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Showing posts with label punk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label punk. Show all posts

Friday, August 16, 2013

Burning Monk




Never before have I heard Stoner Metal juxtaposed with Hardcore Punk. However, the droning Stoner Metal riffs take a backseat to the relentless Punk Rock audio assault, and the result is a trippy hellride that transcends genres. The lyrics reveal a disturbing combination of hatred and humor. You don't know if you should rise up in  justified outrage or laugh in a drunken stupor. Why not do both? Their self-titled album would make a great soundtrack for a riot, a house party, or anything in between. The string instruments and percussion are the simple, catchy hooks with an aggressive conotation that we always expect from Punk Rock. Meanwhile, the heavy, sluggish Stoner Metal riffs are a flashback to early Black Sabbath, echoing the same overwhelming darkness that shrouded the seminal Metal of the 70's. The lyrics take  political stance without being preachy. Burning Monk makes it scathingly clear that the world is not inherently a very fair or safe place, but they take the bite off with a cheeky sense of humor and some kick ass melodies.

Burning Monk defies the stereotype of Punk Rock being boiled down to "We don't give a fuck! Oi Oi Oi!"  As a matter of fact, they seem to care deeply about many social issues, from the sketchy practices of the fast food industry, to mass corruption on a global scale. However, what they express doesn't seem to be concern so much as a scathing hatred. They're my kind of guys.

In a nutshell, they're politically charged Hardcore Punk with a heavy Stoner twist. Check 'em out on Reverbnation or Bandcamp.  Four stars outta five. 





Saturday, June 30, 2012

Band Review: These Charming Cobras


The band is aptly named,since they are deceptively chill, belying venomous undertones and musical subversity. Upon first hearing them, I was enraptured by the simple, catchy hooks and vocals so smooth they border on sedative. However, the get-stuck-in-your-head guitar is distorted and full of attitude. The vocals, although aesthetically pleasing, are also more than what they seem. The lyrics are a trifecta of funny, sexy, and scary themes that characterized the lyrics of Alice Cooper. Speaking of trifectas, the band is just a trio. Don't be fooled by the size of the band. just like real snakes, it's the little ones that will really get you. For instance, full orchestras are the biggest bands out there, but I usually can't even stay awake for a whole movement (unless it's Wagner, but that man was an evil musical genius.)

This music appeals to fans of Pop, Surf Rock, Indie, Punk, and all the nagging subgenres in between. The CD, Dime Sized Deaths,  would make a most excellent soundtrack to your next house party or high-speed police chase. The album art is reminiscent of the tricolored, stick-figure style of Punk classics such as Sex Mad by Nomeansno or Gypsy Punks by Gogol Bordello. I don't know if there's much more I can say about the art... What you see is what you get.

So, in a nutshell, it's mass-appealing Punk Rock with a variety of musical influences. You can check them out on bandcamp, but they put on one hell of a live show. Five stars outta five.








Sunday, June 24, 2012

Upcoming Shows

A few days ago, I thought I'd just post a single half-assed entry and leave it there for a fortnight. However, fate/Metal/ the internet had other plans. I'm lots of fun and bad with numbers, so I'm pretty sure it's four posts and counting at this point. Well, here ya go.


Domestic Violence is best described as Super Punk Rock. They're so awesome that even people who don't like Punk music are hooked, if only by morbid curiosity. They do have music online, but quite frankly, it will never do them justice. This is an act you have to see live to truly understand the experience. It's kind of like Shock Rock for the Hardcore crowd. Whoah, I thought Metal logos were supposed to be illegible. I can't be sure I'm reading the rest of the line up correctly, but it looks like Colour Me Once, Leaky Faces, Robots Eat Brains, and Society Unknown. The first three words on the flyer are "Punk" and "All Ages", and honestly that's all I need to hear. 


I know I give Santa Fe and Albuqurque alot of cred for their contributions to the Metal scene, but it would be blasphemous to neglect our neighbor Taos. Taos is best known for it's hot springs, wicked ski slopes, crazy hippies, and insane parties. This shindig is aptly titled Metal Reign In The Northern Mountains. The extremely talented Eulogies Of The Forgotten are playing, and I can attest to their awesome shredding abilities.  Obelisk hails from my hometown, and they describe themselves, quite fittingly, as "Party Sludge".  From Sacrifice To Survival will kick your ass, musically speaking. Portrait Of A Mastermind is intricate yet heavy, plus they have a pirate song. If that doesn't shiver your timbers, nothing will. There's two other Metal bands too, so that's just $5 for 6 bands. Wicked. 


So much for June. If you need to take a breather, you can chill during July and start August off with this. As soon as Monday, I will be old enough to see all of the bar shows. I've already gone mad with my newfound power, albeit premature at this point. What could be better than booze and a concert? Maybe if there was some hotties involved, I'd say I was in heaven...



...Oh my! Thank you, Gods of Metal. \m/

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Band Review: HN-88

I have a secret love for Pop- Punk. Laugh all you want, but I am still a badass Metalhead, despite my adoration for cutesy music. Besides, HN-88 are actually pretty freaking boss. Never mind that their name is random numbers and letters in the vein of Blink 182 or Sum 41. These guys write songs with the same subject matter as Metal... the Apocalypse, drug use, murder, sex,  and (if you count Metalcore as "Metal"), a combination of the latter two. Despite the intense themes, they sound catchy and upbeat. This is the kind of music that reduces a rocker girl such as myself into little more than just another coquettish, high-pitched groupie. It's not my fault they're dreamy. Stop yelling at me.


...Wait, ok, maybe they're not that dreamy. Was I really sloshed at the last show or was the stage lighting deceptively flattering? I guess we'll never know. But despite their delightfully hilarious physical appearance, they sound really good. Besides, now with this picture in my grasp, I have some leverage for future blackmail purposes. And another item in my "Stuff To Look At High" folder.

In all seriousness, these guys are great if you have nostalgia for the 90's and old-school MTV. Back in my day, this is the kind of stuff that rocker dudes would play to impress their girlfriends. And as a chick, I have to admit, this makes us go wild. Metal will always be my favorite genre... Nay, my favorite THING EVER....  But the hottest guys in it are the fictional band Dethklok. Even other Metalheads admit, we're kind of nasty. But HN-88 is totally adorable, despite all the evidence to the contrary, I.E that cheesy photo that I insisted on posting here because it's funny.

See? They're cute, they're talented, AND they make girls laugh. These stupid assholes are basically my kryptonite. I honestly think they deserve five stars, but I resent them for interfering with my Metalhead image, so I'll only give them four.




...Ah, fuck it. Here's the other one. Those guys earned it. Those bastards...




Thursday, March 15, 2012

Last Minute Shows

 Local music scenes rule, and as such I try to promote concerts and events as often as I can. But there were some shows that I didn't even know about until approximately five seconds ago, so I'm gonna hype it up as much as possible within the given deadlines.

First of all, we have Obelisk, Cassovita, and some other third band playing at W21 at 7 PM tonight, so there's like 2 hours to get ready for that shit. There's not even a flyer for me to share with you beautiful people, so you can already tell this gig is going to be a little hectic. However, as Chris Krovatin so eloquently stated, cartoonish crisis is the pinnacle of Metal art. Anyway, the first two bands are from Santa Fe, and they can best be described as "Pretty Metal." Obelisk is groovy, ambient, and a little bit sludge-y. It's like post-metal with growlish vocals. Cassovita is a former Death-Metal band that dropped the "Death" part, along with half the members. Now it is an Instru-Metal duo with trippy, atmospheric melodies. I forgot the other band's name, but the concert coordinater assures me that they rock. Not only has she booked them for years, but she's a musician herself (Check out her band, Drought), so I generally trust her judgement.

Tomorrow we have These Charming Cobras, Venus Bogardus, Torn Between Worlds, Lo On High, and Soul To Rest, as well as Cassovita and Obelisk again. These Charming Cobras aren't really Metal so much as Punk, but they've earned a reputation for bringing a kick ass performance. Torn Between Worlds is old-school Death-Metal, and they're epic as fuck. Soul To Rest is also pretty amazing, and for some reason they remind me of Whitechapel. I don't know much about the other bands, but it's only $7 so what's the worst that can happen? This show isn't at Warehouse 21 but at Sol (37 Fire Place, mapquest it), so that means there's an open bar for those with I.D.

And the next day, we have the Santa Fe half of 2 Days 2 Cities Levelled. This one is at Warehouse 21, so no drinking please. Show starts early, like 5 PM, $10 at the door. I don't feel like listing all the bands, so here's a flyer.

And furthermore...Wait, what time is it?! Damn, it's already 6:05. Sorry everyone, gotta fly.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

To Be A Rock And Not To Roll

Like Metal itself, the origin of skateboarding is disputable. However, even their debatable beginnings were around the same generation... the late 60's. For example, it was at this time that a bunch of California surfer dudes wanted to ride sidewalks instead of waves. I will never tire of harping on this point: The surfer lifestyle is intertwined with the story of Metal. (Thanks, Sam Dunn!) An extreme sport needs extreme music, a soundtrack to your athletic exploits. Surf rock was an influence on heavy Metal, with twangy guitars cranked high enough to simulate the thrill of riding a killer wave.

This symbiotic relationship eventually evolved into huge events such as Vans Warped Tour, where an insane rock concert was sponsored by a skater company. This may not be related exclusively to Metal, and in fact is more affiliated with Punk, but the fact remains that crazy stunts deserve some crazy tunes. Before Warped Tour and other giant festivals, skater punks ran rampant throughout the west coast during the 80's. The style of skate rock was more thrashy and aggressive than it's surf rock predecessor, which makes sense because wiping out on asphalt packs more punch than wiping out in water.

 Like Metal, skating is cathartic. It is the synthesis of control and pain. The skater's balance (or lack thereof) is the only factor on which the pain depends. Like the teachings of Eastern Philosophy, the act of skating forces one to aknowledge only the current state, the "now", the immediate surroundings. The sketchy sidewalk behind is as irrelevant as the unleashed German Shepard ahead, especially when the present has you sliding into an impending sixteen wheeler. What a semi-truck was doing in a residential area, I have yet to understand. I don't understand the Bhagavad Gita either. My only understanding is the empirical knowledge of gravity, sinister though it may be. Without gravity, I have nothing against which I can rebel. Except maybe death...

Which brings us to the Yin-Yang. It is a notorious symbol of balanced yet opposing forces, famous almost to the point of cliche`. But like the fusion of Metal and Punk, the fusion of Death and Life combines into an artistic rebellion against established rules. Just like a Yin-Yang, my skateboard embodies this harmony between extremes. The relationship of instability to balance is a balance in and of itself. Constant awareness is necessary to maintain constant equilibrium. Rogue gravel on the sidewalk, like eternal truth within the world, is invisible to those who do not seek it.

With Dio's namesake etched in my griptape, this is my blood-letting ritual to appease him. No, I am not over his death, and I don't plan on getting over it any time soon. My deck is a hand-me-down of a hand-me-down, abused and weaponized almost to annihilation. I have the motor skills of a twelve-year-old on amphetamines. The streets and sidewalks of Santa Fe are a cruel and pitiful mockery of the pavement industry. I am caught in a rolling death-trap. I've never been happier.  \m/

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Band Review: The Screamagers

"Centipedes seem to exert a weird fascination on the morbid apetites of the hysterical and insane." -J.L Cloudsley-Thompson. I guess it's true, because I happened to be researching the damn creatures for the past 3 hours or so. At any rate, whether by divine providence or the clusterfuck of the World Wide Web, I discovered something called Centipede Records. I guess it's some kind of indie label? Well, these dudes are signed under them, and that's good enough for me.

In a nutshell, it's pop-punk about zombies and stuff. The long story, though, reveals elements of diverse genres and influences. The Surf-Rock toward which they hint is inextricably linked with the story of Metal, with loud twangy guitars and minimal chord progression. The Screamagers also embody traits of 60's Doo-wop/Pop numbers, with simple catchy riffs bordering on early Punk.  Hell, even Napalm Death seems to be an inspiration, what with the quickies that last little over  minute, if that. Subject matter is largely based on Vincent Price and the Hollywood sensationalism of zombies. The album art is indicative of early Punk, but still nods toward the quaint teenager-in-a-poodle-skirt motif that permeates the musical style.

Morbid, whimsical, spooky, and weird, I think I just found my new obsession. Four stars outta five.


Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Punk As Fuck

This weekend was wack. On Friday, there was the kick-ass Metal show at Warehouse 21 (see previous post for details). Then there was a Punk Rock baby shower on Sunday (Congrats, Sophie and Jay!). And in between, there was this untitled epic concert on Saturday.  
It was a bizarre, mysterious show from the get-go. First of all, the concert didn't have a title. Then the venue was some creepy studio in the middle of a freaking industrial zone, and the owner of said studio is still of unknown identity. On top of all that Hills-Have-Eyes-esque atmosphere, I had never heard of the band Disasterman and I didn't know what to expect. Nothing is worse than paying five dollars for a show only to be disappointed, let alone in the backdrop of a damn Z-grade horror movie.

The crimson glow on the cinder-blocks was a constant reminder that I was quite literally in the red-light district. Thankfully, each of the bands rocked to high heaven, and somehow or another I survived, despite being drunk as a skunk and mind-altered in ways that, for legal reasons, shall remain undisclosed. What I will forevermore refer to as "The Truck And Tree Incident" played a major role in my mindset before the show even started, so let's break down the night into manage-able chunks, starting with Obelisk.

Ah, yes, Obelisk. I love these dudes to death, yet I still have difficulty explaining their sound. Their self-described "Party Sludge" is close enough. The Metal style is caustic, dance-able, energetic and brooding. The instruments are a little doom-y with a cool groove, and the vocals are intense as can be. I'm still not doing them justice, but I assure you that they put on one hell of a live show. They were the perfect band to kick-start the night.

The Elected Officials take righteous indignation, set it to the melody of playground ditties, and amplify it to high heaven. They embody hardcore, Punk-as-fuck, “Oi Oi Oi” music with a message. They hit the stage like a Molotov cocktail hits a skyscraper, conquering the venue with their wicked charisma. Rebels with a cause have never sounded so good.

Next up was Disasterman. I can't tell you enough how suspicious I am of duos. Prior experience has taught me that such ensembles are risky. However, my expectations (or lack thereof) were defied. To say I was "pleasantly suprised" is a drastic understatement. "Blown away" is a little more accurate. Rarely have I seen two dudes play with enough talent and energy to hold their own against full-size bands.

Headlining was Torn Between Worlds. These local legends are a taste of dirty, thrashy Death Metal at it's finest. Every show of theirs results in lethal mosh-pits. I'm sure at least one of my  head-injuries owes its existence to these guys. Their music is superb, but the mosh-pits are even better. The night ended with a bang, an immaculate conclusion to a concert such as this.

And on top of all that, there was booze, soda, and frito pies. Have you ever drunkenly devoured New Mexico food at a Metal show? Trust me, if you do, it will the best night of your life. This show was one for the books, no doubt. Five stars outta five.





Friday, January 20, 2012

Monster Bash

Once more, I must apologize for my hiatus from writing, though in my defense, this particular digression was fueled by neither drugs nor laziness. Instead, I got my ass kicked in a mosh pit, and have been in recovery ever since. I'm mostly intact, sans a few teeth and higher brain functions, but otherwise alive and well. Let's take a flashback to that infamous night, the legendary Monster Bash of Warehouse 21.



The Advocates were mass-appealing funky rock in the vein of Rage Against The Machine. They played with enough charisma and talent to make most local rock bands envious, a feat even more impressive when you consider this was their first live show. On the other hand, being unknown, they didn't have a large audience, yet those who were present will probably become loyal fans.

    Next on the bill were local legends Grinkai, infamous Death Metallers who boast both brutality and musicianship. Although their music is of an abrasive, barn-burning variety, the distorted riffs hint toward some kind of catchy melody. The band has gained notoriety in the local scene for their unique brand of marketable psychosis. There's no one else like them, for better or for worse.And as usual, I loved every second of it.

    HN-88 claims to be kid-friendly, but they're really Blink 182 in disguise. Yet it is a thin veil, and I have come to expect innuendos, graphic violence, and other teenage shenanigans I know and love from 90's Pop-Punk. So they're not kid-friendly so much as a magnet for rebellious teenage girls, or burnt out Metalheads filling the void with guilty pleasures (such as myself).  It was like Vans Warped Tour all over again.

     Finally, Savage Wizdom took the stage. If you don't know who they are, either read more of my shit, move to Santa Fe, or download all their songs. It's worth it, trust me. It was during this last set that the pits got even more rowdy. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but I'm pretty sure people got knocked out cold and had to be rescued by their friends. On my end of the deal, I got a bloody nose, a few bruises, and though I can technically eat solid stuff, it hurts like hell. Guess I'll just have to consume liquids... *glug glug glug*



So, ultimately, there was Funk, Death Metal, Pop-Punk, and traditional Heavy Metal all in one night, not to mention hot chicks, booze, and grievous injuries. Hell yeah, can't wait 'til next year! Four stars outta five!











Monday, November 7, 2011

Machine-Eye Photography: An Image Caught in Time

Unlike most photographers, Miguel Chavez captures movement, not moments. The  atmosphere of live music is reflected in his candid shots of mid-concert mayhem. He captures the definitive examples of mosh pits, of mass hysteria, the unison in entropy that epitomizes the art of concerts. Prolonged poses are rare in his art.  Even the standstills are obviously candid, a fleeting pause between motions. His photography has been featured at galleries such as Warehouse 21, a match made in heaven as W21 moonlights as a venue at which many such concerts take place. Artistic, punk-as-fuck, and all around awesome photographs.









Thursday, November 3, 2011

High Octane Hell Ride: The spiritual side of moshing

     A mosh pit is a spiritual experience, the name itself implies descent, as if into hell or to Plato's cave. It's almost a Karmic endeavor, purging yourself of emotional pain by inflicting physical pain on another, and they do the same to you. Although everyone is pitted against each other, punching, kicking, and slamming indiscriminately, it is mutually consenting. Genuine hostility has no place among fellow metalheads. The reaction in a pit is alchemy, melding and mixing metal to create immortality. When a band member has suffered a loss, whether of his family or a friend, he may request a mosh pit to alleviate the death. This practice is a modernization of ancient Greek funeral games, which simultaneously celebrate the individual while mourning his departure. It is competetive, yet benevolent. In death, the blood congeals, so you want to see it spilled from the audience. Too many people die in their sleep, so wake the fuck up. Your pain is psychological, so it will be dispersed among the brave in its far more bearable physical manifestation. We voluntarily thrash for those who can no longer move. Our hair spins and falls, oscillates between gravity and the rebellion against such, pulses violently as if to fling the negativity out of our skulls. Over the heavy kickbeat and wicked guitar, we raise our heads upright for a nanosecond, lock eyes with a stranger, anyone from a cute punk girl with a lisp, to a muscular gangster whose face is obscured by scars. You make eye contact, smirk mischievously, and nod with grim acknowlegdement of your fate. You both sprint forward, teeth bared and arms crossed, bounce back on impact and crash into a bystander. He pushes you with his fists, out of pure instinct. He will pick you up when you fall just to shove you back in, then you'll feel the unmistakable strike of an elbow in your sternum, you trip over the stage, sight obscured by hair and blood, the lights are blinking and flashing to further disorient you. The sounds are distorted and echoing, you're dizzy and confused. This is the kind of high energy disoriented adrenaline rush that most people have to pop pills in order to achieve. You savor the sadomasochistic bliss on the filthy floor, when suddenly you are unceremoniously siezed by the armpits, yanked upright, and crammed back into the cesspool.

The Battle Of The Bands

      The Albuqurque Battle Of The Bands was promoted by Gorilla Music, hosted by the infamous Launchpad, and featured many promising musicians with the potential to go far in the industry. Gorilla, although a sleazy behemoth of a company, gives something back to the artists of whom it takes advantage. The contest featured no cash award, but instead boasted the “Opportunity” to do further collaborations with Gorilla. Despite this disappointing, self-proclaimed  prize, the Battle Of The Bands brought quality local music to a wide audience. Some audience members, such as myself, have the ability to give such bands better (and paid!) opportunities to perform. I would have never met these artists if a corporate scam didn’t organize the Battle. I owe them some begrudging, yet well-deserved, gratitude. Thanks, guys!

Glad that's over. The artists who performed at the Battle Of The Bands are as follows:

Skarva Av Glas opened up the night with some gnarly Black Metal from hell. The sexy female guitarist was the crown jewel in this otherwise mediocre band. This is a Black Metal group easily forgotten among the rest that try to offend rather than entertain. They have potential, but their performance was overall underwhelming.

Embelisk was a band bouncing with energy. Funky beats juxtaposed over a hard-rock backdrop created a cool atmosphere of chill, crowd pleasing music. Their stage presence was playful, the intent was mischievous. Embelisk was a measured, healthy dose of radio-friendly Rock.

The Elected Officials take righteous indignation, set it to the melody of playground ditties, and amplify it to high heaven. They embody hardcore, Punk-as-fuck, “Oi Oi Oi” music with a message. They hit the stage like a Molotov cocktail hits a skyscraper, conquering the venue with their wicked charisma. Rebels with a cause have never sounded so good.

Terror Race combines elements of modern music with inspiration from rock classics. The result is Metal that appeals even to people who don’t like the genre. On the other hand, true Metalheads may end up feeling slighted. They are certainly gifted with profound musical ability, yet they are trapped in a Local scene with a surplus of high-school Metal bands. With some practice, they will never again get lost in the mix.

Gnarly Slur is comprised of two musicians (A bassist and a guitarist/singer), and a synthesizer.  The style oscillates from clean vocals to death growls, always tastefully and usually seamlessly. However, as stage presence is an integral aspect of live music, the synthetic drum-beats are distracting and somewhat clumsy. Other than the lack of a proper musician on drums, Gnarly slur was an enjoyable taste of modern Metal in one of its many incarnations.

Night of Revenge is a band of high-schoolers writing about video-game zombies, hot girls, and mosh pits. They do so tactfully, with surprisingly phenomenal results. The instruments are distorted, heavy, and catchy. The vocals are usually screams or growls, with occasional clean singing. It’s great head-banging Metal in the vein of Bullet for my Valentine. The clean vocals could use some practice, but otherwise the band is extremely talented.

Parachute Picnic was fodder to please the unwashed masses. A large crowd of aforementioned unwashed masses gathered to flail to their Pop-Punk serenades, music far too sissy to warrant a proper, dignified pit. It was catchy and danceable, yet little more than formula music for mall-rats who admire cuteness instead of talent.

Severkill is a bunch of middle-aged men playing slow, bluesy, Heavy Metal their own way. The instruments sound very old school , Black Sabbath-esque, yet the vocals are modernized with growls and screams. Spooky stage presence and cool lyrics are the mercury icing on the Metal cake. It’s pretty cool to see guys their age rocking out with the best of them.

Cathartic Dissent was Hardcore Punk hailing from Santa Fe, bringing high-octane mosh music to the stage. This being their first show, they performed magnificently. They were raw enough to be Punk-as-fuck, refined enough to draw a significant audience. Cathartic Dissent is a refreshing bite of plain ol’ Punk Rock in a local scene that prides itself on gimmicks.

True Joint Featuring Relik One emulates the kind of Rap/Hip-Hop that dominates modern airwaves. They are enjoyable enough, despite the predictable “Fuck bitches/Smoke weed” type lyrics that were peppered throughout their set list. Many teenage girls expressed their high-pitched approval toward these artists, further obscuring what aesthetic value there was to be enjoyed. Not bad, they were worth seeing in live concert.

     Such was the experience of the Battle of the Bands. However, in the selfsame concert, two acts were featured who were not competing in the battle. They were “Headlining” (if it is proper to call it that, in the context of a Battle) because they have already been established as worthy artists. These bands have risen to prominence because they have proved their great talent and dedication to Metal, music, and artistic worth in general.

Defleshment is dirty, thrashy Death Metal to rival the best in the industry. Their music instigates only the rowdiest of mosh pits. Even those who don’t jump in the slam-dance have to headbang, and everyone raises their Devil-horns high. The music is contagious, and determined to bang its way into the heads of the audience. This is essentially old school rocker Metal tempered for modern taste. No-one escapes a Defleshment performance unscathed.

Rose Beneath is a streamlined, contemporary gem of Melodic Metal. Screams and growls mesh with the operatic clean vocals, echoing the likes of Killswitch Engage. The lyrics are intriguing, the breakdowns are pristine. Rose Beneath dominates the stage with style and charisma. They know how to be theatrical without being melodramatic. An immaculate conclusion to a concert such as this.