. I hate segregating within a scene or really anywhere but man that shit is annoying. Such a vexing paradox. It saddens me that people can be exposed to so much thought provoking music and experience such uplifting activities like D.I.Y. punk shows and still get bogged down by that garbage. What a boring life that would be. As Nietzche said, "In heaven, all the interesting people are missing."

This is what I want to
do to my current bass.
Total piece of shit.
Speaking of being boring, I have some news on the Ruined front and a few new ideas I am kicking around the office. Firstly, I put a new bass on layaway yesterday. It has been 9 years since I bought my last bass, and this thing is a decent bass if I was in a middle school Nu Metal band. (To any middle school Nu Metal bands reading this blog, please contact me I am VERY interested in joining your band and playing your friend's mom's basement sometime.) But the time has come to finally get a bass that will be great to have for the next few decades. The unfortunate thing is I have a lot of payments to make on it and it will be several months before I actually get my hands on it. And I am deciding if I should keep recording music with this piece of shit that buzzes all the time, or if I should wait until I can get the new bass. But, I was also thinking about possibly recording some music in order to help raise some funds towards the new bass. I know probably only 10 people would buy a record that I put out but hey, every dollar would help. I'm not sure what I will end up doing, I also want to start thinking about live shows so I got a lot of shit to sort out. Do I put out shitty buzzy recordings and play mediocre sounding live shows to help expedite the new basses arrival? Or do I just sit in limbo for several months, waiting for my new gloom weapon to arrive? Please give me some input, I don't know what's cool. Maggot out. 

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Shit FM, Analog Annotation, Mailbox Massacre

Fuck, music used to be so fucking cool.
I had the unfortunate privilege of listening to a modern "alternative rock" station earlier this week. At first I was actually enjoying myself since they were playing a few songs that might be considered oldies at this point. Heard some Tool, Green Day and even some good Metallica. But only moments later I heard bands like Pop Evil, Theory of a Dead Man, and fucking Aerosmith. Now I pretty much hate Aerosmith, but I can get down on some AC/DC once in a while and of course Led Zeppelin is usually a treat. But I don't listen to a fucking "alternative rock" station to listen to those bands. But to be fair the bastardized primordial alluvium that was once music is far worst than any of these classic rock bands. First of all, it blows my mind that bands that were shitty in 2004 are still touring and selling millions of records everyday. Pop Evil? Come the fuck on people. I have said this many times, but for the most part I believe in "To each their own." I normally would not even critique anyone's musical choices, but there is a line. You all know what I speak of. Once that line is crossed, you just find yourself among a whole new species of humanity. I know what demographic they are trying to appeal to: Imbecilic, hedonistic froth from the carrion depths of contemporary aestheticism. They are basically congealed piles of misogynist intuition and Bud Light. You know, frat guys. You see, frat guys don't have time to develop strong musical backbones and dynamic systems of inspiration. They are far too busy stroking one another's egos and carrying out the genetic imperatives that their fucked up fathers "bestowed" upon them. I am convinced that all problems can be traced back to a man. Even bad music, bad taste and bad moral compasses. Fuck men. Not sure how I went from Aersosmith sucks to fuck patriarchy but hey, fuck it do it live.

This is how I picture most men. They are
like the shit demon from Dogma. 
Old thoughts from a dying memory.
The days of my life.
Otherwise I got up early today and I right away journeyed down into the catacombs of my basement. Or for those of you who don't know, the ancient dwelling of yours truly. As I traversed the piles of garbage and battled the now conscious box of Beanie Babies, I eventually found my way to the dungeon that was once my sanctuary. As much as it sucked sleeping in a freezing basement and having only mice as companionship, I almost miss the person I was at those times. I went down there specifically to find my journal. I recently decided to start keeping a journal again but I wanted to transpose the last few entries of my handwritten journal onto the journal I keep on my computer. I had not made an entry since February of this year which saddened me. I have been using this blog as a kind of journal over the past year, but for the most part I don't do much self reflection nor contemplation on here. I think it's important to have private thoughts and to document them if for no other reason then to see how much you have grown or failed to grow. And in many ways I think I am in a much better place since my last entry but I also used to read far more often and just try and learn as much as I could. Now I just jerk off stale-fish and find it hard to question my current path. Because I know if I truly reflected upon it, I would probably feel horribly disappointed and trapped.

I searched "stop sign humping"
and I found this. I like Green Day
and Macbeth shoes so hey. Whatever.
Speaking of being horribly disappointed, I have some news on the Ruined front. I have finally finished the songs I am doing for a split with my good friend Monte. My side is about a total of 12 minutes and I have been listening to it while I write this. And I must say, I am feeling pretty good about the way it turned out. I know that I am no recording wizard, in fact I am about as capable as a wet carrot in that department, but for a clueless idiot maggot like me I think it turned out okay. I am expecting to be able to put the digital version up for download in the next week or so with some limited physical copies made available shortly thereafter. This is actually my first time putting out music basically by myself so I am excited but nervous about it. I hope that I won't fuck it up. But I already have some plans for another release on the horizon and now that I am done with the songs I have been working on I feel as though I should get started on some new shit today. It could be the 3 cups of coffee but I feel this sense of urgency so I think that would be a good outlet for that. Otherwise I could always go hump a stop sign or fight a mailbox. Me: "What did you say to me mailbox!?" Mailbox: "........." Me: "I will fuck you up man, every heard of the Conklin Crusher?! That was me all day baby!" Mailbox: "...................Fuck Conklin..." Me: "OH FUCK NO YOU DIDN'T!!!" I would be found hours later in a ditch with wounds consistent with mailbox violence and a Times magazine up my ass. The coroner would also note heavy chaffing in the groin area with traces of red and white street sign paint on my pants. Alright I think that's enough for now.