Friday, November 30, 2007
Gather 'round la computadora, numbskulls... It's an important damn day here at the Belly. Today's yack-session went down with the one and only bulldozer of a bruiser, and quite a witty gentleman to boot... Greg Puciato, the throatrazor of Dillinger Escape Plan. Seeing as he needs absolutely no introduction, I won't hold you up anymore from gettin' your fill... Read on, you jerks:
Belly Full of Hell: When did you first realize you were one of the raddest frontmen to ever throat-punch an audience's nervous system?
Greg Puciato: Hahaha are you sure this is the right person? I dunno man I just do what I do and if other people dig it, so be it. I try not to think too much onstage which usually ends up with me not having any idea what happened til I see a video on youtube and I'm like whoa I did that? That's pretty fucking scary haha. Usually when we play people either love me or wanna fight me so I must be doing something right.
BFoH: Can you clue us in to how the changing of the guard went down when Dimitri left and you stepped in to fulfill vicious mic duties?
GP: It was actually so fast that I didn't even have time to process it. I auditioned twice in August 2001, and then after the second time we played our first show two weeks later, and from then on pretty much toured endlessly for five years. I didn't even have time to digest anything until like January 2006 and by then my life was so completely different and I felt like I had gone through a time warp. Nothing happened for 5 years except for endless touring and writing and then when we stopped it was like slamming into a wall after being shot out of a cannon. Needless to say I had a mild meltdown of sorts over the year of 2006 but feel totally comfortable with everything in my life and in DEP now, which is a good thing.
BFoH: Your spin on 999's "Homicide" was quite a powerful track in itself... Is there any chance of future work with Error, or is that now a defunct project?
GP: We always talk about doing it but Atticus is pretty busy working with Trent on NIN music, so if it happens it happens but we aren't really pressing the issue either. As far as side project stuff goes, 90% of my time and energy goes into Dillinger but I have written a lot of other stuff I would like to get out, I will probably put out some side project stuff over the next couple of years, me and John from Candiria are definitely going to get an album out in 2008 under the moniker Spylacopa, we already have it recorded we're just sitting on it til the DEP wave from Ire Works passes.
BFoH: Any rhyme or reason to the choices of covers selected for the Plagiarism EP? Cuz they go pretty stunningly all the way across the board...
GP: Eh, three of them were songs we had played live at various points, and the soundgarden song we just did because we love that band and that song. I would actually love to construct a huge stone statue of Kim Thayil and just put it on stage the way Maiden has Eddie. Just a huge bearded wizard looking guy behind us onstage with walls of feedback coming out of his guitar in between songs. Kim Thayil, come be our mascot.
BFoH: We're pretty hereditarily emaciated-looking here at Belly Full of Hell... are there any tricks of the trade to get slightly as massively powerviolence as you? ... Sometimes we try push-ups... but only sometimes.
GP: Hahaha I am definitely referring to my appearance as "powerviolence" from now on. I dunno man. I try to act like I don't do anything but honestly I am pretty compulsive about working out, it really has nothing to do with trying to look a certain way, its just something that I do to release energy really, and it helps me channel a lot of weird discipline and energy into something.
BFoH: At the Every Time I Die/Poison the Well show two weeks ago, Keith called you on stage to split vocals with him (which was like a religious experience), stating "without Dillinger Escape Plan, our band would not exist" ... Can you let us know how you really (imagine 'really' in italics) feel about those Shitty Dudes in ETID?
GP: Those dudes are the shittiest dudes on earth. Honestly though we love them. They are all good friends of ours and have been for a long time. It was cool playing a song onstage with friends that wasn't a DEP song. Felt completely different than being onstage with DEP. Mindset was totally different.
BFoH: Are you able to divulge at all into Chris's parting ways with DEP to get his prog on? ... or is that all behind-closed-doors kinda stuff?
GP: I mean honestly that Chris situation was going on for a loooong time, it just reached a boiling point and the Coheed offer came along and kinda presented itself as a liferaft/escape vessel of sorts to him at the right time. Worked out for the best for everyone I think, thats sort of how things tend to go. We took a shit situation and reversed it and now we are definitely in the best place we've been in a long time.
BFoH: What was Dillinger's plan of attack by releasing Ire Works in its entirety on your myspace page so far in advance of the release date? ... We're you just itching to get it out there, or did you just know it was that incredible and didn't need to be hidden away 'til Nov. 13th?
GP: We are stupid. Thats the answer. I dunno, it wasn't my idea, I didn't wanna stream it at all. I just woke up one day and there it was. Really what it all comes down to is myspace wanted to put us on their front page thingy but wouldn't do it unless we streamed the record. So we sold our soul for about 2000 more "friends" haha.
BFoH: Some of the songs on Ire Works stray pretty far from the shit usually associated with you guys. Take Black Bubblegum and Sick on Sunday, for example. What influenced you all to take a different approach to some of the songwriting this time around? Did you just want to put a little more booty-shake into some of it?
GP: We listen to so much music and most of it isn't heavy at all in the traditional sense. Most of what I listen to is emotionally heavy in some regard to me personally whether it is considered "heavy" music or whatever. We really don't wanna have any confines or restraints in this band, and the only way we can ensure that people won't be able to do that to us is to exercise our ability to do whatever we want at any time to keep people on their toes.
BFoH: Milk Lizard is fucking awesome. I love how some of that sleazy rock swagger made it into some of the tracks. What were you guys listening to while writing the new record? Was whiskey involved?
GP: I was listening to a lot of shit like super old Aerosmith from when they were almost walking death from drugs, old Rolling Stones when Jagger was higher than a fucking kite barely breathing onstage, Melvins, Jesus Lizard, and that stuff definitely crept into my vocal approach and inflection at times.
BFoH: Whatcha jammin' lately?
GP: Really nothing cause we have been practicing constantly and when we aren't I have been trying to spend all my time with my girlfriend and friends and family because I won't see much of them for the next year.
BFoH: Can you shed a little light on a rumor we heard around the water cooler earlier: I see you guys are going to be having your album release party at Europa in Brooklyn next week... will there be any secret live performance by you fellas?
GP: Shit! I'm late! Guess this question is irrelevant now. I didn't go to that shit anyway haha.
BFoH: Is the band taking all precautions necessary to fight off MRSA?
GP: I've got it and I plan on spreading it across the US on our tour. Everytime somebody thinks its cool that they got the mic, they aren't gonna think so when they have the chills and the shits a few days later.
BFoH: If you could play one show with any band of your choosing, still around or long gone, and then hang out with them at a strip club all night, which band would you want by your side?
GP: Fuuuuuck. This question is insanely hard. Who would have the best time afterwards....Guns N Roses like 1988? Or like late 60's Stones or Mid 70's Aerosmith. You know those dudes went off. Maybe 1987 Metallica so I could try to warn them of the perils of Bob Rock. I dunno. But the real issue is who would go off the most at a strip club. Gotta be Steven Adler from like 1988 era Guns. I pick him actually any era. Even now post-stroke. There you go. Adler over anyone, anytime. That guy partied so hard he got kicked out of Guns at the height of their debauchery, that's some serious shit.
BFoH: Let's say you guys got trapped somewhere. Would YOU have an escape plan?
GP: Me and Ben got trapped in some psycho chick's apartment once and she literally got real psychotic and tried to lock us in while some other guy was in the living room beating his head into the wall over and over. When the chick went to the bathroom we had to climb out the window and run down the fire escape because the scene was so weird that we were actually scared haha.
BFoH: And last, but not least... The most important question... What does it feel like to run on peoples' faces?
GP: Like a lawsuit ready to happen. Then it does happen. And it sucks. They can't win because I'm broke but they just drag me through endless hours of court and paperwork 'til they realize that suing me is basically like trying to get a 95 year old woman's clam wet. Not happening. Haven't tried, but you can IMAGINE WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE IF YOU DID. Dustbowl city.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Bruisers, you are sooo damn lucky I am in such a gnar-generous mood today... Or maybe your just lucky cuz I'm an indecisive gnarbastard.
Anywho, I woke up this morning, and on the walk to the subway I really had an insatiable urge to just get dropped on by a two-ton slab of heaviness/goodness, and spinning the roulette wheel of my fightPod one golden name seemed to stab me in the retina while everything else faded back into oblivion... It was the only band that could do me justice with my said hunger... The one and only Melvins. So I got to work, knowing that I didn't yet post up the GnarVideo of the Week yesterday, and proceeded to try and track down one of my favorite videos as a youth: the pummelingly grim, x-ray heavy "Hooch" by the Melvins. But much to my dismay, all I could find was a clip of when the video was on Beavis and Butthead, and you could barely hear the song in the background with all the chatterboxing from those two animated numbskulls... So the search continued, until I was reminded of the two gems below. And honestly, I just couldn't decide which one to pick, so you fuckers are gonna get both of 'em jammed straight into your facehole! But seriousado, I love these two videos because they're kind of the same kind of concept [kind of]... Basically, put the Melvins somewhere in a live setting and have an unusual audience. Sounds simple right? But instead, the outcomes are incredibulldozer. "Honey Bucket" has them in a barn in the middle of nowhere playing to a bunch of sheep and asses ('asses' used here as slang for 'donkeys', not slang for 'hipsters'). And "Lizzy" has a wonderful audience of rough-and-tumble lesbians ready to cut you within an inch of your life [*rad]. So enjoy this week's helping of gnar, and be sure to watch out for my favorite moment in "Honey Bucket" (in the first five seconds or so, when the bassist appears to have been standing there, with his arms powerviolencely crossed, then gets his cue and dips straight into battlerock mode in zero seconds flat... glorious). So without further adieu...
Melvins - "Honey Bucket" (the one with the sheep)
Melvins - "Lizzy" (the one with the lesbians)
11.29.07 - Alright, you kids of the cloven hoof... Tonight holds another body-rockin' set to add onto your concert to-do list... The massive and mighty Clutch are gracing the Big Crapple with their magical presence! Tonight, at Roseland Ballroom, your friendly neighborhood elephant riders are gonna hit the stage running, and the audience of hundreds will spontaneously grow beards whether they like it or not. Prepare yourself for a festivus of facial hair, and check your shame at the door! So seriously, come on down and let's do some pelvic grooves while escaping from this prison planet. But on a serious note, sadly, Clutch is not the headliner tonight... The drummer-stealing Coheed and Cambria are holding court, which means it will be yet another show where I leave after an opener... sigh... But maybe Bonseaw will handle the covering of that part of the night, since I will most likely be inhaling dead flies and cigarette butts, passed-out face-down on the tile bathroom floor, in a ripped GG Allin tshirt, in some dive by the time they finish their set... Why, you ask? Cuz obviously Clutch demands that I rage... Since I have the body of John Wilkes Booth... Now get to bookin'.
Clutch - "Burning Beard"
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
I'm getting really sick and tired of hearing when this shit happens... I can't even count how many times I've seen bulletins on 'spyspace, blogs around the netterweb, posts on band websites, etc, telling me about how a band's equipment has all been stolen, or portions of it, or all their shit in the van, or whatever. I dunno, it just makes me wanna fuckin pummel everything around me to think about a band who is taking themselves out on the road, getting next to nothing back from it (monetarily), just so they can get their creativity out to us and simply let us rock out with them, then some fuckshitasshole waste-of-skin gets the brilliant idea to take all their belongings and/or gear, the shit they owned, earned, and worked for. It's just really sad, we are such a miserable species. So here is the direct quote about what has happened:
"The Locust's van was broken into and robbed in St Louis over the weekend at a grocery store after the show. Many valuable items were stolen (COMPUTERS, IPODS, CASH, PASSPORTS, RENT MONEY, ETC) and the loss has been devastating to the band. The bands insurance does not cover theft so the loss is on The Locust. Three One G has set up a way to donate to the band if you are interested. Click this link to make a donation!!! Thanks so much."
Please click here to help the fellas out:
The Locust Relief Fund
Sunday, November 25, 2007
As some of you may know, Whitechapel guitarist Brandon Cagle was in a motorcycle accident last April and injured his arm pretty severely. Because of this, he is going to have to go on hiatus while Zach Householder takes over full-time. It should be noted that Brandon was not kicked out of the band or anything like that, he is just unable to play at this time. Even with the required surgery, it is possible that he will not be able to use his arm enough to play again for years. Our hearts go out to him, and we hope that he recovers as soon as possible.
In the mean time, there is something we all can do to help him out. Due to a lack of insurance, he is going to have to pay for his surgery out of pocket. The down payment is a whopping ten grand, so he has asked if anyone can spare him a dollar or two to give him a hand. One way to do this is by simply leaving a few bucks in a jar the band will be bringing around with them to shows. There are also ways that you can contact him directly and either send him a little help over Paypal or snail mail. I don't want to put out his info on our blog until I have an okay from him, so I will just put up the Whitechapel Myspace link at the end of this entry. Go to it and read the blog he has posted about his condition. It has all the info you will need there. If you can't find it for some reason, check back here every so often to see if I have posted it as an edit into this entry.
We seriously do wish him the best.
I dunno the general consensus about this band, but it has been one that really stuck out as a little-engine-rock-monster-that-could for me... I dunno what it was that did it for me, either their pummeling live show that rocked it to 11, their lone full-length with lyric themes and cover art that was straight up Boo Rad-ley (too much?), their shirt merch with awesomely beast/ironic catch phrases like "don't knock it til you rocket" or "just cuz I rock hard doesn't mean I'm made of rock" (with everyone's favorite blue-eyed monster, The Thing, on it), or maybe it was just the fact they were one of the few fresh crop of new powerfight acts that were actually putting good shit out on Solid State (who in my opinion is quickly slipping down the tubes with the handful of garbagewater bands they are pushing more than the good ones). But either way, their going the way of the polar icecaps and trickling away (I'm blaming you, Al Gore).
Only together for five years, they turned a band-for-fun into a touring powerhouse, but have decided to now hang their hats... Just like Planes is doing with their split, Twelve Gauge is giving us a final farewell tour, but pretty much only in the south. Bummertown... And even more bummertown cuz they're bringing The Handshake Murders out with them, who also know how to bring the shredderviolence. Jerks... But these casket junkies also left a positive note on their myspage as well: "Don't expect us all to be giving up on music so soon. By the beginning of the new year we should be able to announce some really big new stuff we have in the oven!!" ... I wonder what it will be... A bun? A baby? A baby made of buns, razorblades, lava, and fuckin rockness? Either way, I'll be waiting to hear... Remember kids, the juggernaut always prevails.
Twelve Gauge Valentine - "99 with an Anchor" (live)
Sometimes we here at BFoH just want to vent. It's good to not bottle everything up inside, and I can't think of any way better to release steam than ranting out to the world. Since pretty much everyone in the entire world reads this blog, it's obviously the perfect place to accomplish such a feat. So what is it that is bugging me so much that I chose to set up an entirely new column for it? Graphic hoodies, that's what.
I fucking hate graphic hoodies. I think they are the platform shoes of our generation. Not only are they completely idiotic looking, but they are a staple for the dumbfuck hipster culture that has been pervading our world for the past few years. I don't get it, hipsters. You guys are all trying to act like you're so different and avant garde, yet every single one of you people are an exact clone of the person before you. Yeah, that's pretty different of you. Womens jeans and graphic hoodies. Sounds good to me, as long as every other idiot that listens to Clap Your Hands Say Yeah has one. You boners are just so anti-conformist that you must conform to your anti-conformity. That really makes a lot of sense, doesn't it? Actually, no, it doesn't. And on top of it, you people use the most ridiculous ways of trying to show your hipster status, graphic hoodies included.
Unfortunately, I work in a building that has recently started leasing floors to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Now, being forced to hang out around art schools is pretty rough in the first place, but the Art Institute is by far the most disgusting venue for these loser I have ever seen. Swarms of hipsters are just lurking around, reading Dry, wearing graphic hoodies, and eating tofu. Self-righteousness oozes from their pores, at least the pores that are not covered by hairstyles that include mullets and Hammer steps. It must suck when it gets kind of cold and these douchebags have to decide whether they should put up their graphic hood and hide their awesome hair or just brave it out. It's really insane.
So why make the topic of this graphic hoodies and not just hipsters in general? Well, it's because these stupid sweatshirts are the most recent way of ensuring everyone knows where one stands on the hipster ladder. They all fucking have them. The more obnoxious it is, the hipper you are. I've seen some with really stupid graphics. Money, buildings, shoes. What will be next? I say these people should just jump straight to wearing a hoodie that has the name of every hip band they have ever listened to on it, you know, like those basketball jeans with all the teams. Those jeans say "I like basketball. I like basketball so much that I will not just support one team, but I will support EVERY team, as long as it's a basketball team." Since hipsters can't decide for themselves what music they like, if they get a hoodie with every hip band, it will say, "I like being hip. In fact, I like the fact that people know I'm hip over whether or not I can think for myself and actually pick out good music, so I'll just wear this monstrosity that has every band Pitchfork said was cool on it." Maybe I'll sell this clothing. I could get rich off of Hipster A's parents' money. Sweet. Money is always better when you know it's someone's parent's.
So there you have it. That was my first rant. It felt good. It felt healthy. Plus, I managed to come up with a killer business plan while writing it. My next post will be from my yacht.
1. Cursed - Two
2. Opeth - Ghost Reveries
3. Thee More Shallows - Book of Bad Breaks
4. All Shall Perish - The Price of Existence
5. Curl Up and Die - Unfortunately We're Not Robots
6. Whitechapel - The Somatic Defilement
7. Leftover Crack - Mediocre Generica
8. Red Sparowes - At the Soundless Dawn
9. The Sainte Catherines - Dancing for Decadence
10. Standstill - The Ionic Spell
1. Morning Glory - This is No Time ta Sleep
2. Architect - All is Not Lost
3. Hour of the Wolf - Power of the Wolf
4. Western Addiction - Cognicide
5. GG Allin - Dirty Love Songs
6. Animosity - Animal
7. A Life Once Lost - Iron Gag
8. Off With Their Heads - All Things Move Toward Their End
9. Psyopus - Our Puzzling Encounters Considered
10. Swarm of the Lotus - The Sirens of Silence
1. Between the Buried and Me - Colors
2. Acacia Strain, The - The Dead Walk
3. Dimmu Birgir - In Sorte Diaboli
4. I, Robot - Et Cetera
5. Converge - Jane Doe
6. Russian Circles - Enter
7. Love Like... Electrocution - Self-Titled
8. Cex - Starship Galactica
9. American Werewolves - We Won't Stay Dead
10. Against Me! - Reinventing Axl Rose
I don't know much about this radtastic DVD coming out, other than that it's apparently the second installment of the new Door2Door series of live punkster show DVDs coming out (the first was Street Brats, I believe)... but the man himself, Cap'n Todd Pot, alerted me of this tasty little gem through a bulletin from his my[but obviously not personally my]space 'brofile. The trailer below is a kinda bland, but it definitely got a little rise in the denim quarters of my attire (and im not talking about this vicious sleeveless jean jacket with the Motorhead patch on the back). Anywho, it (titled "Hopeless & Fucked") looks like it's gonna be packed with that delicious goodness only Hoboken can deliver (more specifically, the entire live set from their reunion show on December 28th, 2006 in Chi-town), so pick that shit up in January, knuckleheads!
photo by Patrick @ msigarmy.com
Guess what, cutthroats?? The storm-full of the Hell Belly just got a lot more professional... Not that we already didn't think we were pros at this sort of thing already... But now we no longer run the risk of being taken for some overweight sociopaths, sweating out droplets of Slim Jims and Jolt Cola at four in the morning in our legal gaurdians' basements, flaming jerkholes on message boards like it was 1998... We've officially shook the ".blogspot" from our violencebranches and are goin' down on it solo. So if you're still lost in the lurch, you no longer have to type in bellyfullofhell.blogspot.com into your trusty interweb address bar... Simply dash it with a sexy www.bellyfullofhell.com and you will be teleported to the wonderland of danger and intrigue, rife with chaos and shitty facial hair. This shit is getting even more talon by the second, so keep your nose to our powerviolence grindstone, and watch the dames flock in your general direction seventeen ways til Sunday... Now, get beast with yourself... Tube!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
I’m busting onto the scene like a bat out of hell, thanks Meatloaf. Who am I you ask? Well the Wu-Tang Clan rapped about me, Hour of the Wolf wailed about me, Hitchcock scribbled about me, and most of northern Wisconsin fears me; I’m Psycho Killa. Spelled with an “a” instead of “er,” to stay MTV generation compatible. ... So what if I just called myself by my pen name? I’m just trying to burn up some space here because I’ve never written anything besides someone’s order down at Scooby’s. I worked there as fry boy for 3 years and was elevated to cashier before I was offered this gig for a “brand new form of interneting” according to the fellas of Belly Full of Hell. I guess they invented blogs or something and…wait you wanted to know about the album right? OK, OK, here you go.
I was informed of this album by my friend Hallur Hallsson, yes he’s Icelandic, with these words:
“It’s… it rips. You just have to listen to it.”
So I took him up on that one. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed every other sonic adventure I’ve heard from these fellas, seemed a no-brainer. As I read into the album a little bit I realized it was receiving a lot of hype. I mean the album has a “trailer” for fuck’s sake. They also match “the brilliance of Pink Floyd, King Crimson, Tool, and Mastodon,” according to Victory Records website. Bah to you, Victory Records! I’m not really a fan of people comparing themselves to Pink Floyd, they always fall well short. Although nothing as ground breaking as Pink Floyd, the atmospheres present at times in Colors is reminiscent at times of the Floyd. I think Rick Wright, wind instrumentalist turned keyboardist, would be pleased with the comparison. Nonetheless this album rips and I think Between the Buried and Me have definitely catalyst themselves to the forefront of the progressive metal genre.
Colors definitely comes at you from many different angles. “Foam Born (A) The Backtrack” starts out lighter with some sultry piano and accompanying singing that gives way to some wondrously, synth-tastic melodies. Shagrath style vocals start the song morphing into “(B) The Decade of Statues,” a definitely heavier track with a chorus that seems to be played upon some foreign mountain top overlooking the sea as a blood moon rises. Yea, I went there bitches. BTBAM (always sounds like “Bat ‘um” in my head) provides yet another stellar song set that is a journey within each and have taken a step further with this album as it’s meant to flow from track to track. “Informal Gluttony” takes on the same foreign feel as the track gets ready to pummel you about a minute into it. As “Informal Gluttony” fades into didgeridoo and percussion goodness the first epic of the album bursts into your ears. “Sun of Nothing” clocks in at ten minutes fifty-eight seconds and provides you with a short Man Man style break. This track like the other epics and the album as a whole rips through you, sheds up the sound waves, and sails between many styles of music. Oh, I also forgot to tell you there is a western saloon style banjo breakdown in so be prepared for anything.
Just remember the Colors journey is meant to be a complete one, at least for your first time around. So time to burst your virginity with this album and bleed for metal!
Here you can check out BTBAM playing "Informal Gluttony" live. Make sure to listen for the horrible off-beat clapping by the crowd in the beginning.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Do you like carnivals and cotton candy that stains your whole mouth and face blue? Obviously. Have you always dreamed of capturing that feeling in music but then making it even weirder? If you said no, you're a fucking liar, and I'm calling you out on it. You can't sneak your bullshit past a gnarly glass-eater like me! So then it's settled, you love carnivals, cotton candy, and interesting music. Well, this is your lucky day. It's even luckier than the time you "accidentally" grabbed that sweet set of taters on that broad at the truck stop and then her burly man-beast of a husband slipped and fell on the freshly pissed-on floor before he could beat the living shit out of you. And why are you luckier than that? Because Man Man exists, that's why.
This album is fucking talon, and your homeboy-ass needs to go get it right now. Finish this article when you get back from picking it up.
Okay, so you got it? Sweet. Did you listen to it on the drive home in your Ford Explorer? If you did, then you know why I'm so stoked every time I put this bad motherfucker on. You also understand why I was talking about carnivals, cotton candy, and rickety rides that haven't passed inspection for forty years, especially when you heard those opening tracks, right? Yeah, I know, I didn't talk about the rides, but I should have. For those of you that decided to ignore my stellar advice, I'll let you in on what you're missing. These Philadelphia dudes create one hell of a musical style, which encompasses everything from rock to soul to, of course, circus music. It's so awesome. When I hear it, I want to swing from trapeze and tame lions and do some other carnivally shit. Every song is perfect for singing along to. It's also perfect for playing "what the hell is that instrument?", since these guys use everything and anything that makes some sort of musical noise. It's totally bitchin'.
I really think it's pretty close to impossible to actually get a feel of what I'm talking about unless you listen to it, so you should do just that. I think the best way to experience this band is to eat a bunch of acid and lock yourself in your room while blasting the jams. The combination of such strange music and you swatting at imaginary clowns is sure to get your parents to admit you to a mental hospital, and that's pretty cool because you'll probably have some killer stories to tell your friends when you get out. Anything to help with your popularity status, nerdbomber.
Check out the hell-slayers playing "Feathers" and "Engwish Bwudd" live.
Monday, November 19, 2007
It's a bummer, but the chaotic destroyers Gaza have officially canceled their tour. According to their Myspace page, a combination of van troubles and an unfortunate death have made it next to impossible for the band to travel and bring the ruckus to a city near you. On the blog outlining all the info, many apologies were stated, and it really sounds like the band feels bad for having to bail. Apparently they are shooting for another tour to start in early spring, so just sit tight.
In the meantime, make sure to listen to I Don't Care Where I Go When I Die, which is seriously a straight-up fantastic album. I can only imagine how much power and insanity would have been brought if I had gotten a chance to see them live. Maybe next time, hombres.
Belly Full of Hell Myspace
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Don't weep just yet, bloodhounds... Sure, our buddies in the PMFS camp have decided to call it a day, but unlike a lot of bands nowadays that just split up and alert their rabid fanbases by posting a lackluster BS post on their myspace page saying a quick "toodles, it's been fun" and sauntering off from whence they came, Planes have decided to grant us with a farewell US tour. And thank damn for that, cuz I missed them last time they slid through the area... But I still gotta throw a resounding "Ugh" out there on this one. There isn't many whiskey-soaked, raw powerhouses cutting their teeth on the rock'n'roll® game nowadays... and these dudes single-handedly made me wish i could grow my hair shittily long, swear off shirts, grow a fancy beer gut, cultivate a hellish beard, and speckle myself with arbitrary tattoos. Who's gonna make me wanna do that anymore?? Jerks.
But not only the surface mystique, these bruisers' music was even more importantly something to behold... it was gritty, it was passionate, it was coarse, and it was unforgiving. You all know how big of fans we here at the Belly are of anything with an element of 'dangerous' to it... and these guys simply brought the baptism by fire. And side note, they even have a song that is quickly gaining to be one of my personal faves, and coincidentally shares the same name of this very blog among blogs... Hella. And not only that, these guys had such a way with vernacular that was second to none. Obviously by picking one of the greatest band names in gnarhistory, but also with albums called "Up in Them Guts", "Fuck with Fire", "Spearheading the Sin Movement", "Knife in the Marathon", and songs with titles like "Knuckle Hungry", "Dying By Degrees", "Thunder in the Night Forever!", "To Spit a Sparrow", "Hollowpoint and Whiskey", "Killed by Killers who Kill Each Other", "Dancing on the Face of the Panther", and the aforementioned "Belly Full of Hell", these guys knew how to bring the radness, and make you wish you could embody a tenth of the sheer power and bullet-riddled nature these guys carried in their swagger.
So anyway, enough with my nonsense... These tried and true road-dogs are going to leave a giant hole in the heavy underground scene. Not only did they open my eyes to a lot of incredible bands that I wouldn't have found if they didnt drag 'em out on the road with them, but they had a tenacity and resilience that was truly an inspiration. See ya on Saturday, ya gnarly fucks... It will indeed be a funeral for a friend.
Planes Mistaken for Stars - "Spring Divorce"
Friday, November 16, 2007
1. The Tony Danza Tap Dance Extravagnza - Danza II: the Electric Boogaloo
2. Coalesce - 0:12 Revolution In Just Listening
3. Fucked Up - Epics in Minutes
4. Small Brown Bike - Collection
5. Mondo Generator - Dead Planet
6. Pig Destroyer - Prowler in the Yard
7. D.O.A. - Hardcore '81
8. Fear Before the March of Flames - Art Damage
9. Engineer - The Dregs
10. Off With Their Heads - All Things Move Toward Their End.
1. The Dillinger Escape Plan - Ire Works
2. Between The Buried and Me - Colors
3. The Absence - Riders of the Plague
4. Om - Variations on a Theme
5. High on Fire - Death is This Communion
6. Horse the Band - A Natural Death
7. In Flames - Colony
8. Iron Maiden - Piece of Mind
9. Dragon Force - Inhuman Rampage
10. Megadeth - Rust in Peace
1. Die Kreuzen - Die Kreuzen
2. Opeth - Ghost Reveries
3. Knights of the Abyss - Juggernaut
4. Nasum - Grind Finale
5. Killwhitneydead. - Never Good Enough for You
6. Deicide - The Stench of Redemption
7. The Handshake Murders - Usurper
8. Black Flag - Slip It In
9. Dimmu Borgir - In Sorte Diaboli
10. Vomitory - Terrorize Brutalize Sodomize
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Sorry this damn juicy (and awesometown) nugget o' news took a little bit to get up here on the Belly, I must be slippin' in my ripe old age... Sidenote, I'm starting to think it may not be attractive to talk about your sore back when you're a month and some change away from 25... but I do it anyway... for the ladies... or for the embarrassing uncomfortableness at cocktail parties... But it's like what my old man always says, you can't have one without the other.... So where were we? Oh, yes, those fun-loving scamps, The Bronx! To bring you up to speed, the nothing-short-of-amazing SoCal group with the NYC namesake played their last show a little under two weeks ago and are now embarking on their much needed hole-up in the studio to work on new jazz. You may be saying to yourself "Hey, Spleen, who the f-bomb gives an s-h-bomb? Make with the funny, review some shit, and then talk more about your back. You're wasting my rest-a-warm-laptop-on-my-genitals-and-watch-reruns-of-Scrubs time!" ... Oh, am I, impatient Belly reader? What you may not have known is that The Bronx is heading into the studio to churn out not just one aural gem, but TWO incredible albums (**the author gives himself full right to deem any yet-to-be-recorded Bronx albums 'incredible' because if you think that they wont be, you're a damn fool)... And not only are they recording two albums (which will both follow suit and be more self-titled records, just like the last two... *hilarious*) one will be the dead punk we've come to know and love from the boys (titled, obviously, The Bronx) and the other will be there own brand of MARIACHI music (aptly titled, El Bronx... *again, hilarious*). So expect sheer, fuckin' radness to the maxxx by the one and only band who was tapped to play Black Flag in that biopic about Darby Crash that's taken like four years to come out, and also expect tons of junk-cuppage like the kind you're being subjected to in their photo up there... Fuckin A.
So come dance with me... on the inside... as we both watch this wonderful example of The Bronx's all-around ruckus and riotous live shows that just feel like it should have "PARTYTIME ROCK'N'ROLL BASTARD" tattooed on the inside of its bottom lip, and it always wants to show everyone when it gets drunk, but when it does and it pulls down said bottom lip, you just see how gross its teeth are from years of cigarettes, black coffee, and whiskey, and that kind of makes you wanna throw up, but throw up in a totally awesome way, cuz you know that this dude's seen some shit, and you can only hope you can see some shit like the shit he's seen when he was in the shit...... shit...... It's just that damn gnar. Deal with it.
The Bronx - "Heart Attack American" (live in Vegas)
Alright, so this isn't just the usual "Let's just play a song on the radio and jump around like idiots while lip-syncing like Madonna" video. It's better. While I can't tell if the kid with the guitar is actually playing along (and if he is, nice job, kid), it's very obvious that the d-bagger with the wannabe mohawk is definitely using his real voice, and that's why this video is so fucking funny.
Puberty always hits at the wrong time. For this kid, it couldn't have been worse. Not only is he probably just starting to get interested in girls, but he also thinks he's metal, and I am pretty sure metal and puberty don't mix. In fact, the proof is right here. This fucking dork is trying to scream along to Kreator, but instead his voice is cracking all over the place. Does he even realize it's happening? Was he just rocking so hard in his room while his mom was making dinner and his dad got drunk on the couch watching reruns of "My Name is Earl" that he never noticed his voice sounds worse than the Partridge Family episodes when all their voices started to crack? I don't know, man, but this is so worth the watch. Homeboy's totally thinking he's a badass with those wristbands on his arms and knowing he just saw an episode of "Jackass" for the first time.
There's nothing more to say. Give this a watch.
Knights of the Abyss. Hmmm, pretty dumb name if you ask me. But do we review names here at BFoH? No, at least not at this point. Do we review albums? Yes. Do we occasionally put up albums that are so sick it's like having your brains blasted out? Fuck yes. So stupid name aside, I'm going to let you all in on a little secret: Knights of the Abyss shred. Boy, do they shred. And look at that fucking album art! Is that a spaceship going to attack a star?! Holy fuck. That's so ridiculous it's awesome.
While I'd be happy to just have the cover art, I got an added bonus with the music. It's somewhere in between death metal and deathcore, depending on how you want to look at it. The vocals aren't usually as guttural as normal death metal, but they get there sometimes. The music's speed is paced closer to that though. It's pretty fast and has an overall extreme heaviness to it. Kind of like that heavy feeling you get when you find out your wife was fucking your family dog. Yeah, pretty close to that, I would say. It never gets too mathy or techy or anything, but this record wasn't made to do that. It was just made to make you love aggressive metal even more. It was also made to make you want to set puppies on fire and throw them at your grandparents. I bet your grandma and grandpa wouldn't even get mad. They'd probably be thrashing around the old folks home playing air guitar until one of their hearts gave out. I hope to do that when I'm old. Death by thrashing. Put it on my gravestone.
So I would go pick this album up if I were you. Cool artwork and hella music. Can you go wrong?
Here they are playing "Hadlock." I've seen better crowds at shows, but I bet these guys are in North Dakota or something.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Proclaiming themselves to be making "brutal grind for brutal dudes," these four Michigan gentlemen are doing just that and more, since I'm sure there are one or two un-brutal dudes or broads out there that listen to SYNT. But here at the Belly, we are totally brutal, so we love their idea. I am still waiting for a band to make "lazy grind for lazy dudes" though, because I could get behind that more than anything. I've been known to be pretty lazy here and there. Mostly "here," because to be lazy "there" would require me to do something in getting to wherever "there" is, and that in itself is very non-lazy.
Oh, you want more info? Brutal grind for brutal dudes didn't explain enough? Alright, alright. Well, to begin, these guys are pretty brutal. And they play grind. Some dudes listen to it.
Fuck! You want more?! You Bellions are getting a little too greedy and expecting. Why do we always have to tell you about everything? Can't people just go and buy the disc? What if I was about to go put chains on the tires of my car for winter? What if I was going to run out and get some moisturizer for my pretty face? What if I was going to yell at that broseph who's dog won't shut the fuck up and shits in my yard? Well, lucky for you, I don't have a car, my face is the complete opposite of pretty and smooth, and I don't have a yard for any dogs to leave steamy Avenged Sevenfold albums (i.e. crap) in. So I guess I'll just tell you about the record.
It is brutal, and it is grind, but it's also hella. I saw these guys live and they tore shit up. They were so amazing that time stopped and we entered another dimension for a few seconds. The only way we were able to get back to Euclidean space and time was because SYNT were picked up in a helicopter by the government and flown away for experimentation. Believe it, it's true.
But in all seriousness, as we here at the Belly always are, See You Next Tuesday is pretty gnar. (That sentence just rhymed. If you missed it, read it again stressing "are" and "gnar".) They are fairly technical, which is always a plus, but I wish there was another guitar. One guitar just falls a little short. If these mans had another six-string shredder, my head would explode. The vocals are killer, with all octaves being hit perfectly. The singer's got a pretty decent range, and that is fun for everyone, even people with MRSA. The songs are short and fast, but what do you expect? No epics here, just straight up carnage. I think this album comes in at just over 18 minutes for 14 songs, so if you have 20 minutes to spare, instead of jerking off to your mom's Victoria Secret catalog, listen to Michigan's finest.
Here's the band playing "8 Dead, 9 if You Count the Fetus" in what looks like the middle of the street.
It's that time of the week again... The time to shine a spotlight on the musical dunces that surround us. The geniuses who think the only way to pay homage to one of their favorite bands and/or songs is by disgracing it and turning it into a mockery on public display... Seriously, this shit never gets old to us here at the Belly.
So anywho, I stumbled across this little ditty while looking for the latest GnarVideo of the Week (more specifically, while searching for the new Pig Destroyer video that I've heard so much about, which may make its own GnarVid debut next week, but I'm not sure yet)... Oh, but the horror, children!! I really cannot wait til you hit the magical play button and bask in all its un-rad glory with me. There is a split second right at the beginning of the video, right after the 'singer' douche says "Is it recording?", that I want to believe the guy holding the cardboard cut-out of a truly righteous guitar (a cut-out that he sadly probably spent a very long time coloring and taping up to give it that extra snazz for this high-quality rockin' production he was about to star in) thought to himself "Dudes, I know this song totally rips, but maybe we shouldnt make this video, I mean, its gonna be on the damn internet, anyone will be able to see how we really are a bunch of failure bombs. Guys? You know what I mean guys? Oh shit, the song's on, it's time to fuckin shred." Well, maybe that thought didn't cross his mind, but there definitely is something endearing about his deer-in-the-headlights look whilst awaiting to rock.... Sidenote, is it just me, or is the dude playing drums on a kit fashioned out of a school desk and weights for lifting reeeally hitting every fill and beat perfectly? Brother in the Napalm shirt seriously needs to find a new group of friends and start a real band asap.
To start off, I am going to tell you right now that if you think you're going to walk into your local record store and pick this gem up, you're probably wrong. I think there were only 100 copies made. Maybe they pressed more at some point without my knowledge, but the last I heard, it was very limited. And that's just too bad, because this shit will fist-fuck you so hard you'll bleed for years to come.
The Partisan Turbine hail from New York, and apparently they have a lot to piss them off out there, because the boys in TPT decided to create a band that plays some of the greatest goregrind/death metal out there. This stuff is insanely brutal. The vocals are ridiculous. There are all the death metal favorites: pig squeals, high-pitched screams, and the obvious growls of destruction. In fact, they are so terrifying, if I heard these guys practicing in an alley somewhere, I'd throw my own girlfriend in there for them to eat as I ran away. They're that scary! The last song on this record is called "Vaginal Secretion," and that is spooky in itself, because I can't think of one type of vaginal secretion you want to see.
The bummer about this album is that it's technically an EP. There are 9 tracks, but a majority of them are instrumentals and other weirdness. But don't fret, they are working on a new album that is going to be released soon on Siege of Amida, I believe. It might be Ferret though, since the two teamed up. Either way, keep your eyes open for the new shit, because you're going to want it. While you wait though, make sure to pick up Surgical Assault, because this album will infest your body with maggots that will not stop feeding until your entire body has been gorged upon... or something.
Here they are playing to a sold-out crowd at Fin's Pub. I don't know where Fin's Pub is, but I don't think I'm going to be going anytime soon.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Crowpath - "Chased, Caught, and Charged"
Monday, November 12, 2007
So what the hell is the deal with Sex Positions anyway? Well, according to Deathwish, a whole bunch of craziness has been going on. Let me sum it up in as few words as possible. Apparently all the original members except one left the band shortly after their first, and only, album was released. So the remaining member, Eric, put together a whole new outfit and went out touring in support of the record. After this, the band went on a European tour as a four-piece, but sans Eric. So now we have a band with no original members playing shows under the name Sex Positions. Then, three of the other original members that had left in the first place decided to pick up two other dudes and set up a show still using the band's name. Sounds pretty fucked up to me, but whatever. I guess those other guys that were not in the first ensemble are shit out of luck. But the good news is, the original singer is in with the other two guys that were there in the first place, so the Sex Positions that will be touring now will have the voice that made Sex Positions Sex Positions.
Under the circumstances, I am glad to report that I do not have to write a "Get Back Together" column, and I can just try to get these musical-chair-loving fools to make another fucking album. The self-titled record was killer, and I think the world is looking to hear some more of the band's crazy hardcore/electronic/piss-fueled rock. Sex Positions managed to make me want to break things and then spit on whatever I had just destroyed. I don't even know why. Probably just because I bet SP would do that. The music is hella gnar and mega fun. It's got a stiff upper lip and hasn't shaved in months. It's clothes are all ratty and covered in vomit consisting of rat poison and pussy juice. If Sex Positions music was an animal, it would be a rabid saber-toothed tiger with three normal legs and a bionic leg that shot lasers out of it. It would not be tamed under any circumstances.
So I ask you, Sex Positions, to bring us more rock. And by the way, if you want to use the image of that tiger on your album, it's cool by me.
Sorry, but I can't find anything but porn when I search for a video of the band. Not to mention that since all this crazy shit went down with them, a website is not really existent. So just look at this other picture and shove it.
Hello again, fiends of the Belly. I know the Spleen just did an Old Timers, but I had been meaning to get this one up for awhile and never got to it. But don't worry, because I am bringing it to you now.
For many, this album will come as no surprise, and really, I think it would have made a good first entry to this section. I don't know why it wasn't. I guess I just wasn't using the old noggin earlier. And for those of you that are confused as to why I am making such a big stink about this little gem, let me explain. The Feeding of the 5000 is the first album released by one of punk's most important bands: Crass. These guys (and girls) were one of the greatest examples of a DIY band ever. They were also at the forefront of the anarcho-punk movement, although some have said, and I tend to agree after careful attention to their lyrics and lifestyles, that the band represented a view more closely related to libertarian communism. Either way, they were extremely political both in music and action.
So why The Feeding of the 5000 and not Christ: The Album, for example? Well, as I said, this was their first album, and that is pretty important with a band like this, since the sound was pretty new. Not only that, but it has one of the best anti-religion songs ever as its opener. In fact, the original release (1978) was not able to actually carry the aforementioned song, entitled "Reality Asylum," because the plant pressing the records refused to make them since the lyrics were considered to be blasphemy. Crass pulled the song and initially left the first 2 minutes of the record blank, with the song title being "The Sound of Free Speech." It was not until Crass set up their own label and re-released the album in 1981 that the song made it to pressing. The track is called "Asylum" on this pressing.
But beyond this, all the music carries a message that still holds true today in our world of ideological politics and the world's laziness in any sort of reaction to the problems presented by the egotistical nutjob politicians and the corporate, asinine bullshit fed to mainstream consumers everyday, although I guess it's peoples' own fault for being the said mainstream sheep and eating up the slop they are presented with. Crass were all about anti-religion, feminism, gay rights, environmentalism, anti-consumerism, and peace, and you can get a good dose of all those themes on this record. But also, the music is just, plain good.
So if you have never listened to this album, do it now. Otherwise, re-listen to it. It's killer, man.
I was just alerted to some news that's fresh as a spring dew in hell... Every Time I Die has announced that they will headlining the 7th installment of the Take Action charity tour. Here's some info, if this is foreign to you: "Take Action was founded by Hopeless & Sub City Records with the mission to create a better world, one voice and one action at a time. Take Action strives to educate people about the positive difference that can be made by each of us in our community through activism and charitable work. To date over $450,000 has been raised through the efforts of Take Action." ... Wow, quite a mouthful, indeed. Unlike the thousands of BS charities running rampant nowadays, Take Action doesn't fall into anywhere near the same category as these piddly, fad-based, just-support-them-so-you-look-cool wastes of time... Also, with ETID on the bill, this run may be the most rowdy and powerviolence ever (seeing as past co-headliners have been Jimmy Eat World, Thrice, Chiodos, Silverstein, Poison The Well [you know PTW shred, don't think I'm saying they don't bring the rowdy], Sugarcult, Matchbook Romance, etc) ... And lastly, I also have gotten word that Escape the Fate will be the co-headliner for this round's tour. I don't know anything about these guys, but at one quick glance at their myspace page, I was slapped in the face with how much they look and sound like utter douchebags. Hopefully this co-headlier jazz was just a rumor, and they'll be revealing the real headliner at another date.... did someone say the Bronx? Converge? or those righteous dudes in the Red Chord? ... They're all due for a fancy North American square dance on our faces... think about it...
And don't forget, you crazy sonzabitches... Additional information including the full line up, charity information, and tour dates will be announced soon. Please check Takeactiontour.com for the most up to date information.
Sorry for the delay of new content for the weekend, bruisers... I was busy battling a cold that left me expelling 18 lbs of green garbage from my face, backing myself off just shy of the lethal dose of Actifed and Ibuprofen, and hand-trucking my 80 lb head around the house on a dolly... but regardless, that's no excuse... so here we are.
I felt the urge to blow the dust off this column since we've only had one entry for it, and cuz I was listening to this album so much over the weekend while shackled to my mattress, bedridden... So anyway, I present: The Dicks... The one band that single-handedly brought the American hardcore sound to the wild-western, oft-conservative state of Texas in 1980. Frequently playing with the Big Boys and Millions of Dead Cops, these three titans held down the Texan side of things while LA, New york, Chicago, San Fran, Boston and the rest of the tribal areas were having their own early-80's hardcore booms. Lineup changes were no stranger to the Dicks, like many other hardcore bands of the era, but the ringmaster always stayed constant. And that man was Gary Floyd, who was one of only a small crop of openly gay musicians in the scene. This little tidbit only added fuel to their politically and socially radical ideals and content... always embracing the controversy within their craft.
But as for this record in particular... It is a complete crowning gem of punk mythos often forgotten. And not only that shit, plain and simple, it's brutal, it's aggressive, it's got heart, it's got soul, it's honest, it's combatative, it's just plain fuckin righteous. This album is a sampling of their entire dicography (sidenote: also a perfect introduction to the band if your music taste is so silly that you haven't stumbled across these guys yet), sure its missing some of the stuff off the "Kill from the Heart" era, but it's an aural dynamo regardless. The thing I love about this damn band is that they meld their anger and hardcore ferocity with a certain blues and swagger comparable to none. It makes for one delicious, vicious, menacing, but sexy time... an urgency of violence spiced with a messy groove bomb. And also another sidenote, when surfing around the 'interweb' peeping a glance at what other people thought of this record, I have to harshly disagree with one thing. As with a lot of bands, if you listen to everything they've made, from first song to last, you should notice a growth -- a maturity of sorts. And the Dicks are no different from this equation. A lot of fan reviews say they can't get down on the later, more bluesy/rootsy vibe of their tunes... the ones that became more three parts blues to one part hardcore, as opposed to the inverse of their earlier jazz... and all I have to them is "fuck off and neckpunch yourself with a shoehorn, you assholes don't know shit about dick" (pun intended). Give it a chance, you're witnessing the evolution of greatness... and a righteous ride.
Just as relevant today..... The Dicks - "Fake Bands" (live @ 710 Club in Austin)
Thursday, November 8, 2007
1. Isis - In the Absence of Truth
2. Man Man - Six Demon Bag
3. Hot Cross - Fair Trades and Farewells
4. The Black Halos - Alive Without Control
5. Horse the Band - A Natural Death
6. Rose Funeral - Crucify. Kill. Rot.
7. The Sawtooth Grin - Cuddle Monster
8. Give Up the Ghost - We're Down Til We're Underground
9. Maharahj - Repitition
10. Calabrese - The Traveling Vampire Show
Hey... We didn't forget about you... ya whiners!
1. Dillinger Escape Plan - Ire Works
2. The Fire The Flood - Truth Seekers
3. Graf Orlock - Destination Time Yesterday
4. Dillinger Four - First Avenue Live
5. Bleeding Kansas - Dead Under Decor
6. Destroyer Destroyer - Littered With Arrows
7. Charles Bronson - Complete Discocrappy
8. Blues - Snakepit
9. Fugazi - The Argument
10. Don The Reader - Don The Reader EP
Its a sad day here at the Belly folks... While on review assignment *slash* getting my rock on at the Norma Jean show last night, they reminded the crowd of a kinda downer bit of news right before their second to last song: that this would be Daniel Davison, their drummer's last show with the band. I completely forgot that I heard that rumor back in the end of September, but last night it was all confirmed. Cory, their singer, gave a really nice parting speech, that was suprisingly emotional, given the brutal attack that their live show consisted of thus far. And the crowd was actually quite responsive with their cheers and claps while the rest of the band exchanged hugs and gratuitous high-fives with Daniel. But the crowning moment of the night was after their closer, when their guitarist flung himself into Daniel's drum kit, smashing down into his lap, and taking out the entire thing in the most Cobain/Keith Moon/turboviolence manner... and then joined in a full-band destruction of said kit... It was glorious... In Daniel's own words, in a public statement, he says "I am not leaving the band on bad terms with any of the guys, but there are differences between us, both personal and spiritual, that I felt were too great for me continue on with, or ignore any longer." We sincerely wish him the best in wherever the road takes him, and thank him for his dedication to such a powerful band for the past decade... Daniel we'll miss your keen ability to make mountain man beards on skinny dudes seem elegant again, and in your honor, Memphis will certainly be laid to waste.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Alright, Bellions... Another NYC show goin down tonight that will get our usual live show lip service. BUT unlike the rest of the shows we've reviewed, where there was usually a pretty good bill going on, this one has ONE good band on it... as in UNO... and the rest of the show is a complete pile. BUT this one band (to little ol' me) is worth the ticket price alone.
I'm talking about the mighty Norma Jean... whose live show is like a hammer-smack to the jaw... and I like that kind of shit... but not in a sexual way or anything. I was actually quite looking forward to this show tonight, even with the atrocious bill, since I missed them last time they bopped through the area with The Chariot and A Life Once Lost cuz i was outta town. But this time, they're sandwiched in a deathgrip of completely expendable wastes of time... and I'm referring to the trifecta of trite: Saosin, alexisonfire, and Envy on the Pieceofgarbage (or something). Basically, this show is going to be like when you were a kid, and you swallowed that sick Cracker Jack decoder ring, and then the doctor told your mom that she had to sift through your crapzer for the next week or so to make sure you passed it, cuz if you didn't it could give you cancer or lay decoder ring eggs or something, and then when it finally did pass through, your mom tossed it in the garbage, but you secretly dug it back out again and cleaned the fuck out of it with bleach and rubbing alcohol, because you missed your shitty plastic code-breaking friend.... ok, maybe its not exactly like that, but the metaphor is in there somewhere... I'm gonna be sifting through a load of crap to find my special little decoder ring.
So expect a show review shorter than most... since I obviously will be throat-punching my liver with beverages during three of the "bands" tonight... but there is a slight chance it could rear its head and turn into a vicious rant onto those three Debbie Downers as well... but you'll just have to tune back in later to find out... Same Belly time, same Belly channel.
Indulge, jokesters... Norma Jean - "Bayonetwork: Vultures in Vivid Color"
The Jonbenet - "Behold the White Whore"
Halloween is one of my favorite fake holidays: It's an excuse to eat shitloads of tooth-rotting sweets and dress up as bloodthirsty serial killers, zombies and assassinated presidents. But last week, I forwent my annual costumed partying and gluttonous candy-eating by attending a concert at the Blender Theatre at Gramercy. And with good reason: Between the Buried and Me were playing a headlining show with support from Horse the band, Animosity and Giant.
First up were Giant. The Raleigh, North Carolina quartet recently replaced The End after their guitarist abruptly quit the band. But Giant's squalls of melody, bass grooves, atmospheric guitars and occasional throaty shouts didn't go over well with the Blender crowd -- people began spewing the typically unimaginative insults ("You suuuuuuuuuuuuck!") during most of the quieter instrumental parts. (Clearly no one else was a fan of Isis, Pelican or Cult of Luna.)
Next were Animosity. I had first heard of them a few weeks ago when I received their new album Animal, which was produced by Converge's Kurt Ballou (the disc caught my attention among my pile of CDs because it had a neon album cover that featured a vomiting bear), and I was really psyched to see them live. When they came onstage, each member wore a mask of a giant photo of their own heads. "We're Animosity, Bobblehead Edition 2008," said singer Leo Miller, whose "bobblehead" bore green sunglasses and an open mouth. They immediately launched into "Toothgrinder" from the new album; they also played "Bomb Over Rome," "A Passionate Journey" and "Plunder Incorporated" from Animal as well as older tunes. Animosity's fast metal guitars, pummeling blastbeats and strangled screams induced non-stop mosh pits and left the crowd wanting more -- when their set ended, the "one more song" chant turned into "one more set."
To prepare for HORSE the band's performance, roadies began putting out fake trees, a giant inflatable turkey and a funeral horse and carriage on the stage. Then the drummer flitted into the spotlight in a short dress and fairy wings; the guitarist came on in a belly-baring genie outfit, the bassist was dressed as a witch and the keyboardist wore a yellow evening gown. When the singer walked out in a mermaid outfit (complete with a red-haired wig and seashells covering his hairy man boobs), it became apparent that Htb were dressed as female Disney characters (that's Tinkerbell, Jasmine, Maleficent, Belle and Ariel for the Disney deprived).
"We're HORSE the band from another land," said frontman (er, frontwoman) Nathan Winneke in a high-pitched voice, setting off the band's raucous set of frantic tunes laced with lung-burning howls, breakneck guitar runs and manic 8-bit video game-inspired synthesizers worthy of the greatest NES games. Htb played both new and old tracks (from R. Borlax to The Mechanical Hand to their latest, A Natural Death) including crowd-pleaser "New York City" (natch). The little mermaid was wigless and topless ("Let's see that at Disney on Ice, you motherfuckers!") by the time they got to their closing song "Cutsman," which had the audience going apeshit over the "Nintendocore" classic. Even if Htb isn't your cup of tea, you can't say that they don't put on an entertaining show.
Finally, the headliner: Between the Buried and Me. The last time I saw BTBAM in NYC was October 31, 2004 at the Knitting Factory, when they were touring in support of Alaska and opening for Converge. This time around, the five-piece came onstage dressed in matching overalls and straw hats with no shoes ("I think it was a bad idea to play barefoot," frontman Tommy Rogers later said). From there, they played their new album Colors in its entirety. From the opening piano ballad of "Foam Born (a) The Backtrack" to the 14-minute opus "White Walls," it was immersive, beautiful, heavy, melodic, progressive. When the set ended they left the stage for a mere two minutes only to returns and play "Selkies: The Endless Obsession," everyone's favorite jazzy, synthesizer-laden track from Alaska. Costumes aside, this was one of the best all-around shows I'd been to in a long time, and you should kick yourself for missing it.
[All photos by Jesse Angelo.]
I have to say that this is one of my favorite sections on the Belly. Not only does it help out people that obviously want others to see how idiotic they can be, but it's fucking hilarious to boot. And this is an extra special edition, because it's a cover of a cover! Mind blowing!
So Children of Bodom apparently did a remake of Britney Spears' "Oops! I Did It Again." Why? I don't know. It's not even a good remake. But that is beside the point. What we want you to see is that somebody decided this song was so amazing, they wanted to add a little bit of themselves into the mix. Big mistake, especially since the Belly is on the lookout for shit like this.
I can't tell if this is two teenage girls or one teen girl and a Hanson brother. Either way, the lameness scale is through the roof for this duo. Not only does the Hanson brother try to act all hard for the Bodom parts, but the girl tries to act sexy for the Britney parts. Those facts added to the age of these jokers is an obvious equation for disaster. My favorite part is when the music dies and talking starts in another language. The two kind of just look at each other and try to mouth something along with it. Hopefully Thelma and Louise here won't be hired to do any voice-over work, cuz that shit is way off. There is also a short time of confusion when the two are presented with a guitar solo and no words at all. Shit! Just look at the camera! Don't do anything stupid!
Sorry, Mario and Luigi, you already could not look any stupider.
Children of Bodom - "Oops! I Did It Again" (Hanson Version)
Ok, so maybe some of you are a tad disheartened after my last "Found You," where I ended up writing an article right afterwards saying that I was actually getting pissed off at the band I had just pseudo-recommended. Sorry about that. But while wecamewithbrokenteeth put out some dece music, the band itself was comprised of completely unpowerviolence members. Fuck that shit. Those peckerwoods were going to get a piece of my mind!
But I am back with a seriously killer band this time around. Enter O' Captain! My Captain!. These fuckers destroy. I stumbled across them on Last.fm. Have you jerks checked that out yet? Fuck! But seriously, these fellas barely have anything out, so it was a fantastic find. I think they have 2 EPs and that's it. But the few jams that are available are primo. Deliciously brutal deathcore is on the menu from these guys, and we love a bit of the d-core here at the Belly.
Hailing from Pennsylvania, aka the home of sin (I made that up), the boys just want to pummel the rest of the country. Maybe even the world! And they are doing a good job so far. In fact, the songs are chock-full of ripping guitar work, hella vocals, and snake-fighting drum work. With a combo like that, you just cannot go wrong.
So give these bastards a listen. I promise that you will not be let down. Let's just hope they get an album out soon, because I want more, more, more!
Listen to some choons here: Myspace
I can't find any videos from them. Sorry. Let us know if you come across one so we can put it up.
I think I just peed a little while watching this video... "just a widdle piddle", as they say... or some shit... right guys?... guys?
But really, I have to put this up here, cuz something inside me willed it so... This video alone has to be one of the most crowning achievements for gridcore ever, hands down... or at least in the top ten... And the moment in question is The Tony Danza Tapdance Extravaganza making a cameo on the real Tony Danza's crapfest talk show! I really never thought this would happen in our lifetimes, and honestly, I thought the universe would collapse in on itself if the the two titans of Danza were ever to collide... but instead, middle-American housewives and their weak-willed, effeminate husbands rejoiced in cheers, hoots, and hollers from their live studio audience seats. And somewhere deep down in the cockles of my blackened soul, a smile was cracked slightly... It just warms me to hear blue-haired Blanche and Flo from Fargo, North Dakota, holding hands and getting all giddy with themselves over righteous blast beats from hell.... Hail the Danza. Hail the slap.
Tony Danza Tapdance Extravaganza on The Tony Danza Show:
Monday, November 5, 2007
A few nights ago, the Spleen and I were having a few words with each other via cellular communication, and something was brought up about the band Give Up the Ghost. At this point, it was noticed that neither of us could figure out what exactly happened to them. Did they break up for good? Was it a hiatus? Were they fighting the hockey mask killer on that space station from Jason X? Well, it turns out they broke up for good. This may be old news to some, but the breakup isn’t the point of this article, so everyone can relax for a second. The point is, we want the jokers to get back together!
I guess health and personal issues were sited for the Ghost’s death. I don’t really know the details, but it’s probably about time they got some shit going. We miss the sing along choruses. We miss the raw energy put into every song (even as American Nightmare, A.N., American Nothing, and whatever other names they came up with before GUtG). We want to hear the jams that made us pump our fists in the air and scream along. Don’t deny us any longer! It just isn’t fair.
Hell, after that lawsuit against Fall Out Boy was filed for stealing your lyrics, you guys can probably even buy some new equipment. Oh, and good job for sticking it to those guyliner pussies. You should have sued them out of house and home. I would love to see Pete begging me for change on the sidewalk. I wouldn’t piss on that douche if he was on fire, let alone give him money so he could continue to create the shit they call music. Dude, you fucking play bass for a pussycore band. You aren’t a bad-ass. Go try and kill yourself again, and this time, do it right.
Anyway, we just want the kind sirs from Give Up the Ghost to start writing some new choons. Make sure to play Chicago and New York when you do. I’ll give you money from my wallet.
Here's a live look at the band playing "Love American" in Iceland aka Land of Ice.
That’s right, loyal readers, HWM is getting back together for a reunion tour! There is really nothing in this world that could be more fucking gnar, unless we could manage to get Jello Biafra on the presidential ballot. Shit, I still say this Hot Water tour is more hella. So why did the boys decide to reunite? They say that it is to help bring attention to their new release of B-sides and singles on No Idea Records called “Till the Wheels Fall Off,” but I think they just realized that the world needs a little bit more rock in it. We here at the Belly certainly agree, so mad props to Hot Water for bringing what we want. In true HWM fashion, everything is pretty much up in the air at this point. Those boys sure don’t like to get shit figured out. So, as it stands, there are only three stops right now. They say they don’t have a limit on how many shows will be played, but they haven’t really bothered to think about it either.
So go see them if they stop in your town or anywhere within 200 miles of your town. Check out the album, too. It drops January 22nd. They obviously read our site, since we did a “Get the Fuck Back Together, Idiots” on them a little while back. Right now it’s just a tour, but let’s hope for some new jams. On their site, they answered a few questions about all this mayhem, and one was whether or not they are going to begin working on some new stuff. The answer simply said, “We haven’t even rehearsed the old shit yet.” That’s still not a “no.” Keep your fingers crossed.
Tickets go on sale November 10th.
Here are the current dates:
January 19 - House of Blues (Orlando, FL)
January 25 – Starland Ballroom (Sayerville, NJ)
February 2 – Metro (Chicago, IL) Booyah!
Check the HWM site for updates.
Hot Water Music Site
Here's the video for "Paper Thin."
Hey there, Belly Full of Hellions. About me: all you need to know is that I was cool enough to be invited to contribute to this blog by Spleen Latifa and The Hellion, I can write words to form sentences (kinda), and I like heavy music. [Editor Spleen's note: "And her knowledge of all things powerviolence can shred your face off, doucher... eat that, fatboy."]
To get a sense of my tastes, here's my "Heavy Rotation" playlist for the week:
1. The Dillinger Escape Plan - Ire Works
2. Between The Buried and Me - Colors
3. Animosity - Animal
4. Horse The Band - A Natural Death
5. Cannibal Corpse - Kill
6. The Black Dahlia Murder - Nocturnal
7. The Melvins - (A) Senile Animal
8. Pentagram - First Daze Here
9. Casket Architects - Skull Persuasion
10. Panthers - The Trick
And to match The Hellion's and Spleen Latifa's "even gnar as children" photo, I've posted a pic of me in the 6th grade. I'm wearing the Guns N' Roses shirt, my BFF at the time is in the Metallica tee... proof that I had an appetite for destruction at age 10. [Editor Spleen's note: "Take that, ya gnarfucks."]
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Damn it, I am so happy to share this one with ya, kids... almost as happy as I am that I stumbled upon them a little while back. Actually, it was during a gnarconvo between the Hellion and I, when he expressed that he hasn't heard their jazz before, that i felt prompted to toss these fellas up here post haste.
So, where to begin? This ferocious Tucson act is still a little wet behind the ears, just being about four years old... but you seriously would not guess that by their sound, or even their style of sound for that matter. I say that cuz these cats are blending together stuff thats long been buried and that needs to make a damn comeback to the forefront of aggressive music. I'm talkin' energy and heart like the MC5, raw power like the Stooges (pun intended), groove injectors of soul and the blues, unfiltered rock purity of the early Who, unbridled aggression like Black Flag, and just that altogether we-don't-give-a-fuck-and-we're-gonna-plug-in-and-tear-this-place-down like so many early garage-rock bands... it just oozes with sex and radness... the perfect mixed gnardrink.
You know what, fuck all my (probably) pretentious comparisons and Six-Degrees-of-Kevin-Baconing of their style and sound... That stuff doesn't matter one bit, just pick up the record (I'd pick up the latest, "Sudden Departure of Vultures" which rips like there's no tomorrow) and you'll see for yourself... their shit is dangerous... and that's all there is to it. It doesn't matter how loud you're screaming or how chaotic the music might be, cuz even in aggressive music today, at times, things seem pretty safe by rock n' roll standards. But this band just comes in like a breath of fresh air. You can almost smell the shitty tour van, the broken bottle bar fights in Kansas, the switchblades in the boots, the sweat on jean jackets and beards in the crowd, the VD on the sleazy broad in the black leather skirt with the tar-stained fingertips by the Ms. PacMan machine, and especially the faint stench of fucking awesomeness that you just can't wash off. So do what you do, listen or not... but if you're looking for a group that delivers like a punch to the neck of the music industry, you needn't look any farther... Death to all false ragers.
The American Black Lung - "Doc Bollywood"