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I love metal. I also love chicks. Should be easy enough to combine the two, right? Wrong. Picking up chicks at metal shows is like finding a single needle in 8,000 haystacks. But don’t fret – your pal DJ is here to outline exactly how to go about picking up babes while banging your head.
This chick has another video about dressing like a metal chick. Her first piece of advice is “know the band on your shirt.” Great piece of advice.
In my previous post I discussed four criteria which make up the ideal romantic partner. Of course, because I was describing an ideal, I was also describing an impossibility. In my eyes a dream girl/guy would be very funny, extremely attractive, have genius-level intelligence and be as loyal as a lark. In reality, candidates are bound to fall short in at least one of those categories, usually at least two. I fall short in all four.
But hold the phone! My goal is not to discourage people! As Built to Spill’s first album’s title told us: There Is Nothing Wrong With Love! What is wrong is having ridiculous expectations. In this second part, I am going to reveal my second system of romantic qualification: S.A.F.E. (again, this took about 4 minutes of development and is undoubtedly flawed). The S.A.F.E system outlines my qualifications for what constitutes an appropriate partner to pursue romantically. While the F.A.I.L standards will only end in disaster, the S.A.F.E criteria should lead you to a happy and healthy relationship. Let’s begin:
Hello all: In our efforts to provide an ever-better site for you, the crew here at SAR INC has decided to make another web-page revamp. However, this time the site change isn’t cosmetic, it’s content based. If you are a long time follower you probably remember our first content change. Initially the site was just metal music interviews, but in an effort to broaden our horizons we started writing about anything we wanted with no real continuity (aside from authorship) between posts.
Well, after punching the numbers, DJ suggested that we may have made too big of a jump. Apparently moving from very specific to infinitely undefined didn’t help us establish the regular foundation of readers we’ve been looking for.
It makes sense if you give it even a half-second of thought. When I do my rounds of the internet I make my stops in very categorized ways. E-mail, social networking site, indie-music blog, celebrity gossip news, fake-news, entertainment site….etc.
So how do you categorize SmartassRadio?
Well, it’s a frankenstein monster of things DJ and I find hilarious and/or noteworthy. Which would be fine, if DJ and I were an established brand of humor. But alas, outside of our group of friends, we are not.
So, in order to make the site more directed, legitimate and (hopefully) visited, we’ve decided to say that from now on: we’re a vegetable-porn music-based website.
It’s not a tremendous change really…I’d say we’re already 75% music-based, but from now on you won’t be seeing any more posts like, “What Angelina Jolie Would Be Thinking If She Drove By Me While I Was Running One Of My Intermittent Three Mile Runs”
(I mean let’s be honest, if Angelina Jolie drove by me while I was running one of my intermittent three mile runs she would probably just think, “Wow that guy looks terrific, I’d like to give him a massage” and then she’d just start thinking of something else.)
Of course, this doesn’t mean we’ll be abandoning humor (if that’s what you want to call this). We’re just saying, “HEY, all these posts are about music.” Connections. Full circle.
So, that’s the announcement as announced by me. Why am I announcing it? Why don’t I just make the change without informing the readers explicitly?
Well, that’s the SAR difference. We put ourselves on the same level as our delicious readers. Does Billboard make these kind of personal announcements? No, Billboard.com is written by a robot. Would Pitchfork be this gracious? No, they would just make fun of you for not realizing that they are just called Pitchfork now instead of Pitchfork Media. Would some snobby-blog be this up-front? No, they’d just post some shitty mp3s, provide some tour dates, give a lousy review of a lousy album and call it a day.
So, that’s it. You might be seeing some more reoccurring segments now (I’m planning one called “Rewinding with Roy”) and of course the podcast and interviews will be going strong!
As always dear reader, comment if you have any suggestions, because our real goal is to become a pleasant stop on your internet hit parade. And to continue rocking, but that has never been a problem.
HEY! Something NEW! Here’s a guest blog from our very excellent friend Pavel Podolyak. You can check out his rantings about current politics (and now celebrity commentary) at his blog The Pragmatist. Here’s his take on the career of Nicolas Cage. – DJ
Hollywood has reached a special milestone with the most ridiculous movie of the decade.
(major spoilers ahead)
In every area of entertainment there is always a goofy but lovable character or group that keeps trying regardless of the endless failures and social ridicule. Basketball has The Knicks, music has Christian metal, and Hollywood has Nicolas Cage. This man carries the heaviest of burdens: trying to appear as a lead actor in one good movie (by his own criteria) before he dies while playing a role of somebody who dies.
You might be confused and object, “but what about Spike Jonze’s Adaptation? That was great! and The Rock! That was neat too! err, Leaving Las Vegas!”
It would seem that Adaptation is the pinnacle of Cage’s career and also a good movie. And it is. However what really got imbeded psychologically into Cage’s brain is the Oscar that he got for playing an alcoholic on a mission to drink himself to death in Leaving Las Vegas. He was 31 years old when playing a tortured soul on a mission of self destruction provided the greatest positive reinforcement an actor can get.
Cage thus learned a valuable lesson back in 1995. “To become great I must destroy myself on film.” He set out to do just that on a life project that grew beyond his control.
Obviously he didn’t think he was already past his prime after getting the Academy Award. At that tender age, people are at the peak of their cognitive powers and think they’ll keep improving indefinitely. What ended up happening is that no other actor has appeared in more movies where the role seems to be to either directly or indirectly commit suicide or be killed during some martyrdom operation. No, this is different than stuntmen actors or typecast Mafia wiseguys who die often by somebody else’s hand. This is self inflicted.
Lets begin with a few examples to see what led to Cage’s pinnacle of madness that is Knowing.
1. The Rock – Cage goes on what appears to be a suicide mission to rescue hostages. As he dies from chemical weapon, he jabs a saving andrenaline needle into his heart (which if done in a wrong way will kill). He saves many lives and appears to be killed by a fiery explosion. Yet he lives.
2. Face Off - Cage goes on what appears to be a covert suicide mission by cutting off his own face and putting on a face of a mass murderer (played by another epic tortured soul John Travolta) who killed Cage’s wife. Cage is a good guy wearing the face of a bad guy. He is driven to madness but saves his son and lives.
3. City of Angels – Cage commits suicide right away for love. What? Well he is an immortal angel you see who falls in love with a human and becomes a mortal human to be with her. He doesn’t even get to be with her since he dies.
4. Snake Eyes – Cage decides to risk his life for love. He helps a woman who is marked for death. He lives but goes to prison.
5. 8mm - Cage decides to risk his life to find out who killed a young woman. He continues on even after it increasingly becomes a suicide mission. He is driven to madness and slaughters the perpetrators. He lives but dies inside.
6. Bringing out the Dead – Cage saves lives while slowly dying inside. He finds salvation in a young woman but merci kills her father. He lives.
7. Windtalkers - Cage goes on repeated suicide missions during WW2. He is both a good guy and a bad guy who mercilessly slaughters Japanese. He saves the life of a comrade while getting shot and killed.
8. Adaptation - Cage plays two characters who are twin brothers. The fun loving happy and life filled brother gets killed. The loser writer brother lives. Cage manages to die and survive in one movie.
9. World Trade Center – Cage is a firefighter goes on a borderline suicide mission to save lives in a burning WTC. He gets trapped in the rubble and goes into a coma. He lives but everybody else dies.
10. Vampire’s Kill – Cage thinks he died and became a vampire. He tried to kill himself (again in his mind) but doesn’t have what it takes. Not to worry since somebody else kills him later.
Now things start getting strange as Nicolas Cage decides to consciously kill his own serious career by appearing in movies for children and obvious B movie horror flicks. First we see National Treasure and then the final legs of the journey are completed.
11. Ghost Rider – Cage is playing a person who goes on suicide mission stunts. He is also committing career suicide by starring in a B movie designed for the borderline retarded. Cage dies in a fire but is brought to life as an anti-hero who is on fire and in constant pain. Cage goes full circle and goes from being human to an angel of death by dying. He err, lives as an undead avenger who is always on fire.
12. The Wicker Man – Cage is a cop and fails to save a woman and a girl who dies in a fire. He drinks lots of liquor and finds out that his ex-wife is missing. Yes, out of love Cage decides to find her and goes to an island controlled by a matriarchal pagan cult. He increasingly begins to believe that the woman he’s looking for was either killed by being burned at the stake or is about to. He finds out that not only is she alive but the whole thing was an elaborate set up to burn Cage alive in a ridiculous ritual. His mind snaps. Cage finds himself trapped in an unnecessarily large wicker man and dies in a fire.
*drum roll*
Move aside The Passion of the Christ. Knowing has Nicolas Cage as both Noah, a willing martyr dying a horrible death, and the father of the only male chosen to be in the new garden of Eden.
What? Yes, we’ve come to the most ridiculous movie of the decade and one that Cage will not be able to top. This movie also combines an incredible number of genres. It is a horror movie, an action movie, an apocalyptic movie, a movie catering to Christians, a mystery movie, a sci fi movie, a B movie, as well as a Blockbuster summer movie. It is a movie to end all movies. The equivalent of a deep fried Big Mac broken up onto a deep crust pizza. An epic movie that will liquefy your mind and spirit into goo. This movie represents a dimensional flux where Cage and Hollywood merge together in an attempt to make the audience surrender and join them in a self destructive behavior of watching and enjoying movie trainwrecks (in turn, becoming part of the wreckage themselves).
13. Knowing - Cage’s wife died (not in a fire) and he has a son that he looks out for. Cage is a meteorology professor who drinks a lot. His son gets a letter from a 1959 time capsule. The letter lists all the dates of major disasters and numbers of people killed by them. Yes, some disasters didn’t happen yet. Cage risks his life trying to save people but they all die anyway and he is almost killed. A jetplane for example almost smashes into Cage’s car as he is waiting in traffic. He runs to rescue survivors who are burning alive. Total insanity.
He then meets a woman whose mother wrote the letter all those years ago. She has a daughter. It appears that Cage found a love interest but all is in vain. He finds out that the final disaster will kill everybody on the planet by burning them alive. It will be caused by a solar flare that he cant do anything about.
Yes, Cage comes to a realization that he cannot save anybody this time and also has knowledge that he and his son will die. This is it. Also, Cage’s apparent potential love interest dies before he can even die with her a little later. He is stuck with her daughter.
Ah, but wait a second audience. In the final minutes of the movie, an alien mothership descends and tells Cage’s son telepathically that he is chosen to go with them along with the little girl (they are all special and connected of course).
Cage logically wants to go on the mothership with his son and a young girl. The aliens say that he can’t go since only the two children were chosen. Cage insists that he go with them and aliens appear to be fine with that. Then Cage changes his mind at the last moment and decides to stay behind and burn alive with everybody else. His son could care less and the children go into the mothership that leaves Cage whimpering on the ground in madness and horror. Then he goes back to his city. The solar flare comes and all of humanity burns alive.
Cage’s son and the young girl find themselves in Eden by a tree of knowledge.
It is the end of the line for an actor who is used to playing characters at the end of the line. Knowing has increased chances of Nicolas Cage committing suicide in real life 10 fold. Hopefully that doesn’t happen and Cage is reborn to save us all another day.
Many of you may not know this, but I’m a pretty well-read guy. I’m not implying I’ve read any particular library of classic books – I’ve made it a point to never read a single Charles Dickens book no matter how many I was assigned throughout high school, I have a particular disdain for Ernest Hemmingway and, frankly James Joyce can suck my hog (I assume based solely on his name that he’s of the homosexual persuasion). However, I do read the news every day. The real news. The New York Times – not Metro NY, The Post, anything posted on CNN or any of that other silly hogwash. (Morris Day and) The Motherfucking Time(s). That shit is the MAD notes!
Anyway, I was reading an article yesterday about Michael Jackson’s memorial (Michael Jackson: The Memorial, rather) and I came to a phrase that was totally worthy of a tweet, however Twitter tells me “Arrow_on_red” and to “watch a video,” which I never do. So, unable to share this hilarity in my normal manner for quips of such insignificance, I decided to let it stir for an entire day and be evacuated from my body in a long form post. My original tweet will be followed by my elaboration:
yesterday the ny times referred to the michael jackson memorial as an ‘orgy of mourning’ http://bit.ly/ZSqkY sounds like an awful goth band
(Note how I refuse to use proper punctuation for my tweets.)
Indeed, Alessandra Stanley decided to equate the ramblings of a bunch of aging stars and the sobbing of a child to a sex act involving three or more people. For this, I cannot fault her. I’m almost positive it’s the first time I’ve ever laughed while reading the Times – unfortunately for me, I was drinking hot coffee and ended up with second degree burns inside my nose, but that’s neither here nor there. What I can fault her for, is the exact words she used. An orgy of mourning carries a ton of possible connotations. For one, had her left pinky slipped and hit the shift key, she would have ended up with an “orgy of Mourning,” conjuring images of retired Miami Heat basketball star Alonzo Mourning having all kinds of kinky sex with other people with the last name Mourning.
Pimp.
As my tweet above will inform you, though, this was not my initial reaction. At first, I thought it sounded like a bad high school “goth” band. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what the term goth actually means. In middle school I know we used to call anyone who listened to KoRn goth. I don’t think I used it in high school, but if I did, I’m relatively certain it was in reference to the fat asses who watched Anime (and by association Hentai). In college, I realized both the definitions were wrong as I became more entrenched in what I know as “metal” and listened to idiot girls refer to other idiot girls who happened to be wearing a black t-shirt as goth.
Now, I tend to associate it with darker rock acts and (at the risk of upsetting either a frigheningly fat or skinny mongrel of an outcast) some more feminine black metal acts and people who still insist on wearing trench coats and ponytails. (Ghaal, I’m looking directly at you.) With that, let me set the scene for how Orgy of Mourning came to be:
Greg Schmidt (or Devastatorious as he liked to be called, not realizing how retarded and off-base it was) was a skinny lad, aged 15. At one time, he was very much into N*SYNC, but never told anyone. As a direct result, he was driven head first by the denial of his own homosexuality to black metal. First it was just once in a while, when he was bored of his Metallica CDs, but with the advent of high speed Internet and P2P networks, he found he needed to own and know everything about every band ever, which brought him to his current position in life – trolling message boards, blogs and news sites to point out whenever someone forgot to mention the latest Abigail Williams release.
One particularly rainy afternoon, Devastatorious was ham-handedly playing something resembling a ham-handed Mayhem song on his Line6 Pod Pro, which he got on eBay for “like half of list price.” As he came to what some would call a chorus, his buddy Mike Shea (Khhal for our purposes) came running down with a great idea, “Let’s start our own band!” Of course, this sounded like a great idea to Devastatorious. “Ok, well first things first – we need a totally bitchin’ name,” he explained.
“Well, yeah of course. What should we call ourselves?”
“The most dark and hardcore thing ever.”
“Nothing was darker than when my mother mourned the loss of Sprinkles (the shivering family Teacup Something or other).”
“Fuck yeah, the idea of mourning is deep as hell.”
“What else should we include?”
“How about something sexual? Not because we’ll end up having sex six months from now, or anything.”
As he said this, Greg shot a look to the right to avoid eye contact with his new bandmate. Mike continued looking at him awkwardly for a moment before breaking the silence:
“This might not be cool, but check it out.”
“Ok”
“Remember that totally gay band from back in the day Orgy.”
“Yea, they suck.” No they don’t, he thought to himself.
“Well, how about we take ‘Orgy’ back and make it cool again?”
As if they had both sprung rods simultaneously, Greg and Mike looked up from their in-progress black painted nails and exclaimed triumphantly:
“ORGY OF MOURNING!”
-END-
And that’s how I imagined that going.
HELLO VIETNAM!!!
I hope you all have been enjoying this gorgeous sunny, summer weather. I know that, at least here on Long Island, it is really starting to warm up. Finally that comfortable outdoor weather that everyone longs for all year!! Anyway, if you’re like me, warm weather means it’s beach time!! It’s time to load up the woody with inner tubes, shave the snow cone ice and oil up those biceps… we’re going to the beach!!!
Sun, Sun, Sun!!!
Now while at the beach it’s imperative that you have everything set up so you are ready to relax to the max. That means proper attire: wet suit, flippers, goggles, snorkel, swimmies and peg-leg. It also means proper snacks: hot pretzels, fondu, fresca, grape twizzler pull-n-peels, a bottle of ether and a rag. But most importantly it means having the right music to listen to while you relax to the max.
And if you still haven’t found the right songs for the summer, you have come to the right place. I have always been ahead of the curve when it comes to music and I have found the perfect beach album for the summer: Mastodon’s 2004 release “Leviathan.” I picked up this vinyl last week and did not hesitate to put it on during my ride to the shore this past weekend. It was the most fun I’ve had next to the ocean in years, let me tell you why:
If your day at the beach isn’t this exciting you are fucking it up.
I woke up early Saturday morning (I wanted to beat the beach rush). The cooler was loaded to the brim with Bud Light Red Onion and, of course, grape Twizzler Pull-n-Peels. I unwrapped the “Leviathan” vinyl, the sun shining on my skin, and set it gently on my car’s record player. I did a quick preliminary squirt of sun-screen, stepped into my flip-flops, set the needle on the record and listened to the happy-go-lucky sounds of the first track ring out as I drove off for a day of fun in the sun:
I think that someone is trying to kill me
Infecting my blood and destroying my mind
Now I realize this is not your typical beach music (let’s say that Jack Johnson or Red Hot Chili Pepper singles are typical beach music), but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it. I mean if you really listen to the album you’ll see that it’s about fishing, and what is more nautical than fishing? Answer: nothing. Better answer: the ocean. I know that “Leviathan” and Mastodon in general can be a little, let’s say…sandy?…but that did not stop them from making a terrific album for metal-heads, surfer dudes and sea critters alike. Also I know whales aren’t fish, but please – I’m just trying to relax here.
It was a little after nine in the morning, but already the sun was glaring. I opted to just roll down the windows, rather than use the A/C. It was totally worth it. The fresh air, the sweet smell of hibiscus in bloom and the sun, the shining glorious sun!! The lyrics, “I am completely immersed in darkness As I turn my body away from the sun” blazed just as brightly from the stereo and my face was all smiles.
I arrived at the beach in exactly three minutes and forty-nine seconds, removed my portable record player and carried it to the beach as the second track of the album came on “I Am Ahab.” Another fishing reference!!! So beachy!!! The first lyrics are so, so true: there is “a magic in the water that attracts all men”…the magic of boogie boarding!!! Yay!! In a full wet-suit and with a mouth full of grape Twizzler Pull-n-Peel, I grabbed my boogie board and hit the surf.. The water was cool and refreshing and the next song, “Seabeast,” was the perfect soundtrack for when I started to drown.
This is what DJ looks like during the groove in “The Last Baron“
An undertow was pulling me, my boogie board and my purple-colored Twizzler-tongue down to Davy Jones’ locker. I was a little scared, but also kind of just digging the song. The gentle lap of the guitar, the pitter-patter of the kick drum. So beach-y, so aqua-rific. Within inches of my life I started to think about how great the word “aqua-rific” is and made a mental note to include the made-up word in my next blog post. Mission accomplished.
With my last breath extinguishing itself in my lungs, I was somewhat saddened that I would soon be no more, but I was also fairly content that I died after having such a great day at the beach. Also, one of my favorite tracks on the album, “Island,” was coming on next….but wait at these depths the music was fading away?! I needed to hear the next song!! I thought, “Oh well, I guess I should at least try to survive…” And so I did. With the giggling tom-toms a-poundin’ and the wavy screams a-screamin’ I made it to the surface and washed ashore beside an orange Italian eating an orange Italian ice. I raised my head to comment on the hilarity, but then I passed out because I had almost drowned.
I woke up around noon, half buried in the sand, and burnt to a crisp. Not from the sun, but because tracks 5, 6, 7 and 8 had melted my face. I crawled my way over to my blanket just as the summerjam tune “Hearts Alive” came on. Glad to be alive myself, I looked around the now-crowded beach and thought about just how terrific this album was for the sand-swept scene. I started to relax on my towel, but had trouble moving my newly burnt arms. I felt almost as immobile as Brent Hinds did after his brain hemorrhaged. ZING!!! As the song began to soar as high as the seagulls and banner-trailing planes, I looked at the children digging in the sand and thought of drummer Brann Dailor trying to dig up his dead sister while tripping on acid. ZING!!! I looked at the lifeguard stand and could imagine Queequeg climbing it like a crow’s nest. NOT REALLY A JOKE!!! I saw a young lady sucking on a popsicle like it was a harpoon. JOKE?? I saw a young albino boy devour a man’s leg. LIKE MOBY DICK!!! Yes, I thought, “Leviathan” is the perfect album for the summer.
By the way, I’m just kidding…Twizzler never made a grape flavored pull-n-peel.
STAYED TUNED FOR MY NEXT SUMMER MUSIC REVIEWS:
“Blood Mountain” the Perfect Album for a Day of Family-Hiking!!
AND
“Crack the Skye” the Perfect Album for Your Flight to Disney!!
After what felt like three months without a post we’re back with a killer interview. To celebrate completing school my girl and I went on one of the most metal tears ever. My last day of class was 5/6/09 and I capped it with an extreme performance by GWAR at the Chance in Poughkeepsie then after a night of debauchery with Frank we were off to NYC. On Friday, we caugh the No Fear Energy Music Tour with Lamb of God, As I Lay Dying (who definitely deserve a new found respect from me), Children of Bodom (who only played three songs – Alexi “Avian Bone Syndrome” Laiho destroyed his shoulder and couldn’t perform) and God Forbid. On Sunday we were able to see Mastodon perform Crack the Skye at the Williamsburgh Theater in Brooklyn – if you have the opportunity, you have to go.
But Saturday is truly the important night right now. I had the opportunity to sit down with Protest the Hero guitarist Tim Millar and got a great interview. Tim was a great guy and the staff at the Blender Theater was one of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. Being in the midst of the most metal weekend I’ve ever had, I didn’t have too much time to prepare so please bear with the interview as I stumble through the first few questions. Also worth noting is the fact that Roy coming to the interview wasn’t ever even an option, so I don’t know why I felt it necessary to say he “pussed out.” I’m a horrible friend. Below is the interview and a flash gallery. After the jump is another gallery if you have trouble with this one and a transcription of some of the highlights.
Lorraine took all the pictures, which you can see kick an insane amount of ass.
