Full Metal Jackoff

I've had a fun weekend, which is good, 'cos I was in a bit of a arsey mood after a week of office politics bullshit. Why do people indulge in petty empire building when y're all supposed to be pulling in the same direction? That shit bugs me, no one wants to spend a third of their time at work. so why make everyones lives more difficult by indulging in unnecessary intrigues, backstabbing and finger pointing? Answers on a postcard please...

But as I was saying, a good weekend. A Friday night spent working yr way thru JCPs local off-licences range of real ales whilst getting stoned and indulging in ludicrous synthesizaur* duels (think Rick Wakeman vs Keith Emerson on 80s home keyboards both with one hand tied behind their back and y're halfway there) using all the most tasteless sounds we could find is a good way to work out yr job related stress.

On Saturday, I'd like to have been building a snowman in Italy, but seeing as I was here, I went to see Khanate that evening, who were great, but for reasons forthcoming, didn't quite hit that regressive and psychotic deathly cold antigroove which characterises their finest moments, both live and on record. Tim Wyskia's slow motion drum fusillades were fucking awesome, the slamming of an osmium coffin lid on top of a casket containing everything you cherish, just as it should be. Jim (neatest beard in Metal) Plotkin's bass was as sub as you like, crawling and grasping like a legless zombie from The Beyond. As far as Doom rhythm sections go, their only equal is Om, but whereas Al Cisneros and Chris Hakius sound like the churning of the planets mantle, Wyskia and Plotkin are more akin to the inexorable progress of a glacier thru rock, the sound of the crust cracking. Alan Dubin however, sounded a little subdued (by his standards anyway). His voice seemed to lack it's usual frenzied edge, that certain frozen, bitter violence of tone that he unleashes on record which makes you think jesus, I'm glad I'm not you. But then again, I suppose you can't expect such a flatlined intensity every gig, I mean, that shit has got to hurt... It could have been that, or the fact his vocals were more processed than usual, which sounded cool, but did detract slightly from the laser like focus that Khanate have at their peak. The guitar though, was just bit too warm, too rounded sounding and loose around the edges, smothering as opposed to bludgeoning, giving some of the riffs a Sleep-like feel which didn't quite sit right with the absolute precision of the rhythm section. Whether it was the mix or Stephen O'Malley's choice of guitar tone, it just didn't smack you in the throat leaving you gasping for breath the way it should... They were still pretty fucking good though.

Couldn't sleep when I got home though so I recorded some more necropornblues. In the bathroom. Well, in the bath to be precise (not with any water in it, that would have been foolish and the cenobitic banjo could get rusty). Sitting in the bath with my legs hanging over the side, a microphone tied to the shower rail, drinking wine, doing something foul to Blind Lemon Jefferson's See That My Grave Is Kept Clean and several versions of Little Red Rooster which together form possibly the most drunkenly obsecene and sacreligeous things I have ever recorded. Which a. pleases me greatly and b. means they require editing into a single version and have extra guitar solos added. When I've finish a few of these I shall post them somewhere for yr listening edification and you can all have a good laugh/slag me off/heap praise upon my shoulders... One thing though, I'm normally really good at fucking stupid band names, but I'm still trying to come up with a dumb enough one for this shit. So, if you have any good names for a foulmouthed debaser of classic blues songs let me know, an Octodog for the winner...

Sunday? Dunno, slept thru most of it.

Oh, and another thing. There's one other musical project I've been dying to get together for fucking years and I'm looking for as many people as possible for it. The First Luciferian Tabernacle Gospel Choir. Exactly like proper gospel but givin' it up for Satan. I can't believe no one's done it before, and if we live in a world where (I'm not kidding) Christian Black Metal exists, well frankly I think it's time for some Satanic Gospel.

I should probably go now. But I may be back again later. I've noticed that drinking Crianza makes me write. Fuck knows why, maybe certain Riojas contain a specific chemical which stimulates the parts of the brain which make me want to bang on about stuff. Bit like coke, only cheaper and less rubbish...

*It's meant to be spelt like that - I must get round to explaining the Memnochian Way at some point.