Lemmy and Dave Lombardo, "Stand by Me"

For Ben E. King.

Fantômas, The Director's Cut

One of the only "supergroups" that ever lived up to that adjective was Fantômas, the avant-metal quartet starring Faith No More and Mr. Bungle's Mike Patton, the Melvins' King Buzzo, Slayer's Dave Lombardo and Mr. Bungle/Secret Chiefs 3's Trevor Dunn.



On 2001's The Director's Cut, they drastically reworked movie scores from a lineup that reads like a Kim's Video Employee Picks section. Some of the most acclaimed movie composers in history get turned into experimetal (sic) freakouts--would you like some grindcore with your "Godfather?" How about Mike Patton's creepiest, child-like singing for "Rosemary's Baby" or "The Night of the Hunter?" Stream it here and see how many of the scores you can recognize--it's about as hard as finding old blues songs in Led Zeppelin II.

How Crazy is Too Crazy?

I saw Axl Rose perform twice this week--once in a club that Mungo Jerry is headlining next month, and again atop a sprawling, three-day music festival, which, as Chris Weingarten aptly put it, Axl could headline "if he was backed by a Discman and a sparkler."  The main tying factor between these shows was the pre-show discussions--how late would Axl be? Would he show up at all? Would he play for only 15 minutes? Maybe at midnight, if we were lucky?

Yet no one, even those who paid $150 to be in a 600-capacity room with a singular rock star, seemed frustrated. It was all part of the show, part of the crazy, wild experience that comes with following one of the most mythical artists of the past 30 years. If he was late (20 minutes the first night) or surprised us (early?! the second night?!), we got the Axl Experience. The course of true Axl never did run smooth.

Also this week, Dave Mustaine released Megadeth's 14th album, Super Collider, and ejected a fan in England with a series of homophobic taunts. His words weren't anything you wouldn't hear on any middle school playground in America. But coupled with Mustaine's past year of praising Rick Santorum, outing himself as a birther, denying both gay rights and evolution, and spouting that the Aurora shooting were staged by our President to pass gun laws, his banter emphasized his status as an utterly deplorable human being. And this week, Super Collider is on track to sell 30,000 copies, Megadeth's lowest first-week numbers in decades.

Super Collider also received poor reviews, but that didn't stop Countdown to Extinction, which was a rightful smash and is now a metal classic, 20 years later. Metalheads, except for the ones who also write, famously don't pay attention to reviews anyway. But nobody wants to buy Megadeth albums anymore because Dave Mustaine is crazy. He has a supremely loyal fanbase, some of us whom have picked up the previous thirteen albums through artistic missteps, the advancement of file-sharing and even Mustaine's own horrific behavior. All of his most misguided and malicious nonsense is separable from the perfect thrash metal masterpiece he gave us in the '90s. But with his God-fearing preaching and conspiracies showing up in his lyrics and stage banter, fewer and fewer people want to support him. Every time I see him talk about politics, I half-expect him to keel over like the William Jennings Bryan character in Inherit the Wind.

But why is it this way? Why is it still OK to like one inflammatory, redheaded metal icon and not the other?* Why is Axl's use of the word "faggot" attributed to white trash ignorance and mental illness, but Mustaine's is attributed to homophobia? Because Axl performed with Elton John at the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert? Because he's a sexually abused child who doesn't know any better? Because, unlike Mustaine, he doesn't have the pretenses of being a Christian? Because his music is more popular than Dave Mustaine's? Even watching the videos above, two shots of great metal frontmen going off on fans, one of them seems insecure to me and the other looks like a bully.

People tend to forgive their idols. Folks who complain about Vince Neil's behavior might forgive Gene Simmons, who is mercilessly mocked by Lars Ulrich fans, who might get called out by someone willing to forget that Kerry King just kicked out Dave Lombardo. I'd like to think that I forgive Axl and not Dave Mustaine based on how far their actions go. If Axl goes on two hours late or leaves a show early, that's something I considered when I bought the ticket. Dave Mustaine's bigotry isn't something I bargained for. But plenty of people have more patience for homophobia than tardiness. I'm sure a lot of people find Rose's mental eccentricities more appalling than Mustaine's, or maybe they just like Rust in Peace more than Appetite for Destruction**.

But no matter whose music you prefer, or how well you distance the art from the artist, there's no denying that an artist's behavior affects the response to the art. Maybe Axl's newest version of Guns N' Roses would sell more seats if he didn't have a reputation for starting two hours late. Maybe more people would buy Super Collider if Mustaine actually turned the other cheek, as his religion urges. It's a shame when either of them get a chilly response for creating something spectacular, like Chinese Democracy or Endgame, respectively. I'd hate to think of how much those responses had to do with the bandleader's attitudes.

The fact is, though, that those attitudes count. Alice Cooper and Ted Nugent, who were roughly equally popular in the '70s are both politically conservative. But only one of them ever gleefully threatened to assault Hillary Clinton, or boasted about his own draft-dodging. This summer, Alice Cooper is co-headlining arenas with Marilyn Manson. The next time Ted Nugent performs in your town, remind yourself why they're selling tickets half-off during the week of the show.

*Brent Hinds is potentially the third.
**Someone should ask Mike Clink, who produced both of them.

Spin's 100 Greatest Drummers of Alternative Music

Really enjoyed Spin's exceptionally well-written and compiled 100 Greatest Drummers of Alternative Music feature. Not only do these underappreciated players finally get some respect (how many "best singers" and "best guitarists" lists have you already seen?"), but the Chris Weingarten-edited list also honors an excellent selection of great metal drummers. Some of my favorites are below, along with their Spin-selected "Most Booming Moment."

Chris Adler (Lamb of God), "Laid to Rest"

Igor Cavalera (Sepultura), "Territory"

Bill Ward (Black Sabbath), "Snowblind)

Chris Pennie (Dillinger Escape Plan, Coheed and Cambria), "Come to Daddy"

Brann Dailor (Mastodon), "Oblivion"

Tomas Haake (Meshuggah), "Bleed"

Mike Bordin (Faith No More), "Jizzlobber"

Will Calhoun (Living Colour), "Funny Vibe"

Dale Crover (Melvins), "Honey Bucket"

Dave Lombardo (Slayer), "Angel of Death"

Machine Head, Burn My Eyes

It has not been a good month for famous bands staying together, between Dave Lombardo leaving Slayer, Scott Weiland getting fired again and more recently Adam Duce leaving Machine Head after 21 years. It sounds like an awful situation, but not one that will cripple the band. Machine Head's best songwriting days are behind them, and as anyone who ever saw them on a 360-degree stage can tell you, Robb Flynn is the only one in the band with any stage charisma. They'll be able to tour on their great songs for the rest of their lives, and that seems fair.



Said great songs are nearly all on 1994's Burn My Eyes. I'm not a big believer in Machine Head's 2000s comeback. Writing long metal songs does not make them epics. But on their debut, Machine Head were better than any groove metal band that wasn't Pantera. Pushing the extremity of singable metal further than their thrash metal influences, while grounding themselves in thrash's double bass pedals, hardcore breakdowns and reality-based lyrics, Machine Head shaped the next two decades of metalcore and played it harder than nearly anyone else does today. Duce's controlled bass lines are at the forefront of many of the best songs, including "Block" and "Old." His place in metal history is safe.

Slayer, "Raining Blood"

Heaping praises on Reign in Blood is akin to bringing coals to Newcastle. It's almost ubiquitous on Best of Metal lists, and outside of Metallica's first four albums, it's the only thrash metal release that people who don't usually like metal own. But with Dave Lombardo being replaced over a silly contract dispute (it doesn't whose story about the terms you believe--there's no sane reason that an able Dave Lombardo shouldn't be in this band) this week, I'm going back to one of metal's only flawless tracks.



Several bloggers have already compared Half-Slayer (guitarist Jeff Hanneman is still recovering from an incapacitating spider bite) to KISS without Ace and Peter, but this is actually much worse. For all that the original KISS lineup is, the band doesn't compromise any of their nonexistent integrity by breaking up. Slayer has almost epitomized metal's integrity over the past few decades. Despite a few questionable business decisions, they've been the same straight-ahead, thrash-out-and-leave-the-room force of nature for almost 30 years.

The steady, ominous drumming that introduces "Raining Blood" is as iconic as any sound in metal. Lombardo's pacing isn't to take a breath, but to build suspense, which pays off at the infamous "In the Hall of the Mountain King"-emulating riff ("duh-nuh-nuh, nuh-nuh-nuh") that kicks in around the :33 mark. When it does, Lombardo steps right back into the war zone, directing the progression that a South Park would later honor as the ultimate hippie buzz-killer.

I once saw a pre-stardom Lamb of God open for Slayer, stepping up to one of metal history's greatest honors and challenges. Shortly before they closed, Lamb of God held a note and let Chris Adler drum the intro to "Raining Blood." "You all know why we're all here," Randy Blythe bellowed. He could have been talking to the crowd, or to any extreme metal fan in the cosmos, but he didn't need to say anything else.