Hatebreed Review

Hey,

I finally finished the Hatebreed review, using my usual technique of write everything I want to write, then cut away the fat and hammer away until the copy fits the limit.

I just sent it off to Thee Ed.

The other two reviews will be sent when I'm happy with the copy on them as well.

I'm going to keep checking out how reviewers at Kerrang, Metal Hammer and Terrorizer write their reviews. See if I can't pick up some tips regarding structuring and language.

Over and out.

-J

Bond films and scarves

Hey.

I'm mildly shocked that the new Bond movie is not actually totally crap.

I might even be reckless and bump the needle into the zone of Good.

There was also, for better or worse, a Parcours chase early on (strangely enough there was a Parcours act in the Madonna thing I was watching last night... those Parcours chaps get everywhere).

In fact, I was so engrossed in the movie that it wasn't until I had left the theatre that I noticed that I didn't have my scarf.

Background: it's just a plain black, semi-acrylic scarf that I picked up in Camden, but it's still a rather good scarf: nice and long, about 20 inches across and really soft. And I've been losing too many things lately. Not to mention I have no idea of the shop I bought the scarf from are still open, or if they have the same scarves.

So I blagged my way back into the theatre, took a look around, asked the ushers to keep and eye out etc. They offered me some gloves they had found, but I declined.

When I got home I found the scarf thrown over my clothesrack.
.
.
.
Every so often I have to stop and ask myself if I'm going insane.

Still, I don't need a new scarf, so I'm happy.

Over and out,

J

Rock and Roll

Hey all,

The Motorhead show last night was incredible. Absolutely brilliant. Having completely run out of food meant that I had to hit the Tesco for supplies, pushing my schedule back half an hour, so I was late to meet Callum, who was picking up my plus one.

But the show made up for all the Snafus.

After that, on to Slimes, then home. I had been thinking I wanted to see Laibach, but everyone before the show said that I had made the right choice (ie taking a free ticket to a show which will get me more copy in print, rather than pay for a ticket to satisfy a curiousity), at the show I was blown away and after the show I couldn't actually find anyone who really enjoyed Laibach.

I'd still like to see them sometime, but I'm not too bothered that i missed them this time around.

Heading home in the morning I managed to get caught in not one but two hail storms. The April Showers seem to have come six months early.

Random tangent: I'm wondering aobut the qwerty keyboard design: I know that it was designed to slow down typists by placing keys that would occur together most often in the English Language at opposite ends of the keyboard. What I'm also wondering about is if it was also designed with the most commonly occurring letters at the left hand side, since I always feel like my left hand does most of the work while my right hand just sort of taps in when necessary (kinda the same way I play guitar, and the same thing I'm trying to overcome: get my right to think like my left).

Then again, it might just be something I perceive that isn't actually true. Typing this I have been thinking about how my fingers have been working, and I think that my right is working just as hard. Maybe it is just specific words that always seem to be dominated by my left hand. Ah well.

Tomorrow I've got running around to do and reviews to finish.

All good fun.

Over and out.

-J

Backyard Babies and Motor

Hey All,

The Backyard Babies show was pretty good. Hard rock done punk style with close harmonies and killer melodies. Lots of local Rockstars turned out, including at least half of the Wildhearts. Pretty good show, even though The Mean Fiddler is not my favourite venue (it's too hot, too smoky, the sound is crap and the toilet attendants are creepy). My good pal Regis was also at the show, once again providing photographic cover-fire while I scribbled my notes. We seem to be doing more work together than Fred and Ginger.

Actual snippet of conversation (read Regis with a French Accent).

Regis: I was just thinking last night, 'This is strange, I haven't seen Jason this week'.
Me: Dude, last night I saw you at the Hatebreed show, shooting the band. You didn't see me because I was up on the Balcony.

After that I wandered into deepest darkest to see Motor at Madame JoJos. Seen Eyes Wide Shut? Remember the nightclub scene? That's the place.

I was seeing Motor at the suggestion of a good friend of mine, who insisted that they were a great live act (which face it, is pretty unusual for electronic based bands). And they were. They may have been three hipsters monkeying about on stage with two mics, a laptop, a keyboard, an octopad drum trigger thingo and the ever-present rear projection, but I really enjoyed watching their set.

Even though the JoJos crowd didn't get them and cleared the floor : (

Hung out at JoJos with my friend and then headed back to Leytonstone, arriving just in time to find out that my friend's purse had been stolen on the bus back to Camden. Lousy end to a great evening for my friend, and I wasn't happy to hear about it either.

For those who don't know: London Council decided to retire the Routemasters and bring in long bendy buses, Brisbane style. Screw that fact that bendy buses like long, straight streets, and London is a haphazard criss-cross of goat-tracks. Screw the fact that buses in London have to stop and start constantly, leading several of the bendy buses to reportedly catch fire as the engine struggled to cope.

Nope the reason people hate bendy buses is because they are favoured by gangs who like to have one guy grab purses, handbags and whatnot and leap out the door while his mates hold you back.

Moral of the story? Don't sit near the door, watch your stuff but most importantly, don't ride bendy buses in London.

Anyways, today I have errands to run, tonight I have writing to do. But tomorrow night I'm being sent to cover Motorhead at the Brixton Academy (I'd prefer to see Laibach at the Mean Fiddler, but I can't turn down work. Not if I'm trying to build a reputation as the Reliable Go-To Guy, always up for a show and always delivers consistent copy in a timely manner.

Of course, now that I'm officially in print (again!), I think it is high time to start looking at who else needs scribblers (I wonder if Time Out would take me).

Enough for now. Better get onto those errands.

Over and out.

-J

Hey All,

Hey all,

The Hatebreed show was pretty impressive. Unearth surprised me by actually be pretty good, even if their lead work was a little ordinary. Maybe less time watching Vulgar Video I, II and III and more time working on guitar solos. No matter, they put in a pretty good set, and they seem to not be afflicted by Toni and Guy-itis like most UK metalcore bands.

The friend that accompanied enjoyed their set even more than me, but she was a little dismayed when she noticed members openly picking out pretty girls in the crowd to send backstage.

Hatebreed owned the stage from the get-go to the end, mobilising the audience into one huge slamming, moshing, finger-pointing and horn-throwing entity. It was amazing to watch from the relative safety of the Astoria Balcony.

After the show we kicked back at Garlic and Shots, and the The Cro-Bar.

Today my new copy of Alternative Magazine arrived. Three more reviews published: Wednesday 13, Satyricon and Aiden. I guess my CD reviews didn't make this issue, but they may be in the next one.

Tonight I'm going to see the Backyard Babies at the Mean Fiddler. Rock and Roll!

In the meantime I've got domestic things to worry about and that review to write.

Over and out.

-J

Hey All,

Hey all,

The Hatebreed show was pretty impressive. Unearth surprised me by actually be pretty good, even if their lead work was a little ordinary. Maybe less time watching Vulgar Video I, II and III and more time working on guitar solos. No matter, they put in a pretty good set, and they seem to not be afflicted by Toni and Guy-itis like most UK metalcore bands.

The friend that accompanied enjoyed their set even more than me, but she was a little dismayed when she noticed members openly picking out pretty girls in the crowd to send backstage.

Hatebreed owned the stage from the get-go to the end, mobilising the audience into one huge slamming, moshing, finger-pointing and horn-throwing entity. It was amazing to watch from the relative safety of the Astoria Balcony.

After the show we kicked back at Garlic and Shots, and the The Cro-Bar.

Today my new copy of Alternative Magazine arrived. Three more reviews published: Wednesday 13, Satyricon and Aiden. I guess my CD reviews didn't make this issue, but they may be in the next one.

Tonight I'm going to see the Backyard Babies at the Mean Fiddler. Rock and Roll!

In the meantime I've got domestic things to worry about and that review to write.

Over and out.

-J

Hey All

Hey,

For the past two nights I have managed to arrive in Leicester Square too late in the evening to catch the new Bond Film (actually, to be honest it was the massive crowds that put me off... I don't like to be crowded at the cinema, and I like to choose where I get to sit).

No matter, I'll catch it some other time, and Bond Movies have been a shaky concept since before I was born.

Yesterday morning I was up in my room when I heard the Mail Slot creak. Downstairs I found a letter from the DWP telling me that I had an appointment that day at 1030. Check my watch: 1130. Fuck. Fucking Fuck.

I called the number, explained the situation and rescheduled the appointment for that afternoon, but still, between the DWP and Royal Mail, I do believe somebody should alert Jim Henson's Estate, because someone is running an unauthorized Muppet House.

Speaking of Muppets, a friend of mine from Brisbane alerted me to this, which looks very cool.

And speaking of Very Cool, while I was printing off the application letters to show the DWP, I got messaged by Alt Mag asking if I wanted a pass to cover Hatebreed the next night (tonight, at time of writing). Hatebreed were a favourite band of mine back in the day, and reviewing them will be a doddle (just use the words Brutal, Hardcore, Angry and Baseball Cap in any order, and I'm there).

So naturally I jumped at the opportunity and messaged Thee Ed back fast as I could.

The show is tonight, should be cool.

Just before I got a message asking if tomorrow night I wanted to cover the Backyard Babies, a Swedish hard rock/punk outfit featuring ex members of The Hellacopters. Two nights in a row.

Groovy.

Resisting the temptation to write PRESS on a piece of card and stick it in the brim of my trilby.

Over and out.

-J

Hey all,

Hey everyone,

Last night was a mixed bag.

The Good:

- Neurosis. So apocalyptically heavy I'm surprised they didn't form a black hole over the stage. Incredible visuals as well, chilled out crowd (with a whole lot of out-of-towners kicking back), tribal drumming to die for and just an amazing performance all round.

- Low key post party with a couple of folk (six or seven) at a house in Islington.

- Leaving the post party at five thirty and catching the last 90 mins of Slimelight, cathcing up with friends and catching some cool tunes.

- After that: wander through the West End, finding hidden comic book shops in Bloomsbury, as well as scouring the other shops to see if there was any cool stuff.

The Bad:

- Getting so engrossed in Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep while riding on the Central Line that I totally didn't notice that i had dropped my gloves until I was standing on the Northern Line Platform at Bank two minutes later.

Bugger! I thought. Dad's going to kill me!

No time to chase the train, (an impossible task in any case) so I left it til morning to check all the stations on the Central Line from Bank (where I changed) all the way to Bond Street, dealing with Station Staff of varying degrees of surliness.

No luck. I've got a Lost Property Report to fill out, which I'll return later on, but I'm guessing I won't see them again.

Oh well. I had them for over a year, and i got a fair lot of wear out of them. Not to mention that last winter they saved my hands from becoming mince with fingers attached.

Mental Note: Check with Dad (again) where it was that we picked them up, so I see if it's worth getting a pair just like them.

Neurosis were still great.

-J

Show tonight.

Hey All,

Last night I headed out to Dreadnought vs Strength Through Joy at the SE1, this weird little bunker/wine cellar/subterranean enclave just away from the London Bridge tube station. Having missed most of the party last time, this time I got there in plenty of time.

And found that it was a really slow night. It cold outside, two other clubs were happening and a great number of the usual suspects were absent for whatever reason.

To add insult to injury, some of the DJs responded by not playing the best tracks because the dancefloors were empty (ie save them for when people are there to dance to them, which they did later on). A sound strategy, except it left the people who were there feeling like they were stuck in a reflexive vortex of second gear.

Still, I did have fun talking to people, including a New Zealander who has been here for three months and a couple of other good pals of mine.

Later on I danced pretty hard and had fun. In all honesty, I haven't danced like that in months. Since the club ended at four AM, it was a chain of night buses to get home, but I had some new CDs on my ipod to ease the journey (the other day I splashed out a bit and got Yes Virginia - The Dresden Dolls, Dimension Hatross - Voivod, Devils Among Us - Walls of Jericho and a CD of Birthday Party songs covered by the 31G Roster).

Tonight I go to see Neurosis who are playing their yearly show in London.

Neurosis are strangely special in my heart because in the early days a good friend of mine took a liking to Uruk Hai because he could tell 'we totally were influenced by Neurosis'.

We would all say 'Exactly! We love Neurosis, we're so glad you could pick that up!'

Truth was, we didn't really know Neurosis from a bar of soap, we just played our strange tribal noise-metal the way we wanted to (except for me... I wanted to play Black Metal, Death Metal, Grindcore and tech-noise).

Anyways, time for me to get ready.

Over and out.

-J

Hey Everyone

Hey All,

More blogging to let you know that I'm still alive.

First of all, the weather here in London grows every cooler (though the weathermen tell us that some nights it is warmer than it should be... I don't notice so much, I just know that some nights I've gone to bed in four layers, only to pull them all off at three AM).

The downside to this drop in the mercury is that the skin on my hands is suffering a little. Last night I had the first Crack and Bleed of the season. Joy. Thank fuck I found my gloves last week. In any case, I've trying to think of good times for me to put on hand cream (can't do it on the tube because I'm constantly reading/adjusting ipod etc). I need to find times when I know that I won't be using my hands for anything for an hour or more.

Maybe I should start a meditation regime and work it into that. Hmm.

Anyways, the review that I wrote of the Vader/God Dethroned show is up on Morrigan's Pit. I'll edit this entry in Firefox so that I can wang a link onto it.

edit: Here's the link./edit

I guess when the next Alternative Magazine comes out I really should scan all my reviews and put them somewhere online (it makes only a little more sense than retyping them, but I'm feeling impetuous).

Last night I could have gone to see Rancid at the Brixton Academy (although it might have been sold out, I'm not sure).

Instead I decided to go see Fishbone, a band that I really dug way back in the day. As in the day that I was watching The Noise on SBS and I saw the clip for Sunless Saturday and my fifteen year-old self was blown away by the sheer energy of the song and the band.

I never got to see Fishbone when they toured Australia. They came in 1992 and played at the Funkyard, a legendary venue in the basement of the Myer Centre that was soon after turned into a Sizzler Restaurant. Marco used to DJ there, age 14.

In any case, I was too young to see them. I don't think that they ever came back to Australia after that. They might have but it might have been in my 'I Can't Be Arsed Going To Shows' years, during which I managed to completely miss the Brisbane Powerviolence Scene burn brightly before burning out.

Anyways, I always wanted to see Fishbone, partially because they were an influence on my musical philosophy (light-speed energy, intelligent irreverent approach, no rules etc) but because they were/are legendary as a live band. Which presents the question: when I saw them Last Night at the Islington Academy, were they any good?

Answer: They were bloody brilliant. Bear in mind that only two or three members from the 1991/92 lineup remain now (the rest being various other folk, including Rocky George, ex-Suicidal Tendencies). The lead singer Angelo Moore is still there, and he was always pretty much the lynchpin of the Fishbone machine.

Anyways, trying to explain what made the show good here would take me all night, so I'll just give you the whistlestop version:

Angelo Moore is one of the best frontmen I've ever seen, with stupid amounts of energy, mad dance moves, magnetic presence and a great singing voice. Plus he is capable of delivering insane solos on the various Saxophones he played on stage, not to mention being pretty damn good at playing the Theremin (an instrument which is bloody difficult).

Rocky George is still Rocky George, a guitarist with incredible range (when I saw him playing with the CroMags at Mary Street three or so years ago, between songs he would play mad jazz stuff). For reasons best known to himself, he has grown a huge Afro.

The horn section (trumpet and trombone, besides Angelo in the Sax) were fat and fantastic, Norwood on Bass and wassisname on drums were one of the best rhythm sections I have ever seen and Dre on keys and synths held his end up fantastically, even dropping into some raggamuffin toasting.

A question: I'm not sure precisely, but when Dre spoke he didn't have a West Indian Accent, so I'm guessing that Dre isn't of West Indian Extraction. True, I'll have to check more about his, but if black man who isn't actually West Indian adopts a West Indian Raggamuffin vocal delivery, is it any less of a Cultural Appropriation than if an Anglo-Saxon did the same thing?

I guess I'm on dangerous territory asking that question, so I'll just move along.

Individually, each member of Fishbone were impressive. But together they were just incredible, creating driving Ska Grooves, soulful RnB (the good kind, if such a beast exists, otherwise I have mislabelled what they did), and some incredible stuff that I just don't know how to describe. The vocal harmonies on their own nearly brought tears to my eyes, since you just don't hear harmonies like that without some RnB diva bullshit going on.

And they played Sunless Saturday as their set closer. Which was great.

This Whistlestop Tour is turning into a novel, so I'll end there.

Tonight I'm going to Dreadnought vs Strenght Through Joy (the last time it was on I missed most of the night since I had to meet Elea at the Airport, Bring her back to Leytonstone the try to remember how to get to SE1 etc).

Anyways, more news as it comes.

Over and out

- Jason

Scribble Scribble Scribble

Hey All,

I've been scribbling away.

Thursday night the Stone Sour show was so-so (amazing drummer Roy Mayorga aside), but from the Astoria balcony I scribbled plenty of notes.

Saturday Night I nearly had a pass to cover a Paul Simon show in Birmingham for a BBC website, but that fell through (lesson in my life: nothing good comes for free), which wasn't too bad, since I didn't feel like going to Brum and then freezing to death after the show.

Sunday I got an SMS from the Alt Mag editor asking if I wanted to contribute any CD reviews. So I picked out the two CDs I most recently bought that made an impression on me, checked the Alt Mag to make sure they hadn't already been covered (unlikely, since they both came out since the last Mag went to press), wrote 80 words on each and e-mailed them off today.

Neato.

Also sent the Stone Sour review today.

Scribble Scribble Scribble.

According to the Ed, the new mag should be out sometime soon. I still haven't scanned the reviews from the last one. D'oh!

No matter.

Kinda by accident (I was googling the drummer from the Dresden Dolls to see if I could find out what kit he uses), last week I found the website for Gail Worley (http://worleygig.com/), a flamboyant music journalist based in NYC. I reckon her stuff would be worth exploring.

Anyways, a friend of mine is just about to move back to Texas, and tonight is her going away party of sorts. So I have to be off and say goodbye.

Over and out.

-J

Hey Hey

Hey,

Totally forgot to mention that the other day I was walking down Leytonstone High Road, and I saw Ken Loach with a film crew shooting a scene for his upcoming movie These Times.

Over and out,

-J

Another free show tonight:

Hey All,

After going to Stratford to pay my rent, I took a bus to Homerton to return some library books.

While stuck on the bus back from Homerton (what the fuck was up with the W15's today, seriously?) I got a message from the editor of Alt Mag asking if I wanted to cover the Stone Sour show tonight at the Astoria.

All things being equal, I was thinking that I might catch a late ticket to see Opeth and Paradise Lost at the Roundhouse. But I've already seen both Opeth (two or three times) and Paradise Lost (once, but not terribly impressed), and a free ticket beats paying for a show.

I'm not that big on Stone Sour (or even Slipnot, for that matter), but getting my scribblings in print trumps any personal feelings I have towards bands (with the exception of Ben Lee, who earlier this year I found to be so smug and dull in concert that writing a review of the show probably would have resulted in a suit of Libel against fasterlouder.com.au).

So I'm back here at the flat, ready to defrag for a minute, check out some stuff about Stone Sour and then head out again in time to catch their set.

At least this is one band that I'm sure won't cause me to gush all over the monitor again.

Over and out,

Jason

Found my gloves:

I found my gloves, predictably while I was looking for some scissors.

Which is good, because the skin on the back of my hands was just starting to dry out on the edges.

Hooray.

Over and out.

-J

Great shows:

Hey,

This weekend I saw at least two great shows.

Friday I was sent by Morrigan's Pit to review God Dethroned (from Holland). But as it was, I also had a ticket to see The Dresden Dolls at the Roundhouse. I had mixed up the dates, and wound up not being able to get rid of the ticket.

I could have bugged out straight after GD and caught nearly all of the Dresden Dolls Set, but I thought I'd stick around at the Underworld and see what the headliners, Polish Death Legends Vader, were like.

And Vader were so good I couldn't tear myself away until the end of the set (which finished with a cover of Raining Blood).

Tube to Chalk Farm from Camden, and into the Roundhouse, which as you would expect, is a big, round, space.

The Stage was set up against the side at what could be called the back. Bear in mind, I only got to see a half or a third of the set, but what I saw blew me away. Amanda's voice is more powerful than on record, and Brian's drums were massive. Not to mention that he may be a skinny man, but Brian belts the kit with the force of a 303 round.

Next Night:

Took a nap in the afternoon, woke up in the early evening and realised that I had missed all of the support acts.

Pell-Melled to Chalk Farm and caught the last half of the Dresden Dolls again. Second night in a row, blown away by the performance.

Damn they were good.

Interesting note: one of the support acts they had brought to London to perform was Zen Zen Zo, the butoh style physical theatre group from Brisbane that various friends of mine were involved with, to one degree or another. Interesting.

Enough from me.

Over and out.

-jason

Hey All,

Hey,

Today I headed out into the deepening chill with a couple of missions to accomplish.

First of all, I had to get a Dresden Dolls Ticket for Saturday Night. Done.

They I had to check out Borders to get my weekly Kerrang and 2000AD magazines.

While I was in Borders, I decided to go looking for a new Tube Book (like I said, a book small enough to fit into my jacket pocket that I can read on the tube).

I wound up buying Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson, The Princess Bride by William Goldman and Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Philip K Dick. Of course, only the last one is small enough to fit in my pocket, but the other two will make for good reading otherwise (and maybe will be good transit books if I start carrying a satchel again).

After that I took a wander to Marks and Spencers and the Selfridges to look at the gloves available, in case I can't find my pair of gloves soon. I know that I didn't lose them outside my flat, since I know that I would remember suddenly not having them. They must be somewhere in my room, but where, and under what I'm not sure right now.

I guess at some point I'm going to have that overdue cleanup of my room. The last one was a couple of months back when I bought the bookshelf, desk and chair.

Tomorrow night I'm reviewing some Death Metal in Camden.

Saturday Night I see The Dresden Dolls.

In the meantime I have books to read.

Hoorah.

Over and out.

-Jason