I welcome the occasional flight from justice as a brief holiday from boredom, but rarely is evasion as fruitful as the fine Tokyo afternoon when Funeral For A Friend came into my life. The back story will wait for another day, but my ass needed to disappear without delay. Popping off the Yamanote in Shibuya, I made for Tower Records (the natural instinct of a guy born with headphones on) and proceeded to kill an afternoon at the listening stations, my face firmly in magazines (Thanks, Burst, for totally freaking me out). Listening stations in Japan are awesome, not only cuz one can take in tons of unheard J-everything, but the English-language music promoted overseas differs significantly from what is end-capped at retailers stateside. So you hear tons of new shit.

Anyhow, I stood rocking the then-new debut by prog-metallists Sikth, thinking it was suspiciously wimpy and not proggy at all. And the tracks were mislabeled; the supposed fourteenth track was inaccessible! Then the dumbshit alarm in my head sounded because aw crap in my haste I'd misread the menu and had been listening to Funeral For A Friend's debut Casually Dressed And Deep In Conversation (awesome cover). D'oh.

Gamblers are cool because they embrace happy accidents like these, and it was in this spirit that I bought the Colin Richardson-produced album. Wholly unoriginal and packed with whiny emoisms, Casually Dressed is no masterpiece but its high points (like this and this) suggest a potential leap from the rudimentary first effort to the sophisticated sophomore outing and beyond. Well, these days that jump commonly occurs after three or four records but whatever (eg Cave In, Lamb Of God). The songwriting was strong enough to propel the stylistically retarded band into awesomeness. 

Didn't happen. 

Hours, FFAF's second album, is an imagination-free zone with an interminable slog of by-the-numbers emo-core. And the less said the better about the band's hideous third album, Tales Don't Tell Themselves, and its sailor-at-sea-as-heartbroken-emo-fag metaphor that sucks at the album's outset and spurs self-mutilation by the midway point. What a waste of producers Terry Date and Gil Norton, respectively. 

Here we are at the fourth album and the situation is dire. The band seems set for a lofty statement with the forthcoming Memory And Humanity (awful cover above). Check out the dull, flavorless singles here and here. Squandered potential, man. Drat.



Sorry to bring this up while we're still mourning George Carlin and Bernie Mac, but holy shit is Mitch Hedberg missed. As hilariousest comic ever, the totally Metal Hedberg created a unfillable vacuum with his sudden (read: drug-related) death in early 2005, during that awful stretch in which Metal people were also robbed of Dimebag and Hunter S. Thompson. And he is yet to be replaced. 

Alas, the good news is that Comedy Central is set to release Do You Believe In Gosh?, Mitch's third comedy album, on September 9. The album's title seems to allude to pussy-ass no-swearing comics like the awful Jim Gaffigan, who, in the five minutes of shitty half-jokes that I saw, brushed up against no fewer than three Hedberg bits. Anyway, the internet fairly teems with fan pics of the intensely likable, cuddly Hedberg and though I never met him (damn), I guess we kinda connected for an instant when his reference to hair rock duds Krokus drew wild laughter from myself, a friend, and no one else in the sold-out theater. Once I recovered -- is there any inherently funnier word than 'krokus'? -- other dudes in our row quickly related that they watched Mitch glowingly train his stare on the two of us as we cracked the fuck up. That's not much, but I'll take it. We love you, Mitch.


'Hey. Stop the song. I smell pot.'

We at HooM! are happy to report that there are no murderers, rapists, or terrorists left in America and now the FBI can finally move on to more important matters: safeguarding wAxl Rose's album that he's been holding over us lo these 48 years. Oh Axl, great one, will our ear-ginas ever be suitable to receive your golden shaft and its pearly load of hyper-evolved rock? From Billboard.com:
Federal authorities say they have arrested a blogger suspected of streaming songs from Rose N' Roses unreleased album, Chinese Democracy, on his Web site.

FBI agents arrested 27-year-old Kevin Cogill August 27 on suspicion of violating federal copyright laws. Federal authorities say Cogill posted nine unreleased Rose N' Roses songs on Antiquiet.com in June. The songs were later removed but spread quickly across the Internet.
Classy! According to a Cogill colleague at Antiquiet, the 'theatrical' FBI agents were 'anything but quiet and graceful during their ass-crack-of-dawn descent on [Cogill's] sleepy house.' Nice show of pointless force, dorks. Last time I checked, leaking copyrighted material on the internet was not a violent crime and if Cogill were a flight risk, he probably would jumped town after the first time the RIAA's goon squad came calling. It's official: Axl has been revoked. Know what happens to narcs? They get face-banged by angry biker gangs. Enjoy.


Hey Metal people. It's Wednesday which means that life sucks. Ease the pain with some free Metal. 

Slipknot's All Hope Is Gone streams here. UPDATE: My mistake; this is not Metal.

Brand new Cradle Of Filth single "Evil Short Guy In Vinyl Pants" downloads free here

United Nations (above), a (gag) supergroup featuring members of Glassjaw, Made Out Of Babies, Thursday, and Converge, streams debut full-length here. Must all supergroups have corny names? UPDATE: Good thing the record is awesome.



As an infantile, legend-in-my-own-mind type, I'm prone to bouts of venomous muttering and holy shit, a co-worker totally busted me in the middle of a full-tilt soliloquy today. I hurriedly explained that the bimbonic Dave Mustaine was pissing me off 'with all these goddamn best-of releases.' Still smirking, the knocking-deficient co-worker stated that as it were he himself was a Megadeth fan, specifically of their 'awesome Countdown To Extinction album.' I only stabbed him once with my letter opener 'cause he's a few years younger and it's understandable that he was late to the party.
We then huddled over the non-sensical tracklisting for Mustaint's latest pointless compilation and recoiled in unison at its awfulness. Positively strip-mining for something positive, I tonelessly expressed that at least the anthology takes its title from one of Metal's best achievements, "Set The World Afire." I was immediately embarrassed upon the realization that Megadeth has hardly 'set the world afire' (despite some pretty major hits) and that the title is egomaniacal and worse,  inaccurate. On top of that, Mustaine is currently a coffee-swilling Republican pussy who wouldn't even enjoy civilization's blinding immolation. Shit. 

Anyway, there are few songs more Metal than "Set The World Afire." It's got all the requisite parts of a classic of the genre: 
  • no fewer than three incredible riffs
  • themes of destruction, fatalism, mistrust of authority
  • anti-social attitudes expressed by a self-perceived outcast
  • mocking, sneering, sarcastic tone
  • multiple guitar solos 
  • general awesomeness throughout
  • tempo change, preferably double time (optional)
  • no proto-hardcoreisms (i.e. mentions of strength, pride, power, hurt feelings, tears, etc.)
  • unsuitable for radio play, mass consumption; offensive
"Set The World Afire" has relatives, other classics so Metal that if Earth's pot supply was being held hostage in the jungle by Metal-starved Colombian terrorists, I'd confidently stride into their huts with a Maxell tape held at arm's length and walk out with two Louisville Slugger-sized doobers. Note: These aren't my favorite metal songs*, and in some cases, not even said band's best. Plus, I've undoubtedly overlooked a few, so chip in. Your pot may depend on it.

******HooM! Metallest Songs Ever******
Presented by Hipsters Out Of Metal!
(alphabetical by artist)

Anthrax "Finale" (listen)
Cyclone Temple "March For Me Die For Me" (listen)
Flotsam And Jetsam "No Place For Disgrace" (listen)
Megadeth "Set The World Afire" (listen)
Metallica "Ride The Lightning" (listen)
Metallica "Disposable Heroes" (listen)
Overkill "Elimination" (listen)
Overkill "I Hate" (listen)
Slayer "War Ensemble" (listen)
Suicidal Tendencies "Waking The Dead" (listen)
Testament "Seven Days of May" (listen)

*Well, they are. 'Cause I'm so Metal. But that's not the point.


As usual, it's best to just step aside and let MTV do my talking for me. From MTV.com:
[Today] marks the 20th anniversary of Metallica's ... And Justice for All. Not only was it Metallica's first LP following the untimely passing of bassist Cliff Burton, it shot straight to #6 on the Billboard 200 and was certified platinum just nine weeks after it first hit stores.

The now-classic album signaled many other firsts for Metallica: It was the first record to feature new bassist Jason Newsted, it netted them their first Grammy nomination, and it featured the single "One," for which they shot their first-ever music video. Since its release,
Justice has scanned more than 8 million copies in the U.S. alone.

Justice obviously was a huge record for us. ... We took the Ride the Lightning and Master of Puppets concept as far as we could take it," drummer Lars Ulrich reflected. "There was no place else to go with the progressive, nutty, sideways side of Metallica, and I'm so proud of the fact that, in some way, that album is kind of the epitome of that progressive side of us up through the '80s."

Ulrich continues: "It's aged quite well. There's a certain kind of specific sound to that record, peculiar sound — whichever adverb* you want to choose — that's given it a kind of life of its own and a little bit of a vibe all its own. There have been a lot of great musicians we admire who've come up and talked about what a great inspiration that album has been to them and to their sound. It's obviously awesome to be part of that. That album also sent us on this whole other merry way, because when we came back from touring on that record in 1989, we were like, 'We have nothing more to offer on this side of Metallica,' and that set us off on some other adventures." 

According to frontman James Hetfield, Justice provided a showcase for what Metallica were capable of — both as a band and as individual players.

"That album, songwriting-wise, it was just us really showing off and trying to show what we could do," he said. " 'We've jammed six riffs into one song? Let's make it eight. Let's go crazy with it.' I listen to some of that stuff, and it's pretty progressive. Sonically, it has its shortcomings, but that is the one where we were able to step forward from
Puppets, and we were out on the road a lot during that record. That's when we first had major stage shows, with pyro and things falling, and that's when we started to get into more of the theatrics.

"We mixed that record while we were on the road." Hetfield continued. "That's not an excuse for the way that it sounds, but our ears were beat. Anywhere I go, whenever I ask someone what their favorite record is, someone's bound to say
Justice. It's pretty great that, across the line, someone can jump into your history and feel comfortable."

But is
Justice Hetfield's favorite work?

"Not so much," he confessed. "I'd have to go song by song. ... I was just listening to [1997's]
ReLoad, and there are a couple of songs on there that I think are absolutely brilliant. But as an album itself, and as a time, [Justice] just isn't a good memory for me. But those songs are good. I have to try and erase the memory of that experience somehow and let the songs take me."
Wherever they're being held captive, the real members of the late, great Metallica must be upset to see these imposters relishing the praise for their crowning achievement, the god-slaying ...And Justice For All. These phonies keep saying that Justice represented the full potential of their progressive side; decode these statements in light of the post-Justice Mitstallica and it's easy to hear the unspoken truth: they had erroneously assumed that since Puppets was huge, an extension of that sound would make them huger. When Justice failed to earn them mega-success, it dawned on them that the world's shoppers like stupid, basic shit. And thus, LarsCorp. was born. 

*He means 'adjective.'


I'm pretty sure American society only served as a hindrance to the development of the glorious, face-blasting ballers of Team USA, what with the institutionalized racism and classist economic warfare and all. Oh and don't forget that all but one Team USA player represents an ethnic group that was abducted at gunpoint from another continent. None of that stops the president and country at large from unironically showing support and assuming default credit for rich-beyond-oppression, America-glorifying athletes and their nearly all-white coaching team. (Thanks for coming, Nate. Really.)

Anyway, the key to victory was clearly not this garbage nation and its asshole ruling class; the credit belongs to the greatest basketball minds and bodies in the world. During the NBA season, I spend about 15-20 hours a week staring at these titans and in all sincerity, mega-HooM! Horns to Kobe Bryant, Dwyane Wade, Tayshaun Prince, Chris Bosh, and all of the Redeem Team who surmounted the handicap of being natives of America to win the 2008 Men's Basketball Gold Medal.



To abide by HooM! doctrine, one must always strive to live naked and dream gay. That is, strip yourself of daily life's constraints in the physical world while allowing your imagination to travel unfettered by artificial boundaries imposed by weak-minded, control-hungry stooges. Break the chains. Fuck the system. Live naked, dream gay, people.

Few have lived more naked or dreamed gayer than the late Harvey Milk, the world's first openly gay public official. Not just a gay rights activist, Milk was a champion of all minorities. (Isn't 'minority' a honky euphemism for everyone who's neither white nor male nor rich? We are not the minority, dudes.) Anyway, Milk and San Francisco mayor George Moscone were murdered by Dan White, an ex-cop and failed potato restauranteur who'd been seeking reinstatement to a city government post from which he resigned, siting corruption. Moscone apparently wasn't having it, and White shot him dead at city hall before reloading his gun and murdering Milk, also a San Francisco city supervisor, in his office there. That White avoided a first-degree homicide conviction -- he got manslaughter, for which he served five years -- outraged pretty much everybody, especially since it was reported in the press that a 'diminished capacity' defense hinged on White's over-consumption of Twinkies, a revelation which somehow illustrated White's supposedly depressive, uncontrollably homicidal state of mind. Basically, it was legal to murder homosexuals and their friends in America and the jury was just dying to acquit. There's a cool song about the whole fiasco, and a killer documentary, and this fall brings a pretty awesome-looking biopic starring full-retard Sean Penn, James Franco, and Josh Brolin. 

I say all this because it's the spirit of people like Harvey Milk that embiggens me to admit that I love Enuff Z'Nuff. When the Chicago quartet popped with "New Thing" in 1989, my people and I took one look at the technicolor video and dismissed EZ out of hand. I wasn't into bright shit, man. I was dark, disturbed, disassociated. To 'get high on a new thing' wasn't an option; I was going to either punch or fuck your face, but never put a neon pink smile on it. Well, that me is dead and Enuff Z'Nuff rocks! Check out their cromulent new tune featuring ex-Ozzy/Badlands maestro Jake E. Lee -- but first crank this shit right here. This one's for you, Harvey!



Say what you will about Mitstallica (come on James, shake those glorious mitties for me), but take a listen to new single "The Day That Never Comes" and there's little doubt that the assholes are at least trying. What exactly they're trying to do is unclear, because the song sucks ass. It's not a simple misfire, like when your omelet has been salted too heavily and the green peppers are way bitter. Naw, this plodding, aimless, ill-footed, momentum-less dud is more like a cold, yellow mess only vaguely resembling an omelet -- though it is edible at gunpoint. Now it's our choice to smilingly offer some hollow compliments or spit it out. Yeah, I thought so. Here's a napkin.




It's probably hard to tell by just reading this, but holy shit I am totally freaked out right now. They told me it was bad; I didn't think it was going to be this bad. No, I'm not talking about the new Rose 'N Roses song "Shackler's Revenge" because that shit is awesome (just like the last official song wAxl put out, "OMG!"). Nor is my terror the result of more fucking Kiss merchandise on the horizon or that Jimmy Page is an A-1 blue-ribbon fucktard.

No, friends, the real mind-blowing, earth-shattering shit is ... It's just so gross. So gross and wrong. Very gross, very very wrong. Watch this clip with extreme caution.

Still alive? Great! Now it's time to rejoice that Van Halen bassist Michael Anthony is popping by the best lil' beach community in the nation and that there's a new Gojira tune here and that Slipknot won't be bullied by dickless authority figures and that Metal Nick at Metal Injection Of Awesomeness just posted fresh live clips of Mastodon, Arsis (below), and some emo dork taking a headstock to the face. Now we ... make ... PARTY!!  



In the Book of Inexcusably Shitty Bands, detailing the offenses of honkycore act Linkin Park will require a 400-strong team of amphetamine-amped monkeys. Even then, the project could stretch across decades as the sextet is breathtakingly proficient at flavorless dorm rock, commentary alternating between indecipherable and obvious, and unprompted self-humilation -- all captured in one convenient clip (above). And they've only been on the radar since 2000! 

Just click above and marvel at Stinkin Fart* sporting some snappy wigs for a rousing performance of the Guns N' Roses classic "Sweet Child O' Mine" at last night's tour stop in Wisconsin somewhere. There's so much stupid shit going on here. Perhaps they're eager to illuminate -- as music industry insiders -- the Def Leppard-Poison beef (hence the wigs). Or could it be that the whiny bitch music champs are agitating for a swift release of Rose 'N Roses' not-really-awaited-anymore album, Chinese Democracy (hence the song choice). Maybe the band had a score to settle with the people of Wisconsin (hence the timing, tunelessness). Considering the horrid performance -- the latest in a long line of shitty covers of our generation's "Free Bird" -- it seems just as likely that Chester Bennington (hilarious name, dude) and crew had gotten ahold of some really good meth (hence everything). Ahh the mysteries of life. 

*Sorry. It just slipped out.


As far as Metal music goes, HooM!'s policy is live and let live. That said, In Flames is awful -- a fact I'd happily neglect to point out if the Gothenburg suktet would stop crashing all the fucking good metal shows. From Blabbermouth:
Swedish metal band In Flames has announced a North American headlining tour in support of its new album, A Sense of Purpose. The month-long trek will launch on November 6 in Montreal, Quebec, Canada and will run through December 10 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
Apparently In Flames' publicist sees more value in pointing out that Quebec is part of Canada than mentioning support acts All That Remains (above; hey, lighten up there, muscles), Gojira (!!) and 36 Crazyfists (Sorry I like my fists nice and sane). Oh wait there they are, listed above the tour itinerary. Gee thanks. Anyway, this tour will mark at least the fifth time the In Flames guys will see the back of my head as I depart prior to their set, as discussed here. Gojira rips!


The proud owner of a new Testament shirt, I've been running my mouth to anyone who'll listen about Chuck Billy and co.'s brilliant live show a few weeks back. It was one of a handful of headlining gigs between the band's run through Canada opening for Judas Priest and the Metal Masters tour stateside. Amazingly, in addition to fronting a busy touring band, Billy has been sneaking away to Beijing to blast some longballs for USA women's softball. I'm no lawyer, but ... there must be some special exemption at work here. Then again, Metal heeds no laws.  



Despite coming off a ho-hum album and the loss of both guitarists (including the man-tastic Peter Wichers), Soilwork still figures prominently in my thoughts these days. While the Swedish sextet may be one of earth's least original bands, they seem incapable of writing a bad hook, goofy lyrics or not. So holy shit did my eyes widen when reading about the new Soilwork/Zimmers Hole tour, but alas, that shit is a world away in Europe. Those fuckers get everything: Soccer. A hot first lady in France. Neo-facism. And now this. Damn.

However, great albums from Scar Symmetry and now The Human Abstract (Midheaven, out today) comfort me while Soilwork is off galavanting with European nerds. Similarly mechanical and predictable, THA is American and therefore way whinier and much less restrained on the cringe-inducing stuff, like lengthy spoken word passages (yuck), way too much piano (barf), and bad Hagarian earnestness (gag). And you can tell they wrote their own unintentionally hilarious bio. So yeah, they're immature (like most bands at age four) but I'm excited all the same, 'cause THA will rip -- just as soon as they reel in singer Nathan Ells, who brutalizes even the coolest musicianship with his rush to cram in every thought ever. Plus, they had the good sense to fire the shit outta producer Toby Wright. On tour this fall with Dir en grey. 




'Ahhhh hahahahaha. Moneymoneymoneymoney!! Hahahaaaaaaha!'

Traveling festivals tend to suck balls, but America is a big place with a lot of tribal-tattooed fools easily separated from their money. Texans, especially. Just ask tireless bullshitter/soulless twat/Ozzy-profiteer Sharon Osbourne, spawn of Don Arden (above). From Billboard:
This year's one-off Ozzfest [in Dallas] did "fantastically well," said Osbourne. "The one thing is you want for the kids to go away and keep talking about what a great show it was, and that's what they're doing."
Uhhh the 'kids' are 'talking about what a great show it was'? What kids? Talking to whom? According to this article, the concert grossed $3.5 million; this shit was underachieving until $haron (see what I did there? I'm amazing!) hastily threw together a ahem 'tribute' to Dimebag, once again reducing the slain axeman to a marketing tool. I wonder how much of that $3.5 million is going towards the creation of an indestructible bionic Dime-bot. More delusional PR-speak:
Going out as a free event in 2007 was "a great learning experience," Osbourne says. "Everything you do should be a learning experience, unless you're such an egomaniac you think everything you do is right, and we're not. I'm glad that we did it. The fans went away happy, but my God, it was probably one of the toughest things we've ever done. Who would think it was so tough to give something away free?"
Oh poor, poor Sharon. Let's all thank her for giving her all to bring last year's awful uh 'free' Ozzfest to our thirsty-for-Hatebreed ears. Great spin, tubs. According to her, she's not an egomaniac and the fans went away happy. Oh except for the Iron Maiden fans of course. Hope it's worth it, Sharon. See you in hell. 


If you give two shits about the Olympics, you're totally gay. At least that's the prevailing mentality here at HooM! HQ. The whole thing takes place in disgusting-but-rocking Beijing (China's Chicago, if you will) and involves a bunch of lifeless droids doing pointless things slightly faster than lamewads from years past. And this Olympics' superstar looks like the guy from Nuclear Assault. Yuck.

The exception is basketball, and today I finally was able to catch a USA game. If it could be called that. More closely resembling a total, merciless slaughter, the match involved God Of Basketball Kobe Bryant, Prince LeBron James, and other sorely-missed (see you in October, CP!) USA ballers just blasting Germany's national 'team' out of the damn gym. Good thing all those protesters of China's awful government weren't around to distract anyone. Just like the pesky hikers who keep disrupting James Hetfield's beauty rest. From Marin Independent Journal:
James Hetfield of the band Metallica has erected a metal fence on his property on a Terra Linda hilltop, closing off a popular trail and angering hikers, bikers and equestrians.

Someone scrawled "SHAME DISGRACE" on the 300-foot-long, 8-to 10-foot-high corrugated metal silver fence adorned with barbed wire at its far edges.

"Look at the barbed wire. This a serious fence," said hiker Tom McMillan of San Rafael, as he walked along the shiny behemoth late last week.

But David Warner said vandalism of a previous, smaller gate, and of signs and other property along the trail, prompted Hetfield to block access with the large structure.

"It is private property," said Warner, who does construction work for the rocker. "There was some damage done by certain people. If people were cool, this would not be an issue."
Ha. 'If people were cool.' That sounds like the very same excuse Lars was peddling to explain his anti-Napster thing. And the abysmal failure of their last record. And since when is James such a narc? I can see him waving a cane, hoarsely screaming "Hey you kids! Get outta here! This is my property!" But hey, at least this flap has lead to some fresh HooM! Hexclusive in-studio rehearsal footage of Lars and James.


Sunday night was a big event for me, as the lurvly Megan Hauserman's prominent role in the I Love Money games ensured plenty of camera time for the vacuous, me-loving fox. And therefore, tons of involuntary panting and squirming on my part. But how about that Rodeo, who proved beyond any lingering doubt that the space immediately around her person is a 100% dignity-free zone. That crazy bitch was crying to and pleading with a fucking dog, friends. 

Other notable batshit crazy white people this week include a young South African student (and lover of drugs and Slipknot) who entered his school, killed one schoolmate with a sword, wounded two groundskeepers, and then calmly succumbed to arrest. In fairness, no where does it indicate the race/ethnicity of the young swordsman, but we can assume he's white because he attends school in South Africa. And he was merely arrested and not catapulted into the sun. From News24:
Pierre Eksteen, who is in charge of a school support network for children, told reporters outside the deserted school grounds that Satanic music was probably the cause of the attack. "He came here camouflaged as [Joey Jordison, drummer] from Slipknot. We know the wrong kind of music, and drugs have bad effects. Young people need to be informed of the effects of bad Satanic music," said Eksteen.
I love how he mentions a rock band first, then drugs. And what are 'the effects of' Satanic metal? Uncontrollable sword-wielding? And does a guy from South Africa, bastion of economic slavery and xenophobia, actually have the fucking nerve to condemn Metal? Or his he just saying Slipknot is 'bad Satanic music' and that kids should listen to Behemoth, a far superior Satanic band? Is Slipknot even 'Satanic'? So many questions. Oh look there's a donut left. Later!



Not to get all emo, but I just had one of those point-of-no-return moments: It's clear as of this moment that my job sucks and jail time is in my immediate future unless I depart it post haste. I will sound like Uncle Rico here, but maybe there's a time machine that could transport me back a few years to somehow join Gojira, French extreme space-metallists. There'd be a language barrier and all, but I do know a bunch of Serge Gainsbourg songs. That couldn't hurt. From a press release reproduced in its fucking entirety at Headbanger's Blog:
Even Gojira’s most devoted followers will likely be rendered speechless by the band’s upcoming album, The Way Of All Flesh, which comes out October 14.

Throughout the disc, the band vault from one end of the metal spectrum to the next, ping-ponging from Meshuggah to Opeth, Morbid Angel to Voivod, enveloping the disc with a conceptual web redolent of Mastodon, but rooted in reality, not fantasy. Gojira have touched upon environmentalism before on songs like “Global Warming,” but here the tunes are imbibed with a sense of dread, as if they’re no longer issuing a call to action, and instead have started ringing the death knell.

“This album is a requiem for our planet,” says frontman Joe Duplantier. “We don’t want to be negative or cynical about the fate of humanity, but the situation on earth is growing critical, and the way humans behave is so catastrophic that we really need to express our exasperation about it.”
Come to think of it, I'm probably more like The Simpsons' Moe Szyslak: 'Hey -- I may be ugly and hate-filled, but ... Wait. What was the third thing you said?"



It's a truly boring day at work when scanning Blabbermouth and MetalSucks doesn't occupy my free time, and I'm forced to read reader comments to run out the clock. Which is a retarded waste of time because anyone with a worthwhile/entertaining opinion will just start their own goddamn blog. But Blabbermouth commenter 'Break Open' makes an interesting point in defense of the band sequence on the just-announced Handjob From A Cowboy tour, featuring the ungodly Hate Eternal as direct support:
Job For A Cowboy have sold more records than Hate Eternal (look at their first-week sales... damn). Whether people like it or not, record sales usually indicate to promoters who kids will want to go see more.

Either way, I think it's a great slot for [Hate Eternal's] Erik Rutan and Co. This way people who don't want to stick around for JFAC can still catch 'em.
Yes! If there's one thing no sane person can stand, it's sitting through 13 shitty, indistinguishable bands (and their soundchecks) to see the headliner. By the time all that half-ass cack and its accompanying chest-thumping is over, it's 3 AM and I don't even like metal anymore. So I'm glad to leave after the good shit and help empty out the room for the more digestable, bigger-selling acts, who likely move more copies because a larger number of people find them tolerable while good bands with smaller marketing budgets have slightly fewer but wildly fanatical followers. In related news, that sentence was too long. Hate Eternal rules!


Lamb Of God has always ripped, but were pretty light on material until 2006's masterful Sacrament. Still, the album's hyper-precise production really undersells the band's skillz -- people, it's time to stop aping Pantera -- but hallelujah they are going with a producer not named for his lack of soul. From Blabbermouth
Richmond, Virginia-based metallers Lamb Of God have entered the studio with producer Josh Wilbur to begin recording the follow-up to their 2006 Grammy-nominated album Sacrament. The as-yet-untitled CD is scheduled for release in February 2009 through Epic Records in North America and Roadrunner in the rest of the world.

Josh Wilbur is well-known for his Grammy Award-winning work with American alternative/progressive country singer Steve Earl. 

Ok, I'm pretty sure the guy's name is spelled 'Steve Earle' but whatever. Whoever the hell Josh Wilbur is (he is clearly not 'well-known'), we can hope he's just pushing buttons. Like Mastodon, LoG is at the point where only a taskmaster-engineer is needed and the band can pocket producer's fees. Now blast this shit!