Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Death to false metal, pt. 1:

Dimmu Borgir – What kind of asshole names their band after a stupid hill in Iceland anyway? "Oh hey dudes you should check out my new band, we're called Tungnafellsjokul that's totally grym right". This band is nothing more than some dude totally raping this parents' cat because he couldn't whack off (his hands were all bloody from “hardout shredding”). And you KNOW they probably have songs about Lord of the Rings. Seriously, check the mustache. Mustaches never lie:

"I'm gonna finger the SHIT out of that cat"

For some reason heaps of fat goth girl-dudes seem to rock Dimmu Borgir tshirts. I can think of only two possible explanations:

(a) they think they have better chances with guys that will obviously root cats, or
(b) Dimmu Borgir tshirts go up to size XXXXXXXL.

If we're being honest with ourselves, it's actually (b).

'Melodic' metal can eat a few thousand dicks. Think about it this way - Bolt Thrower = cool. Playing the an Orchestra = lame, unless you're Cypress Hill (or a classical musician, but that should go without saying...). So, Dimmu Borgir fails - they're not Bolt Thrower or Cypress Hill, they're just a bunch of dudes wearing facepaint who probably root cats and fat girls


From left to right: Really fucking scared of some shit, disapproving, homosexual glad-eyes (back), the pain of penetration (front), probably think's he's a snake, and that weird bitch off the Ring.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Thought Creature (REVIEW)

There was an All Ages Thought Creature show at the Otautahi Social Centre:

(photos by Chris Andrews - thebigcity.co.nz)

First up, OSC is pretty much my favourite venue in CHCH - total DIY vibes, and you don't feel like some greasy mustached pedo for showing up to an all ages show. The first band, Rufffians, were kind of average - 'noise/art' rock kind of thing, with MP3 player-based backing tracks. Sounded like equipment was malfunctioning, in a "we're inexperienced with our shit" way, rather than a Man Is The Bastard fuck-the-crowd ear-rape kinda way. Warble and the Shocking and Stunning Statement were better, playing experimental post-rock droney type shit. It's seriously weird that 'under 18' bands are playing this sort of music. I would say that Thought Creature are the best new live band I've seen in a while - I got Jim Morrison-esque vocals (re: reverb) on top of one of the tightest rhythm sections in a while, with some sweet rock 'n roll lead over the top. There were technical difficulties (PA was a bit fucked), but aside from that, everything went well. Overall - surprised by new bands.

There was an R18 show afterwards at Als Bar, with support from Tiger Tones and Frase+Bri. Everyone has seen these bands like 23 times anyway, so there's no point in further detail. 'Modern' pop-electro-whatever - nothing new/special imho (that's not to say they're not good at what they do... Check myspace if you really care. I'm almost certain that every city in the world probably has the same sort of bands - there's probably even central database where they share songs or some shit. Sitting outside I heard "but how do you quantify authenticity?", and then left halfway through Thought Creature. They were just as good the second time, but y'know. [/stereotypical disconnected hater review]

I walked home listening to Poison Idea and some fat girl came up all like "oh you can't hear because of headphones blah blah blah I couldn't get into Shooters my night was so crap blah blah blah" and then tried to make out with me. It was wierd. $10 dozen Flames + no sleep.

Top 20 US Hardcore Albums

Fact Magazine tells us that hardcore is popular again, thanks to some history books, and bands like Fucked Up, Sex/Vid and Pissed Jeans getting 'noticed' by the indie crowd. Fucked Up vocalist Pink Eyes doesn't see it this way -"we're not the saviors of hardcore. We just made it safe for indie rockers. The H100's saved hardcore.", but whatever. Sidenote - throwing hammers to save hardcore is a noble task. In the article, Fact goes on to list the 20 best hardcore albums - maybe as education for everyone ready to be "DOWN WITH THE 'CORE!!`1!" now that it's officially cool? Anyway, the point is that this list could be a lot worse - there's no denying it features some crucial as fuck records, especially with reference to '80s hardcore. However, it could also be a whole bunch better. How? A few minor suggestions.

#1 - Black Flag should be No. 1 on the list. Why? Because Black Flag is always number one. Black Flag forms the fuckin' paradigm of hardcore in the minds of millions of people, and anyone who thinks that the Germs are better, well their parents probably drank paint thinner while pregnant or some shit.

#2 - If you can have Eyehategod on a list of hardcore bands, then Dystopia qualify too. Dystopia's Human = Garbage went so much further down the raw, fuck-my-life anguish path cut by bands like Void and Negative Approach, and so automatically takes the place of Take as Needed.... For me, one of the best measures of a good 'hardcore' band is how quickly they can clear out a room of hippies on acid, and there is no band better for "harshing some mellows". Neurosis are in almost the same boat, as in: probably don't qualify, but if they do, automatically replace Eyehategod.

#3 - Botch should be somewhere on this list - mathcore pioneers who never make you be all like "hey, that widdly bit they just played sounds retarded, these douchebags are just showing off". Would we have bands like Converge, Dillinger Escape Plan etc without Botch? Probably, but they'd most likely be horrible posi youth-crew bands. (Well maybe not, I'm just being dramatic, what a fucking horrible thought though...)

#4 I'm pretty sure there was a hardcore scene in Boston and New York at some stage. I'm not even going to get into this right now.

#5 List lacks powerviolence. I mean even if you're going to ignore the absolute rawness and desperation of bands like Man is the Bastard, No Comment and Crossed Out, Charles Bronson or Spazz should make this list for their retardedly awesome lyrics and use of vocal samples. Plus, even God knows they're both better than fucking Heroin. Maybe the fact that "it's cool to be into hardcore now" will mean a renewed interest in hardcore scenes and bands around the world, but in the words of St. Mark McCoy, what the fuck are these people going to do when it's cool to think for yourself?

P.S: Turns out the guy that wrote the article is a techno DJ or some shit.

I'm sure every asshole out there has their own suggestions on how the original Fact list could be improved. Add them below.

Monday, September 22, 2008


Elections are coming up! Politics! A totally exciting chance to choose which group of rich white dudes is going to control the country and inevitably fuck things up. There are only two good things about elections. The first is the inevitable scandal involving some MP's bizarre sexual practices. Predicting this prior to it's media explosion is a bit like playing Cluedo, and this year I'm totally picking Gerry Brownlee in the public toilets with the small boy. I'm pretty sure the UN said you're allowed to be racist to Catholics.

Anyway, second only good thing about elections is getting to fuck with the metric fuck-tonne of signage which seems to appear from nowhere. Finally, pockets corrupted by ink because you were too drunk off Country cask wine to put the cap back on a pen after drawing dicks/quoting DH Lawrence on public toilet walls will be avenged. There's even an established scoring system, so (just like everything else) you can now compete against your foetal-alcohol suffering peers at destroying a whole bunch of shit. You should pretty much be shouting (or at least thinking) 'uP tHe PuNx!!' while touching your destructo-boner right now. Anyway, the scores work like:

+1 point for every small sign stashed under your bed;
+2 points for every cock, Hitler 'stache and crudely drawn set of tits applied;
+3 for every billboard;
+10 for wheatpasting the face of Antonie Dixon over local candidates pictures;

+10,000 points for fingerbanging any candidate and pasting photos all around town;
-100 points for being an asshole and actually trying to write some 'meaningful' political message on a billboard.

As a prize to whoever ends up with the most points I am offering the fuckin' sweetest picture of a vampire sucking a dude off (for money) that I have ever seen. You are unlikely to ever again be offered such a good prize for drawing penises on things.

Oh and there's probably no point being all like "oh man but it's totally not cool and it's wrong to go doing some crimes and being a saboter" etc, because the standard Emile Cioran response will just get flopped out, I'll be all "Objectively, life is essentially meaningless, so watever do wat I want" and the argument will be over right then and there. You pretty much can't compete with the combined logic of Romanian nihilists and 14 year old girls throwing tantrums because their mum won't let them move in with their 23 year old boyfriend.


Sunday, September 21, 2008

The Religious Right, as Engineers of a Chokey Holocaust

People are always going on about the fact that violent video games and movies cause violence. Games like Grand Theft Auto, movies like Pulp Fiction and all that shit. I'm pretty sure there is actually no basis in psychology for this claim, but such details don't usually matter to the Family First types which tend to spout such bullshit.

But what I want to know is – have these people ever watched Matilda? I mean, if their point about violent movies influencing people is valid, then any fucking movie could influence us. And so watching Matilda, people could get all inspired to make a fully functioning Chokey, which is basically the most terrifying thought a person could have. The chokey is like 10,000x worse than beating an animated hooker to death and stealing all her animated money. I mean just look at that shit:


Holy fuck that is terrifying.

The same people that run campaigns against violent movies and games are the same ones that promote parents being allowed to beat their children. Based on this, and their ideas about how media stimuli influence us, there is a good change that some of these people have built cupboards filled with glass, nails and quite possibly medical waste, for the sole purpose of punishing children. The women pretty much look like Ms. Trunchbull too.

Friday, September 19, 2008

Fucked Up - The Chemistry of Common Life (REVIEW)


Fucked Up are a band that has gone from the obscurity of the underground hardcore punk scene into the spotlight of magazines like Vice and NME in a relatively short period of time. Strange, for a band that (as far as I can make out) has never had anything but a raging boner of hate for 'mainstream' fans - guitarist 10,000 Marbles (in Distort fanzine) “whenever we play shows I get that Black Flag vibe, where I'm feeling like I hate the audience and can't really understand what sequence of events brought me onto a stage to play music for whatever bunch of cretins has been assembled. So the more popular you get it seems, less is the ratio of people you respect, to people you wouldn't otherwise give the time of day”. But, I have this theory as to why the sudden popularity: they're really fucking good. The Chemistry of Common Life, the second full length release by Fucked Up, confirms this theory.

Formed in Toronto in 2001, Fucked Up have from the start been a band shrouded in mystery – releasing a steady stream (over 25 in total) of 7” and 12”, to an devoted underground following. Actual information on the band is thin, with Fucked Up having shunned the usual “Myspace and add the shit out of anyone and everyone” route for the path of ambiguity – a Wikipedia page, a blog and a string of interviews in punk and hardcore fanzines, often filled with mistruths and creative shit-talk. Live, the band is known for shows punctuated by nudity, blood streaming from vocalist Pink Eyes, and crowd destruction.

While markedly different from any previous Fucked Up releases, Chemistry strikes me a logical progression from Hidden World – the same driving hardcore, taken even further along the progressive and experimental path. Fucked Up introduce a range of elements not usually associated with underground hardcore– extended synth and piano-heavy intros shift effortlessly into pounding hardcore riffing. Take the first track on the album – the intro is some fuckin' pan flutes, which, without managing to sound contrived, shift to distorted mute-picking before singer Pink Eye's distinctive growl kicks in. This in itself should provide a good indication of the nature of this album – it's as if Poison Idea took too much acid, and spent a week listening to nothing but Television and the Buzzcocks (who am I kidding, Poison Idea probably did this all the fucking time, but whatever). Throughout the album, Mustard Gas and Mr. Jo hold down the rhythm section, with tasteful bass lines flowing over solid drum-beats in support of guitar riffs ranging from traditional three-chord hardcore to the more progressive The pace of Chemistry is overall more restrained than previous releases (especially early 7”s like Police and Litany). In spite of this, the power and urgency is not lost, as evidenced especially by tracks like Black Albino Bones.

Chemistry features a number of collaborations, notably the addition of female vocals from members of New York's Vivian Girls. The use of male/female vocal trade-offs continues on other tracks, and works well in providing contrast to Pink Eyes' pissed-off-and-fuck-the-world voice. Just like previous releases, Chemistry kills both lyrically and thematically, addressing a whole bunch of shit, from religion to chemical process. Best of all are the one liners, including “It's hard enough being born in the first place, who'd would want to be born again?”.

The end result is powerful, progressive and a little-bit-weird hardcore that reveals more of itself on every single listen – layer upon layer makes up The Chemistry of Common Life. Fucked Up are angry, intelligent, and catchy as hell, and the end result is one of the best releases of 2008.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Wu Tang (Lite)

As much as it hurts me to admit this, I'm not actually from the Shaolin Slums. But, in spite of this, I guess at some point in my life I'll probably find myself in a situation where I have to torture some dude. Or even be in a position to release a totally AUTHENTIC middle-class white-dude rap album. (Sage Francis if you steal this man I'm seriously going to be pissed off). Back to the main point here... TORTURE MUTHAFUCKA, YEAH, I FUCKEN, I'LL FUCKEN...

  • Fucken make you brush your teeth and then make you drink some orange juice**;

  • Force you to go out in public in some trackpants motherfucker;

  • I'll pay some kid on Myspace to remix your favourite band;

  • I'ma fucken tell all your friends I saw you goin' into a Streetwise Scarlet show man, and not just because you were trying to root some scene bitch, and they'll be all like "yo I herd you got the musical aids, don;t wanna hang out no more lol";

  • Make your ass drink instant coffee. Literally, your ass.

  • I'll drink your 1986 Cabernet Sauvignon and replace it with inferior cask wine.

  • I fucken cook you a three-course meal and over-salt the soup, ruining the whole experience and letting you the fuck down.

  • I will sprinkle pubic lice in your underwear drawer then tell everyone you're itching because of herpes.

  • I'll fucken put like some chip crumbs and some sand in your bed man, yeah lets see who's sleeping now muthafucker.

TORTURE MOTHERFUCKER. I accept no responsibility for any lives totally fucking ruined by the above methods.

**If anyone can come up with anything worse than this then I will seriously give you like $3 to never come near me.

the Outsiders, Media Club, Fri 12th September (REVIEW)

The year 2001 was pretty sweet I guess. I was 12, heard NOFX for the first time, and decided it was the best thing in my life up to that point. Even better than that time I pulled the world's smallest pocket-knife on some kid. This year was also the beginning of my descent into life as an elitist asshole teenager too, but whatever. The point is that pop punk was pretty popular back then. On Friday night I went to a pop-punk show, and felt twelve years old again. Turnout was pretty shit, but we are talking about Christchurch here. The bands played with energy, the songs were generic as fuck (seriously half could have been covers for all I know) and the socks were pulled up to the knees. And you know what? It fucking ruled. The Outsiders basically sound like Hot Water Music rimming the Bouncing Souls, but it totally worked, especially live. Total vibe-bringers.

As a footnote, “You're too fucken' drunk, either buy a beer or fuck off” is totally the sign of the worlds most awesomest venue owner.

The only shit thing about the whole night was that the woman at BP wouldn't take $5.00 to tell everyone who came in saying they'd just been “going hardout as doing some sweet rock moves, 'throwing up goats' and/or moshing” at Disturbed that they now had musical fucking AIDS and would die soon. I can only assume she wouldn't take the money because she was willing to do it for free.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Hipster How-To

by MANTON (he is a total dude).

Let's face it: you are not hip enough. You're probably sick of walking into trendy clubs only to be ignored by everyone. Or worse, not even being allowed in. There's a whole scene of kids who are not fitting in, and you're not a part of it. Fear no more: with this exclusive guide to being hip, you too can be a trendy non-conformist!

Clothes. Start with the essentials. Every hipster's wardrobe needs:

Tight jeans, preferably a women's cut. Guys take note: the women's jeans are the ones which squish your testes and have little useless pockets.

Several T-shirts. They could be "ironic", which is a hipster code for "rubbish that no-one would willingly wear otherwise". Acceptable themes for these could be: obscure post-punk/no-wave/noise bands, Midwestern petrol stations or "Vote for Pedro". Acceptable colours are white, pink, neon-green, yellow.

A jacket. You could ask your parents to buy you a leather jacket. If they try to ruin your dreams of hipsterdom with their usual "maybe when you're not failing art school any more" talk, head straight to the thrift shop. Guys: buy the most old-man suit jacket you can find in your choice of grey, brown, chequered or tweed. Girls: buy something 1980s with shoulder-pads and large plastic buttons.

A hat. Guys, find a trilby that
does not match your jacket. I cannot stress this enough: if you co-ordinate your outfit, it ruins the whole effect. Girls: a floppy beret in your choice of colour, but again it must not match your jacket.

Shoes: if in doubt, Chuck Taylors go with anything, especially suits. If you want to take it to the next level, replace the laces with a non-standard colour.

Accessories & flair. You'll need something "retro" or "funky". Ironic (i.e.: completely rubbish) badges are a highly prized way of accessorising. Large sunglasses with plastic frames or spectacles with thick black frames. A messenger bag that was made before Nirvana became popular. Roll-yer-own cigarettes. A khaffiyeh, which is one of those "Palestinian scarves" - don't worry, no-one is going to mistake you for a politically-conscious student, it ain't 2001.

Your hair-cut can be some kind of mop-top, something with a fringe or generally anything bohemian. Guys also have the option of growing an "ironic" moustache or three-day stubble.

If you're having trouble, just get the latest issue of Vice, leaf through the fashion pages and find similar items in a thrift shop. You'll know when you found the right gear because it will look rubbish, but cost a lot more than anything else in the shop.

Now you got your wardrobe sorted - time to turn your attention to the rest of the room. Cover the walls with posters. Acceptable choices are: independent film posters, photocopied gig flyers from indie bands and "ironic" posters. Photographs are acceptable, but they absolutely must be either over-exposed, out-of-focus or cut off the subject at the head.

Now that we mentioned photographs, you need several cameras. They do not need to work, their mere presence in your room is enough. The most-prized hipster cameras are 35mm silver-body types with brown leather cases (or anything that uses film stock which is no longer made). Display these prominently.

Next, head down to the furniture store. You'r
e after kitschy furniture that was made between the time the Beatles started going really weird and Sonic Youth becoming widely known (i.e. roughly 1970-1989). If in doubt, ask yourself: "would Stanley Kubrick use this furniture for one of his sets?" You're after strange colour combinations, rounded shapes or polka-dots.

Generally, think of yourself as a human magpie. Collect various mismatched shiny, interesting, weird and "ironic" items. Toys from your childhood are good. Toys that were made before you were even born are better. If in doubt, turn to Vice and see what kind of weird crap they have in their weird crap section.

Now you look the part - congratulations, you're on your way of mixing with other hipsters! There are only a few simple rules to follow:

Never use plain language. Try to fit art-school jargon into any conversation, even if you're just going to the shops for bread and milk. Practice speaking like Derrida in front of a mirror. Slip words like "postmodern" and "deconstruction" into your conversations. Never use an English word when there's a French word that'll suit the purpose.

If you don't like anything, call it "boring". Examples of "boring" can include petrol prices, doing any kind of work, doing any kind of study and people who are not hipsters. Denounce modern art as "boring".

This brings us to the next point. Cultivate a
deep and abiding cynicism. Learn how and when to employ a sardonic smile and be all like "oh, that's very interesting" while stifling a yawn. In particular, direct your cynicism towards things that excite your peers. Stop liking bands as soon as they become popular. If it's not in you to be incredibly conceited and to just know that you're hipper than everyone else on the planet, then stop reading now.

Frequent indie bands' shows. You will know if a band
is really indie when there is an audience of hipsters standing around and looking in their shoes while swaying side-to-side in a zombie-like fashion with sardonic smiles on their faces. If the band sounds like Sonic Youth would have sounded about 20 years ago, you're right on the money. The band would either be one-two people with whole bunch of synths, or a alternative-rock four-piece. You will know band sucks when everyone is just standing around with the same sardonic smiles, but with their arms folded, looking straight at the performers and not swaying. The detail counts. Owning an electtic guitar is optional, but if so, it cannot be anything except an old Strat copy.

Go to every art gallery opening you can so you can, barely glance at the art and spend the evening schmoozing with other hipsters and drinking the free wine. M
ake sure you own at least one item of clothing with paint splatters, a few canvases and some half-squeezed tubes of oil paint. Most of your actual art should be either: stencils (overspray, underspray or runs are mandatory), collages/zines or photography (as described above) and definitely "ironic".

By all means avoid any kind of proletarian accoutrements, unless they are "ironic".

And never, ever actually
call yourself a hipster.

UPDATE: Google says this is a hipster. Redemption? No. Google is wrong.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008


A study came out a few weeks ago, which confirms that people's personality tends to relate to the type of music which they listen to most. The study was in all likelyhood conducted by the same totally bad-ass, hard hitting and relevant group that gave us last years groundbreaking “Men with attractive partners want more sex” conclusion, but this is irrelevant. Building on this study with by asking approximately none of the 36,000 people originally surveyed and instead just adding my own opinion, it has become increasingly clear that peoples lifestyle's are also dictated by the music form which they listen to / identify with. Every single person who listens to a genre of music is the same. It's SCIENCE. Here I present my research, which expands from music preferences giving clues to personality, towards specifics.

Indie: You drink coffee from trendy cafes, live (or want to live) in a central city loft apartment, use words like “authentic” and “postmodern” pretty much every day, hate on bands you previously liked if they gain an ounce of popularity. No matter how hard you pretend, Nu Rave is your fault. So are the Arctic Monkeys.

Punk: You wear patches saying shit like "Upping the punx, smash teh state, anarky and chaos in the UK oi oi". On your $120 sweatshop 'punk pants'. And sell the front door to your squat to buy glue to sniff, or some homebrew ethanol.

Classical: You're old, or want to root old dudes (classy old dudes, not like Southern Blues Bar old dudes) (Women can be dudes too, stop being sexist). Or you're one of those weirdo band kids that got forced to play clarinet by their parents and never had the balls (Women can have balls too, stop being sexist) to be all like “go eat a bag of dicks, I just wanna play Sega and listen to Hanson”

RnB: You're a female commerce student who goes to Shooters every night. Even when it's closed. Figure that one out.

Rap Music: You're an asshole. You're white, and you wear a sweatband halfway up your arm. You contemplated getting corn-rows at some stage in your life

'Twisted' Metal: You think that “uhwaahahaha” is some straight up lyrical 'genious' shit. Probably have dreadlocks and think that Maynard isn't a total douchebag. If you don't have a can of Woodstock 8% in your hand, it's because you spent all your money on meth and now have to save up for a shitload of dental work.

'Trve' Metal: Total asshole. You wear boots all the time, and would be totally down with Nazi shit if it didn't mean your skinny white ass would get pounded on a regular basis. You're a total elitist and will actually try and kill some one with your gaze alone for not being faniliar with Insect Warfare's Endless Execution Through Violent Restitution.

"Rock Music": Just like sinking heaps and being the man, basically. While listening to Shihad and thinking it's totally sweet and original, bro.

What gives me the right to pidgeonhole everyone like that? It's not like I have any authority on the matter, right? Wrong. I am a scientist. This is science, so you can't really argue. Want some evidence? It's... in the bible or some shit.

For some reason, we really like to judge people, based on whatever characteristic. Pretty much every other form of judgment based on one single aspect of a person's life is off limits now, so scientists (read: me. I am a scientist) have turned to music. Next, groundbreaking research will show that people that prefer McDonalds to cooking at home are generally lazier, and people who work in sales are more outgoing. Does it matter? Will you use this research in everyday life? This is not helpful. Money would be better spent on researching which alcohol preference makes you more likely to sleep with losers. At least you can sell that sort of research. And spend the money on something worthwhile. Like a supercomputer.

Monday, September 8, 2008

Please sir, do not step on my Nike Jordans.

Is Nelly the (possibly retarded) love child of Imelda Marcos and Glenn Danzig?
Photobucket Image Hosting
Yes, yes he is.