Dispatches from Powerviolence: Fox from See You Next Tuesday Needs Your Help

Alright, it's been a while since we've seen you last, and I apologize from the deep, dark bottom of my cavernous soul. Life got wicked, shits needed to be taken care of... Except the damn apology!

Anywho, we're calling on you loyal Bellions to do some service for a good man... See You Next Tuesday singer Chris Fox requires some surgery, but like most of the ladies and gentlemen that make the music we so much enjoy, he's a little strapped for cash and is unable to afford the operation. Here's the word from the horse's mouth, so find it in your empty chests where a heart is supposed to rest to spare a little change if you can. The Belly has already fronted 20 bucks for the cause, now do your part. Take it away, Fox:

"Let me explain the story of what has been goin' on. The first day we arrived to Europe on this past tour, I noticed my right armpit was a little sore. I felt around and I noticed a hard lump about the size of a marble. Over time it kept getting more painful and larger. I saw a couple doctors while in Europe, and both of them wanted to cut whatever it is out on the spot, but, I couldn't do that because I was on tour and I would have been stranded in some foreign country.

"So, as soon as we landed I went to my family doctor here in Michigan. And he said the same thing, it needs to get cut out. Nobody seems to be sure what it is, the only thing they know it is not is a lymph node because it is too big. This thing is about the size of a golf ball now, so on the outside it looks about the size of an orange. It is very painful. It seems to be pinching off nerves or something because I get shooting pains across my chest and down my arm. Some days I can't even lift my arm up. And for some reason the back of my arm is always numb now. And it fucking sucks.

"Here is my problem. I tour with the band almost 80% of my time, therefore, I don't have a 'real job' to collect health insurance. So I'm pretty much fucked. I do have a job, I'm a tattoo artist, but it's pretty dead at the shop right now so I'm not making much. Not nearly enough to pay for this.

"So I'm on my hands and knees begging for help. I can't refuse this operation, it hurts so fucking bad that I can't stand it anymore. I've lived with this thing for almost two months now. I hate doing this shit because I feel so worthless, and I know times are tough everywhere for most everyone, but I have to ask for help from you guys. It is my last option at this point. I've set up a donation thing through Paypal, but of course the button isnt working. Please just go to Paypal.com and you can just send any amount to my email address, fabrfox@gmail.com from your account. If someone could donate a dollar or a quarter or anything I would be fucking stoked. It would be that much more than I have now. I would love you guys more than I do now and do whatever I can to make it up to you. If you can, please help me."

... How can you say no to a face like this:

So Sick It Hurts: See You Next Tuesday - "Parasite"

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.