This is Your Brain on Metallica

Metallica are probably given more attention than any other metal band. Other than Ozzy solo and w/Black Sabbath, it's hard to think of more universally-admired headbangers (You don't hear people say, "I'm not much of a metalhead, but I like Slayer.") Nearly all the respect they get comes from their actual music--how Kill 'Em All was faster and louder (and better) than anything that came before it, how the Black Album broke metal into the mainstream, how ...And Justice for All's ambitious compositions took them to a new level of musicianship, how Ride the Lightning reinvented thrash metal and Master of Puppets perfected it, etc, etc, etc. But not enough people realize that Metallica are as much of a powerhouse lyrically as they are musically--they're not intellectuals, but lyrically they're more profound than 'intellectual circle' groups such as Pavement and the Flaming Lips. Plus, the fact that they addressed inner human turmoil, the flaws in the justice system, and the atrocities/necessities of governments and war distinguished them from the hair metal legions as much as the fact Metallica's music was harder, heavier, and defiant of conventional song structures. It's no wonder that young Kurt Cobain was putting Metallica songs on mix tapes in the late '80s.



A strong testament to the greatness of Metallica's (specifically, James Hetfield's) lyrics comes from the Philosophy and Pop Culture series, which has previously explored the intellectual depth of 'The Simpsons,' Star Wars, and Bob Dylan, among others. The Metallica installment, subtitled A Crash Course in Brain Surgery, is a fine piece of summer reading, perfect for both die-hard Metallica fans and people who want to know more about the band without getting into the music, which can be pretty intimidating.

Various authors and professors cooked up twenty chapters that philosophize Metallica and Metalicize philosophy. Several writers, including series editor Will Irwin, write about James Hetfield's philosophical lyrics, including his skepticism and rejection of Christian values ('The God that Failed'), the struggle of morality ('Unforgiven'), the search for authenticity ('The Struggle Within'), and nonconformity (see Metallica's career). The mind/body relationship explored in 'One' and the search for meaning in life in 'Fade to Black' are topics that philosophers have tackled for a long time, and the eloquence and simplicity (as in saying something profound in a simple way) with which Metallica take on these subjects is as awe-inspiring as their ability to turn out the sickest hooks in metal history. As writers, Metallica face many of the thoughts and sentiments that Nietzsche, Kant, Kierkegaard, and others struggled with, and coupled with the fact that their music rocks, that's why so many people like them. It's also part of why people don't like Metallica--like Socrates, Metallica have long been accused of corrupting the youth, and as with Socrates, people are slowly realizing that gadfly/rebel James Hetfield had it right.

A few writers in Metallica and Philosophy look at Metallica's history to raise questions--is the band that made Kill 'Em All the same band that made St. Anger? What, if anything, do fans and Metallica owe each other? None of the writers are blindly in love with the band, and the Napster fiasco, unflattering moments in Some Kind of Monster, and their mediocre recent albums are all explored with good measure. This is part of how the book does Metallica justice--no band that's as willing to expose the dark underbelly as Metallica is deserves anything less. Compare their depiction of narcotics in Master of Puppets vs. the glam bands', or Metallica's depiction of themselves in Some Kind of Monster vs. self-consciously malevolent black metal bands, and it's apparent that this band doesn't sugar-coat anything. Neither should anyone analyzing them.

There are a few factual errors in the book (one author confuses 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' with 'One,' another refers to 'Megadeath'), but those are forgivable since the book was clearly written by people who know and worship Metallica. The few mistakes can be taken as mind-slips and not as indications of the authors' naivite. In other words, there's nothing on the level of the metal experts at Time Magazine mixing up the Black Album with ...And Justice for All in their recent All-Time 100 Albums list.

Metallica and Philosophy is a great read, and highly recommended to the philosopher who wants to better understand Metallica and the headbanger who wants a better grasp on philosophy.

Bring Your Daughter...to Summer Slaughter

Free Ozzfest sold out almost immediately, and just about every great metalfest is taking place exclusively overseas this year, so Summer Slaughter is as great a metal tour package as you're going to get. There's no superstar headliner, but instead you get some of the best upcoming metal bands in the world all on one stage, each allotted a short set to give die-hards and potential new fans their allowance money's worth. With eight bands on the bill and sets averaging 30 minutes per band, each act really fought to leave a lasting impression; to be that band everyone knew they had to see again.

It's hard to imagine that most of these bands ever rocked harder than they did on the last night of the tour, July 8 at BB King's. Necrophagist, Decapitated, Cephalic Carnage, Cattle Decapitation, The Faceless, As Blood Runs Black, Ion Dissonance, and Beneath the Massacre all rocked like there was no tomorrow (which there wasn't), and if none of the openers were quite in the league of Decapitated and Necrophagist, there was no band that made you wish you'd saved your money for Sounds of the Underground instead.



Of the openers, Ion Dissonance stood out w/their Dillinger-influenced math-metal and stagediving, but the first noticeable jump in quality started with Metal Blade heroes Cattle Decapitation, San Diego-based pranksters whose sound is somewhere between the Locust's abrupt, noisy blasts and Converge's harder than hardcore metal. Vocalist Travis Ryan, who manages to evoke Jim Breuer without looking or sounding like him, used the short breaks between songs to mock the audience and the other bands on the bill, and the band backed him up at a very high volume. Supposedly the songs have some sort of misanthropic value (Twilight Zone fans can chuckle about them naming an album To Serve Man), but that was lost in the abrasive, relentless, and frankly, pretty awesome music.



Followed by something coming from the speakers that sounded like the Spanish-speaking voices on "Lady Sniff" by the Butthole Surfers, Cephalic Carnage brought their machine gun-paced grindcore to the stage at BB King's. If most of what they played was from their new album, Xenosapien, then they can officially claim that they've made one of the year's best records. Cephalic Carnage's head-spinning, inventive metal never gets crushed under their technical virtuosity, and they dominated both worlds by creating memorable music that never compromised their skill. Musicians as great as Cephalic Carnage could be excused in some circles for making masturbatory guitar nerd metal, but thankfully they use their skills to make technical metal worthy of their home at Relapse records. I'd never heard a Cephalic Carnage song before that night, but I was sorry that their set ended after only a half hour.



The show could've ended then satisfactorily, but like the gift that keeps on giving, Decapitated launched into their set almost as soon as I realized they were onstage. Promoting their crushing new album, Organic Hallucinosis, they opened their pulverizing set with "A Poem About an Old Prison Man," which rocks so hard that it can make you forget that the lyrics were taken from Charles Manson (I don't mind that they're paying tribute to a scumbag, I mind that they're taking lyrics from someone whose music sucks). However, there's no crappy poem that wouldn't sound sound great at this speed and volume, and Decapitated tore through a frantic, monster-riffed show that ensured their status as one of the most exciting metal bands in the world and the most brutal Polish import since Andrew Golota. Near the end of their set, the band promised to return to New York soon, with Amon Amarth. I'm there.



Most headliners would have been thoroughly blown away by Decapitated, but Necrophagist were definitely up for the task. Lead guitarist/grunter Muhammed Suiçmez is an insanely proficient guitarist whose lightning-paced arpeggios reflected his classical influence. If that weren't enough, he tends to quote a few measures of classical music in his songs (also done by Spinal Tap in "Heavy Duty"), and Prokofiev sounded so good coming from a guitar that I later went online to find out who he was. Live, Necrophagist played their breakthrough album Epitaph in its entirety, and the German/Turkish Suiçmez embodied the standard death metal vocalist by introducing each song in a growled, indecipherable manner before giving his elaborate compositions the live show they deserved. However, if anyone could steal the show from him, it was new drummer Marco Minnemann, who pushed the band every step of the way and treated the crowd to what was perhaps the greatest drum solo I've ever seen. I'm no drums expert, but I can't think of a more exciting metal drummer than Minneman--just look at how sick this guy is!



Unbelievable!

As Necrophagist ended the night, members from the opening acts all crowded the stage to pay their respects and wave goodbye to the crowd and to each other. I'd seen nothing like it since last year's Gigantour, which was also the last time I saw so many great metal bands on one stage. The future of metal is in good hands--see you all next year, hopefully.

Q. Are We Not Pumpkins?

More importantly, is the music still good?



Zeitgeist, the first album of all new Pumpkins music in seven years, doesn't really feel like a Smashing Pumpkins album. It shouldn't matter that two of the band's original members are M.I.A.; after all, it's no secret that remaining Pumpkins Billy Corgan and Jimmy Chamberlin recorded pretty much the band's entire output by themselves. But as a band, the '90s Pumpkins transcended being the project of one of the most distinct singer/guitarist/songwriters in rock history and the drumming virtuoso who brought a live, spontaneous quality to songs with up to 40 overdubbed guitar parts. Kurt Cobain and Eddie Vedder destroyed the conventional idea of a rock star by seeming like guys you'd smoke pot with in the boys' locker room after school, but the Smashing Pumpkins stood out from Nirvana and Pearl Jam by seeming like they'd dropped in from another planet entirely. (And maybe they did?)

The Pumpkins were a smash because their music freaking ruled, but they were as memorable and intriguing visually as they were musically, and no matter how little D'Arcy and James Iha contributed to the actual music, their respective quirkiness and charisma played a role in the band's success. It's no wonder that both of them are more recognizable than many guys with actual songwriting capabilities, like Stone Gossard, Kim Thayil, or Jerry Cantrell.

Regardless of whether or not Zeitgeist counts as a real Pumpkins album, it has some very good music. The pounding 'Doomsday Clock' rocks even harder than it did in the Transformers movie, 'United States' grabs your ears for all ten minutes that it's playing, and the droning, hypnotic 'Bleeding the Orchid' could've found a spot on the Pumpkins' most underrated album, Adore. Some tracks, like the first single 'Tarantula' aren't in the league of anything on Siamese Dream or Mellon Collie, but offer more nerve and verve than the most recent music by Chris Cornell, Scott Weiland, Marilyn Manson, or Perry Farrell (featuring Fergie--ralph!) To Corgan/Chamberlin's credit, they can still rock without sounding like they're forcing it.



Even at its best, Zeitgeist is spotty. Corgan has always been excessive and self-indulgent, and those qualities allowed him to pull off a two-disc, genre-obliterating masterpiece with enough great outtakes to fill up a box set in his songwriting prime. However, with his creativity running dry, Corgan's inability to check himself is losing it's appeal. 'That's the Way (My Love Is)' wouldn't even see a b-side release from the '90s Pumpkins, and 'Starz' is one of the weakest songs Corgan's ever written. Elsewhere, Corgan's transition from angst-ridden alt-rock icon to incensed political crusader is not as smooth as Trent Reznor's earlier this year--'United States' is compelling due to the dynamic chemistry between Corgan and Chamberlin and not the song's "Revolution, revolution blues" lyrics. Elsewhere, 'For God and Country' is a synth and keyboard-heavy musing on both topics that says little about either, and the album's cover is probably meant to say something about global warming or some other way that we're hastening the apocalypse. It looks more like a scene from Planet of the Apes.



Zeitgeist is not an embarrassment--even when Corgan's boldness takes him further than his muse is willing to go, his inconsistency confirms his status as one of the most exciting figures in alternative rock. The problem is that Zeitgeist doesn't add anything to the Pumpkins' legacy--nobody is going to see the Pumpkins this year hoping they play 'Tarantula' instead of 'Cherub Rock,' Zero, or 'Muzzle.' As far as Billy Corgan goes, it's a reaffirmation of mad scientist-esque brilliance, a step up from his mediocre solo album, and another sign that we'll be still arguing about him for years to come.

God Save the Queens

Queens of the Stone Age just may be the coolest band in rock today. Not the best, although they're just about as good as any mainstream rock band you're likely to hear today, but really really cool. If the Queens were a movie star, they'd be Lauren Bacall. Their brand of (for lack of a better term) 'stoner rock,' doesn't scare away hipsters by being as aggressive or as licentious as some of their peers, and metalheads can enjoy them because they're not too cool to act like they're enjoying themselves. Which makes them even cooler. Their newest album, Era Vulgaris, may be their coolest yet, though it's not their best.



Bandleader Josh Homme is wholly responsible for the Queens' coolness--now that he controls the Queens as much as Trent Reznor controls NIN, his composed, laconic persona drips from all sides of Era Vulgaris. Having already cemented his stature in the hard rock world before he could legally drink (you owe it to yourself to pick up his masterpiece with Kyuss, Blues for the Red Sun), the prolific Homme has spent the past decade doing whatever he pleases, tossing off various side projects (The Desert Sessions, Eagles of Death Metal, etc.) and guests appearances (Mastodon, Local H, etc.) without so much breaking a sweat. Homme's perpetual creativity played has played a great role in everything he's done, but there's no denying that his collaborators have took him to an even greater height, and that's where we have to consider Era Vulgaris.

From the moment the album starts, with the hard-grooving 'Turnin' on the Screw,' Queens-lovers (particularly fans of their hit 'No One Knows') will notice the absence of Dave Grohl, whose busy, energetic drumming has been replaced by the competent but robotic Joey Castillo. Grohl may be too much to ask for right now--he's pretty busy with the Foo Fighters, among other projects--but Castillo never pushes Homme the way Grohl did, and it's hard not to wonder how much harder Era Vulgaris would've rocked with Grohl's monster fills. Also still AWOL is Nick Oliveri, QOTSA's undisciplined, loose-cannon bassist whose unpredictability perfectly complemented Homme's coolness on the first three Queens albums. Homme proved that he doesn't need Oliveri or Grohl to make great records on 2005's Lullabies to Paralyze, a diverse, storybook-inspired gem that was a great as anything he'd ever made, and now that he's got nothing to prove, he doesn't. Yet Era Vulgaris still packs a wallop.

Homme makes the most of Grohl and Oliveri's absence with simplified songs, such as Desert Sessions leftover 'Make it wit Chu' and 'Misfit Love,' both of which sound more like the minimalist Eagles of Death Metal than anything else the Queens have done. The band is creative enough to make a great song out of two or three chords, especially the sizzling single 'Sick, Sick, Sick,' and the backwards 'Teen Spirit'-sounding '3's and 7's,' and Homme's pedal capabilities can make the less interesting tracks sound good while they're playing. It's not as seamless as their classic 'Rated R' or as diverse as 'Lullabies,' but there's no denying that Era Vulgaris is an addictive, enjoyable album from one of rock's finest talents.

QOTSA made one of my all-time favorite music videos--check it out...

Hail the Mighty Emperor

Emperor's show at BB King's on June 1st raised several questions. Why are these black metal legends reuniting for only three US shows rather than a full-fledged tour? Why are they playing tiny venues w/$60 tickets? Are Ihsahn, Samoth, and co. ever going to make music together again?

However, one thing about Emperor that's never been in question is that they rock. Unsurprisingly, metalheads came from all over the country (and maybe further) to pay their respects. After all, a metal band's legacy is like the baseball diamond in Field of Dreams--if you build it, they will come.



Entering the venue to the crowd's deafening chants of "EMPEROR, EMPEROR," I instantly pitied whatever opener I was about to see get slaughtered by the gung-ho Emperor fans. But the opening acts must've been dealt a premature death by the aggressive fans, because Emperor took the stage much earlier than anticipated, wasting no time in getting down to business. Emperor opened with 'Into the Infinity of Thoughts' and thereby banished any question of their greatness with an assault of shrieked vocals and heavy guitars mixed with just the right amount of symphonic keyboards (read: not enough to sound like Children of Bodom). From the start, it was clear that Emperor would grace us with the black metal sound that they made their own. It was almost as if they were only coming back to say, "Keep trying, everyone else--we did it best."

Singer/guitarist Ihsahn said very little the whole night, barely raising his voice when not singing and not once turning into the showman he sounded like on Emperor's live album. Nowadays, Emperor as gimmick-free as any black metal band you'll ever see--no more corpsepaint, stage props, or costumes for these guys, and they certainly need none of that to enhance their show. The minimal stage set and lack of audience interaction would seem like an apathetic move by most metal bands playing a set of older songs, but such additions to Emperor's show would've been completely unnecessary. The music did the talking, and the audience showed their thanks by shouting along to every word of 'Thus Spake the Nightspirit,' 'Inno a Satana,' and every other Emperor song which would take about 5,000 listens to understand what Isahn is actually saying.

With a few exceptions, such as the melodic 'Elegy of Icarus,' Emperor's set was comprised almost entirely of tracks from their first two albums, the classic Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk and their debut Into the Nightside Eclipse. Their decision to focus on their earliest songs will give little hope to anyone craving new material from these guys, but like many great bands, Emperor could play songs from their first few albums for the rest of their lives and still draw crowds.

Emperor capped the evening with the genre-defining 'I am the Black Wizards' and the lightning-paced 'Ye Entrancemperium,' two of their earliest songs as well as two of their best. If they never reach those heights again, it's hard to imagine a black metal band that could. And when their live performances are so awesome, who cares?



Piercingmetal.com posted some pretty sweet pictures from the show...

'Glorious Times' for Sleepytime Gorilla Museum

Exploring the world of Sleepytime Gorilla Museum is like delving into the works of David Lynch—the more you know about it, the less you feel like you understand it. Learning more will only leave you with more questions, and you're only option is to return to the music again and again, picking up something new every time you hear it but rarely grasping more than you already knew.



Sleepytime's music is hard to describe because there's not much to compare them to. They're as theatrical as Nick Cave and as unpredictable as Mr. Bungle, and they're also one of the most distinct ensembles making music today. Of course, their originality wouldn't be worth considering if their music didn't rock so much--see their new album, In Glorious Times.

In Glorious Times is probably the least-heavy of all their albums, although it's no more accessible than their previous releases, Of Natural History and Grand Opening and Closing. In Glorious Times is also the most album-like record they've made yet--if one were to listen to the whole thing on one track, a la Prince's Lovesexy, it'd be difficult to make out where some tracks end and others begin. In the ominous opener "The Companions," singer/guitarist Nils Frykdahl croons over a glockenspiel and what sounds like a ticking clock (or is it a time bomb?) in a 10-minute epic which takes on a chaotic, percussion-dominated turn before subsiding into calmness. But lest the listener get comfortable, SGM hits from all sides with "Helpless Corpses Enactment," a beast equipped with some of the most aggressive violin playing you're likely to ever hear (courtesy of the inimitable Carla Kihlstedt) and rapidly barked lyrics reoccupied from Finnegan's Wake (courtesy of the inimitable James Joyce, who seems considerably less pretentious and easier to get through when applied to relentless drumming and 12-string guitar).



Sleepytime's inability to fit into a set style of music makes their records a blast to hear. As with their previous albums, In Glorious Times has no safety zone. One could relax while listening to portions of "Angle of Repose" or "The Salt Crown," and start a mosh pit other parts of the same songs. A lesser outfit would seem unfocused creating such adventuresome music, but Sleepytime Gorilla Museum are successful in making it sound natural. This isn't a group of musicians saying, "Look at how weird we can be by wearing costumes and playing bizarre, homemade instruments!"

So what makes the Museum succeed where others, including SGM labelmates Stolen Babies (whom SGM bassist Dan Rathburn produced), Kihlstedt's enjoyable but inconsistent project The Book of Knots (which, in fairness, was alternately botched and boosted by its guest artists), and parts of Björk's newest album have stumbled? The answer's in the music: Sleepytime don't just sound exciting and inventive, their songs themselves are exciting. Tracks like 'The Ossuary' would sound great no matter how they're arranged, and that's an even more significant reason behind Sleepytime's greatness than the fact that they play instruments like an 'electric pancreas' or a 'nyckelharpa.'

To paraphrase Cypress Hill, "Sleepytime Gorilla Museum live this shit."