Tuesday, March 31, 2009
When it finally occurred to somebody to buy the fuses in bulk, practice ended prematurely due to a mutual craving for cheap lager, custard creams and family sized bags of crisps. These would be summarily gorged upon under a bridge (just like in that song) between my house and the local corner store.
On getting back no other excuse was needed not to play music as it was late and we were too noisy for late. Instead the evening would disintegrate into TV and more alcohol and in later years a trip to a pub called the anchor. Drunk, bored or tired we would retire, the rest of the ‘band’ sleeping on my bedroom floor or on camp beds.
And that’s when it would happen. Invariably and given that the alternatives were zero whoever had decided to quit the band that week would have over the course of the evening decided that he wanted to be back in the band. It was rare for anyone to object. There was only one hurdle facing the now ‘new member’.
I was fourteen when I first heard slayer ‘reign in blood’ the week it came out, totally dismissing it as being ridiculous. I believe the money went on a copy of Cinderella ‘night songs’ instead. Then a few weeks later a girl friend said she didn’t like the record and did I want it? To be honest I didn’t but it did mean my meager collection of records was now one louder so I said yes. Over time it grew on me and eventually led to an obsession with ‘thrash metal’ and then ‘hardcore’.
slowly the sound of rain and drums would fill the dark, silent and over-crowded bedroom. The rain and drums would be followed by a familiar high-scale and distorted guitar riff, shortly after came a second more highly pitched guitar and then, and then all fucking hell would break loose.
Deal was if you wanted to be back into the band you had to be ‘slayerfied’, being ‘slayerfied’ meant having the living shit kicked out of you for the duration of the title song ‘reign in blood’.
Looking back it was hugely gay: a pile of partially and invariably sweaty bodies clammering with fists, punching and occasionally kicking each other as dave lombardo’s drums beat out an unholy rhythm that non of us could hope to follow.
Despite the imagery, there were no hand jobs.
Aside of the two unknowns, of those sometimes involved, one became a chef, one does stuff with computers, one emigrated and one died.
‘reign in blood’ is really fucking good.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
i just re-watched 'house by the edge of the park' which features the above scene and the song 'do it to me (once more)' which i am guessing is by RIZ ORLANDI the guy behind the rest of the soundtrack ... guessing. i could check the titles but i prefer the uncertainty, the mystery.
anyway, sometimes at boring parties or on long car journeys people do that whole 'if you could invite anyone dead or alive to a dinner party....' thing and people always say bullshit stuff like:
my dead grandad, einstein, jesus, pat benetar and john wayne...
fuck that shit. i have my answer right here.
...and i want dancing lessons off of giovanni radice.
for those of you who haven't seen 'house on the edge of the park', go see 'house on the edge of the park'. if you don't want to go and see 'house on the edge of the park' but want to pretend to people that you did see 'house on the edge of the park' so you can look cool at parties i have prepared the below:
lady with short hair and white dress gets raped
brunette with red dress is about to get raped but doesn't and then later decides she wants it anyway
bald black chick says 'hot diggidy'
midget guy with girl hair and tall guy also with girl hair both get beaten up
awesome dancing dude gets stabbed with a straight razor but lives
guy from 'last house on the left' gets shot in the cock and does not live
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
wowzers! first TG and now SB. in this latest move of awesomeness from god we see SPANDAU BALLET get back together! its as if somebody read my secret wish list of secret wishes.
Monday, March 23, 2009
this record looks like it is going to be soooooo amazing. something about the parisienne writing and the slick hair and spring suits. i was expecting it to be the secret place that AIR came from, some kind of unspoken awesome slice of synthipop.
So this is basically that guy with the hair - Manuel Gottsching and somebody called Rosi... probably his girlfriend or something.