July 12, 2009

California Fried Naomi

Posted in Uncategorized at 10:48 pm by nedbun

Yesterday I went to the beach.

Today I went to the beach.

I am going to be darker in a few days after all the redness goes away.

Goodbye shirt tan lines, hello bikini tan lines.

I am happy. 🙂

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July 9, 2009

Why are you calling this METAL?

Posted in Uncategorized at 9:53 pm by nedbun

In May, I went to the Roxy for a… let’s say to be present for a musical performance. I was very surprised, however, in the middle of the set when the lead singer proceeded to describe to the audience, which of course included myself, how we all needed to listen to more “metal.” I was surprised because at no point during the first two “songs” did it even occur to me that this band would consider themselves to be a metal band. Maybe my definition of metal is not up to par, or is it?

Once the set continued I tried desperately to decipher which parts of the “music” that I was listening to was considered to be metal by my standards. The answer was, very few. The drummer was pretty awesome, although I can’t say that he was at all reminiscent of Bill Ward or John Dolmayan, he was quite good. Really, there’s nothing I can say about the rest of the band aside from the fact that I was waiting for the performance to end so badly that I resorted to poking fun at the ridiculous crowd that had formed in this historical venue. I was disappointed in the overall sound of the band, not to mention that it was clear from the spread in the room that that FOH engineer either had no idea what he was doing or didn’t care enough to be proud of his work. I felt cheated out of the $15 ticket and $7 ginger ale I had purchased by this point.

What is happening to metal? The last time I checked, you didn’t have to scream vocals to be a metal band, and I’m positive that you don’t have to have a particular hair style or cut of jeans to participate either. The crowd seemed to agree without hesitation that what they were listening to was in fact metal and that they were having a good time. The dissonant, predictable and repetitive guitar riffs made me sick. The bass player didn’t seem to care if anyone could hear him or not so long as his hair was sufficiently covering his face. The singer/guitarist was sub-par, but I could tell that deep down he was ashamed of himself for repeatedly pulling up his pants throughout the performance.

Metal is dying, friends.