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So, after exactly one year to the day I left Japan, I received a job offer for Milan. What does this mean for the blog?
In the short term it means less gig reviews as I’ll need to find out when/where gigs are over there and it appears bands tour Italy less than Glasgow.
On the upside, it probably means more actual blogging about the Italian experience rather than just Youtube links. If Italy is anything like Japan it’ll mean I have more time to myself, which means more poetry as I get more muses to inspire me to write. It’ll also mean more political commentary about Britain – an irony not lost on me as it makes me appear to care more about the country when I’m away from it than actually in it – simply not the case, let me assure you. It will also mean that I’ll have time to update all my photos on here and take a helluva lot more holiday type snaps.
How do I feel about the move? Nervous as ever; less excited about it than Japan – probably because I’m no longer a virgin to the experience; happy that I have job; ecstatic that I’m getting more EFL experience, particularly since it’s branching out to do business experience; amped to be able to still work on some of my gaming plans while I live abroad rather than being totally cut off from everyone like I was in Japan.
How does it compare to unemployment? Surprisingly, I am feeling the same cocktail of emotions as I did when I had no job.
A song that captures my feelings at this moment? The title of this song just as much as the contents:
And my personal favourite:
It’s Nyan Cat slowed down 8 times (yes, seriously I did just recommend this to Shoegaze fans):
And here’s a bonus remix:
SUPER DOUBLE BONUS GET’S:
Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band in question.
How time flies! The last review was way back in October. I’m only to blame for the lack of gigs though. I missed Mogwai in December after not buying a ticket soon enough and in a fantastic leap of stupidity, I turned up at the wrong venue for Explosions In The Sky and then went home disappointed. The show went on without me and for forty days and forty nights did I weep. To be fair (and not beat myself up about it any further than I already have), I had no idea that there were two O2 venues in Glasgow. I still haven’t been to a gig in the Academy but now I know that it actually exists I’m sure it won’t be long before I’m there.
So I figured if one gig could bring back a return to form it would be this one. If you like your music loud, your clothes black and your vowels with 2 dots above them, this gig wasn’t to be missed. From a quick glance at the line up it promised to be a big, dirty metalgasm with Red Fang as the up and coming pretenders to the spiky throne of riffs and of course Mastodon who secured a spot in metal world royalty with their latest album, who gained front cover photo shoots coverage on just about every metal magazine worthy of the name and even managed to make a recent appearance on Jools Holland, of which my only disappointment was their lack of an impromptu piano collaboration with the host.
But wait, what’s this? In between the Raw Metal, I spy with my little eye something worth shelling out 20 quid for. For those of you who know me in person, you’ll know I’ve been a fan of Dillinger Escape Plan ever since I was flabbergasted by the intensity and hilarity of their performance supporting for System of a Down about 10 or so years ago now where they were heckled throughout the the majority of their show. I say majority because I’ll never forget how the lead singer hyped up the crowd for the first two minutes of it. When the crowd were just about ready to explode the band opened up to unfollowable jazz-infused screechings. For about 5 seconds the crowd, who were already jumping and jostling to start a pit, stopped, paused, looked at one another and started hurling abuse and beer in the direction of the stage.
Ah, those were the days. There’s a lot I have to say about Dillinger. One of my favourite moments of metal nostalgia is how I used to introduce them to people by introducing their debut album “Calculating Infinity” by letting my victims hear the first five seconds of every track and then skipping it. Their responses went something like this:
Track 1: *eyes go wide*
Track 2: “OK…”
Track 3: “Dude WTF am I listening to?”
Track 4: “They’re playing a groovy interlude now?!?”
Track 5: *laughter*
Track 6: “DUDE. How can you like this?!?”
Track 7: … *head shaking*
Track 8: “What the hell, another interlude?” *more laughter*
Track 9: …
Track 10: … …
Track 11:”Get the fuck out of my house!”
And yet their live shows, particularly their mosh pits, were ferocious. I’m a fairly big guy, always have been, and have been going to pretty lively gigs for a while now and back in the day I lasted about one song. Bear in mind that the average Dillinger tune used to last about 2 minutes tops.
Needless to say Dillinger aren’t for everyone but they’re the real reason I was even at this gig. Mastodon were just a nice cherry on top to convince me that I really needed to be at the show. When I say be at the show, I mean, not be at another venue wondering why no one is queuing up or why the venue is closed. Le sigh…
Any way, before continuing with the review, I want to give massive kudos out to the crowd. The venue was sold out despite (or perhaps because of?) the conflicting styles of music. The people there were all in good spirit and although the bands had a mostly “let the music speak for itself” stage presence, the crowd were interactive throughout, clapping along, singing, jumping around. This was all helped by the great Barras venue which also speaks for itself as a display piece for worldwide talent coming to Scotland and has done since the 1930s. Extra kūdos to the capacity crowd who showed up nice and early to catch Red Fang take the stage just before 7.30pm. Enjoy the umlaut, you deserve it.
It’s easy to draw clear comparisons to Baroness and their label mates Black Tusk. Red Fang got on stage and put out their sludgy, 70s inspired metal to an audience who were always going to have a lot of respect for what they do. The kind of respect that grabs you with a pint in your hand, your shoulders back, chin forward and makes your head nod in time to the riff as that grimace becomes an upturned smile. If I wasn’t focusing on trying to guess when the drawn-out cymbal crashes were going to fall during the some of the more progressive elements of the performance and I actually took a look around I’m pretty sure that I would’ve seen that smile of respect on their faces too. Captivating. Chunky. Red Fang, the next Mastodon?
Now for the part of the show where a section of more traditional metallers in the crowd would endure silently or with grudging applause. Clearly, the Dillinger Escape Plan have come a long way from that first booing they received ten years ago or so when they first arrived on Scotland’s shores.
All those years of jumping into crowds, having fist fights over microphones and taking shits on stage to throw into the crowd have taken their toll on the intensity of the band as well as their line-up. As a result, they played mostly newer, less intense material. I came to see Dillinger for the spectacle of their show but after having seen them 3 times already, on this occasion I was greeted by a different kind of surrealism.
I started at the back of the crowd where I saw kids with their parents headbanging to them. Kids headbanging at a Dillinger gig. Let me show you what’s wrong with that statement. In 2003 they were this:
Nice little face punch at 1 minute 19 there.
More than a little freaked out by the prospect of 10 year olds raised on Dillinger, I jumped into the pit which I actually survived for more than a minute of this time. Actually I spent the rest of the performance there. Fan-dabi-dozy.
As expected, the pit was pretty frantic particularly with lead singer Greg Puciato jumping in from time to time to keep it going. What was also suprising was a strong contingent of the crowd singing along with the majority of his screams where previously people would just go batshit nuts in there. You also have to consider the amount of lyric sheet reading that went on to learn those songs.
This was a new Dillinger Escape Plan – for better or for worse I’m not sure but I’ll be at their next gig whenever that might be. Just to double check of course.
After that performance, Mastodon almost seemed like an afterthought. Not to the majority of the crowd though.
As they opened up with two big tunes from their latest album the packed-out crowd of 2000 or so felt more like a stadium of people jumping and clapping in unison. From the back of the ballroom you could see waves of people head banging in time, singing along to material from the their latest album like it was their first.
When material from “Leviathan” followed on I realised that there was not one song of Mastodon’s that wasn’t instantly recognisable. They have released album after album of solid content for years now and from the crowd you could see the truth of that. The band take massive crowd pleasing riffs and throw in extremely technical moments to ensure that they aren’t just another wash-rinse-repeat, crowd-pleasing festival band.
Unfortunately I had to leave the gig at 10.30pm to catch the train home so I missed about 30 minutes of their performance but having seen what I had, I was pretty damn satisfied. As a side note, if anyone can fill in any highlights of what happened towards the end of Mastodon’s gig I would really appreciate it
In summary, I can’t admit to being a massive Mastodon fan but as my girlfriend might say, I wouldn’t kick them out of bed for having cold feet. I hope they continue to put out shit-hot material as they have done throughout their career and inspire others to take a more technical approach to metal that goes beyond the simple big riff approach a lot of their contemporaries have stuck with.
As someone who likes intimate, smaller gigs, I don’t find myself saying this often but I’d really like to see the band perform at a larger venue. Having said that, and as I hinted at above, I think they’ll need to up their stage presence before playing larger venues without the help of established bands like Dillinger Escape Plan to put bums on seats. How they do that without sacrificing the technical musicianship they put into their music, I don’t know. If it came down to sacrificing one or the other, clearly, for Mastodon any how, the music comes before the spectacle.
Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band in question.
Much like this very late review, I arrived late to the gig and missed The Bronx supporting themselves as Mariachi El Bronx.
As for The Bronx headling the gig as The Bronx, they say pictures speak a thousand words, so here are two of my hat I wore taken after the gig:
Note the lack of a second strap to hold it together after it was torn off my head, the large tear at the front and mud stains all over. Bear in mind this hat was one that was with me during the Sendai Earthquake but simply could not withstand the intensity of The Bronx. I was lucky as my glasses came off at one point too but I managed to pick them up mostly unscathed.
That’s all your getting today.
Well ok, you can have 1 minute 17 seconds more:
“Enter Shikari? Isn’t that an Indian restaurant?”
Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band in question.
This one is a little late as I’m still recovering from my birthday week festivities and the phlegm and sickness that followed after it. This review comes with a second disclaimer – I’m a complete and utter Glassjaw fan boy. If you’re looking for an unbiased review, I suggest that you look elsewhere.
So… 11 years in the making to see my favourite band of all time. They’ve been amazing since I first heard their explosive introductory track ‘Pretty Lush’ from a Kerrang CD back in the 90s. I’ve missed every opportunity to see Glassjaw since they first hit the UK back in 2000 when they came over with Deftones and Soulfly. Like Earthtone9, I thought I had missed my last chance to dance when they split in 2004, only for them to leave tantalising hints of their reformation over the following 4 years.
My reason for sticking with Glassjaw throughout my life could have been because of those hints at reformation and the hope for a follow up of the quality music their fans have come to expect of them. However I like to think I stuck with them because of their ability to move and grow up with their fans. If their first album represented teenage anger and frustration, their second a form of regret and yet more frustration that coincided with my university years then their latest amazing material is where I am now – growing and accepting previous frustrations and moving forward to new successes. For them to visit Scotland on my birthday and in my hometown felt fated.
Better yet when an old acquaintance in the form of Suicoperro, whom I’d first heard in my university days when I discovered Biffy Clyro, where announced to play as support. I’d never been to see them as I only liked a few of their stand out tracks from their album ‘Random Acts of Intimacy’ but they were the perfect addition for me as an opening act.
In this faculty, Sucioperro played material I had never heard before, presumably from their latest album that I imagine they were promoting. Their material had a great pounding bass sound and a rawness I remember from ‘The Vertigo of Bliss’ when Biffy were still rough around the edges and experimental. I want to stop comparing Sucioperro to their Scottish compatriots but even as someone who appreciates their work I struggle. However, I’ll definitely be getting the rest of their albums and heading along to their next gig the first opportunity I get.
If that weren’t enough, up-and-comers Rolo Tomassi joined the fray to give us a fresh new sound – one I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy from just watching Youtube excerpts of them. Live however, they were a different experience altogether. I don’t think I’ve ever been so awed and bemused all at the same time as I was three songs into their set. (EDIT: Which turned out to be this track – the breakdown… holy fuck! WHAT IS THIS I DON’T EVEN)
Their music was incredibly technical and at points reminded me of early prog. Later on, their setlist became increasingly more hardcore oriented with a harsher rawer sound. If I had to describe them I’d say, put Rush, Dillinger Escape Plan and The Mars Volta in a raunchy hotel room and imagine what kind of offspring that union would bring. For listeners of Iwrestledabearonce and HORSE The Band.
If you see them in the future try not to get caught out by the by the one-two sucker punch of vocalist Eva Spence’s screaming followed up quickly by her quiet, polite thanks at the end of each song. Indeed I ROFL’d. Verily.
Many of you who know me have seen me in Glassjaw clothes, so naturally I looked forward to buying up some of their merch – a new wardrobe actually. The added draw to this is that I wanted to pick up their free Coloring Book EP distributed only at gigs. Since their merch was absent at the start of the gig, throughout the support I kept checking back to see if the band had set up their merch yet alongside the two support acts’ material but was left sorely disappointed. No explanation has been offered as to why there was no merchandise. Some theories include shipping issues or the entire stock being sent Reading and Leeds. Either way, not the best.
And yet, it was a minor flaw – well, considering the show they put on. There are setlists out there if you want to find them and I could write up a bunch of adjectives, similes and metaphors to explain how great the gig was but there’s no need really. If you’ve experienced a Glassjaw set before, then you have and you’ll know the feeling of greatness in your midst. You won’t wonder as you watch their recorded live performances online at how large sections of the crowd can sing along to every word to every song and keep jumping around to frontman Daryl Palumbo’s stage antics. You won’t have to extract meaning from alternate lyric lists around the net because you experienced the meaning of the words yourself. You won’t have to question whether or not you would be in the middle of the pit with the rest of the crowd or if you’d be on the side line or sitting on your ass at the back of the venue. You’d be there experiencing what makes them great.
If you haven’t seen them yet, hopefully you won’ t have to wait 11 years, but if you do like I did, you’ll know it was worth it.
The only material of the gig I could find was of Sucioperro so have some mixed recent live performances for Rolo Tomassi and Glassjaw:
And one from Reading and Leeds since they stole all our fucking merch!
Onion onion onion onion onion…
Pew Pew!
Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band.
Before I do anything, these:
Now that’s out of the way, I went to this gig to see the Gwar spectacle. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy some of their songs too – “Meat Sandwich”, “Penguin Attack” and “Hate Love Songs” are all top notch, but mostly I went to get covered in fake blood and have a good time.
Clutch were a great added bonus too. I’m not a Clutch fan but I’d heard of them and their country infused metal before. My only concern was that as a joint headliner, and as indicated by some of their fans on Lastfm, the Clutch crowd would leave the crowd bear after their show with only few people staying for Gwar.
My concerns increased when I arrived at the venue at 7.15pm and the place was empty. An hour and 45 minutes later of standing around and the room filling up, Clutch took the stage. One of these days I’ll go to a gig and not be left standing around with my hands in my pockets waiting for music. Complaints aside, I can see why the organisers had the doors open 2 hours before the first act considering that both headliners brought different crowds, and leaving this gap ensured that the Gwar crowd would show up to see Clutch. Unfortunately this left both bands with only about an hour and fifteen minutes each to play… and me standing around like Nigel-no-pals. Fuckers.
I stood near the back to get a good idea of Clutch and take them in. With hindsight there was no real need; what the band did was straightforward enough – bang out good tunes. The band were tight and produced some tasty guitar and drum solos throughout and the crowd lapped it up. I could try to pick holes in the performance and say that they were so tight that it left little room for creative solo-ing in what I imagined was a live sound that sounded exactly as it was captured on record, but to be honest, there’s no need; Clutch were and are great at what they do and I imagine will be everytime they take to the stage. A solid no gimmicks, 4 out of 5, 8 out of 10 performance, which would no doubt be higher if I really appreciated the country stylings of their music. Bish-bash-bosh, good job, nice show.
From a gimmick-less band to one that has made its career by shamelessly reveling in camp, the co-headliners couldn’t have been more different. A managed to make my way to the front of the gig after the Clutch fans piled out to the bar into a group of really enthusiastic young Gwar fans, one spotting my the GJ logo on my sweater and brofisting me out of Glassjaw respect. Roll on Glassjaw and my 28th birthday!
Meanwhile, I kept looking up to see if the rumours were true and whether or not there would be a large container of fake blood or gunge dropped onto us from above. Unfortunately no such container presented itself. However, soon afterwards roadies started taping plastic bin liner over the speakers, foreshadowing the messy show to come. If this wasn’t enough to send the front rows into further frenzy, security staff and camera men started putting on goggles and plastic ponchos. Chants for Gwar went up and some kids behind me were rough-housing before the show even started. This was gonna be good.
As the band arrived on stage a helper slave, gimped up in a mask and loincloth, tore something – a fake dead dog, the arm off one of the band’s antagonists, another slave – I can’t remember which – but it shot fake blood into the audience and from that point on it had truly begun. Between and during most songs more fake blood was – sometimes literally! – pissed onto the crowd.
Beyond the messy fun, the spectacle of seeing 5 men dressed in a combination of bondage gear and LARP kit playing speed metal/punk was ridiculous enough and if I hadn’t seen The Dwarves before I would’ve been less inured to it. As a result I want to say the gig was wholeheartedly awesome, and it was but I would have liked to have heard some of their bigger songs that I mentioned above. Had they played their more recognisable music I would be more likely to have come away from the experience wanting to listen to a whole lot more of their music.
In spite of that I would gladly go see them again and recommend anyone to witness the spectacle. However, the last time they came here was 17 years ago. If you missed them, fingers crossed they’ll come back soon enough for you to get covered in blood shot from the Queen’s tits, Lady Gaga’s fecal matter or even shot in the mouth by blood piss from an invincible alien. Speaking of which, here’s some footage of that…
… And some simulated necrophiliac bestiality
