Jane’s Addiction/Nine Inch Nails, 6/7/09

Tonight, Jane’s Addiction and Nine Inch Nails played Jones Beach Theater, along with Street Sweeper Social Club. One thing I felt fortunate about growing up in Colorado was seeing shows at Red Rocks, but I have to say, seeing concerts literally on the water—as with Jones Beach—feels special, too. And even though Jane’s frontman Perry Ferrell kept saying, “Tonight is a historic event,” it sort of was.

Not only was this the original lineup of Jane’s Addiction’s first time playing in the New York area since 1991, but—if Ferrell’s memory serves correct from the way he introduced “Jane Says” at the end of the set—this is also the band’s 25th anniversary. The group played a hit-filled set, including (going by memory and not in order) “Had a Dad,” “Mountain Song,” “Ocean Size,” “Ted, Just Admit It…” (accompanied by a canopy depicting sex and violence and Natural Born Killers footage, see below), “Stop!” “Ain’t No Right” and “Been Caught Stealing.” (Why no “Classic Girl”?) Throughout the set Ferrell was swigging a bottle of wine in between poses and spouting off about grabbing his crotch, and how sometimes you’ve got to do it. (This was around the time it dawned on me that JA is pretty much an even split between the Doors and Led Zep, with a little Bootsy Collins thrown in.) At one point during “Ocean Size,” I think it was, Ferrell said, “I was just getting to the sexy part,” which had me in stitches because it was so non sequitur. It was nice to see original bassist Eric Avery back in the fold, but he seemed out of it for most of the show or upset. Nonetheless, they played a great set and—for not having seen them in 10 years—it was, I guess, historic, for me personally.

Tonight was the first time I had seen Nine Inch Nails live. What struck me most about about their show was that frontman Trent Reznor and the rest of the band hate instruments. Each member threw a guitar at one point (as my friend Reed said, “That acoustic guitar didn’t stand a chance, Robin Finck”), and Reznor threw several mic stands at drummer Ilan Rubin. “Burn,” from the Natural Born Killers soundtrack was a surprise, a cover of “I’m Afraid of Americans” was welcome, and “Wish” was fun, but I would have liked to hear even more stuff from the first few releases (especially since this year is the 20th anniversary of Pretty Hate Machine). I found it odd that they were playing in the middle—going on during daylight—even though they played a full set, including an encore of “Hurt.” The dichotomy between the NIN and Jane’s Addiction fans was pretty black and white, and many of the NIN fans seemed to leave during the Jane’s set. At the end of the night, there was a girl on the way to the parking lot with a “Free Hugs” sign, and we can only imagine which band she had come to see.

Openers Street Sweeper Social Club—a new group featuring Rage Against the Machine guitarist Tom Morello and Coup rapper Boots Riley—were quite good, too. They came onstage to Darth Vader’s theme in Star Wars. Throughout the set, Riley kept saying, “We’re more than a band. We’re a social club.” Their novel feat, aside from Morello’s always incendiary guitar playing, was doing an almost note-for-note rendition of M.I.A.’ s “Paper Planes.” The music sounded better than the original samples. The band’s debut is out June 16, and I like it quite a bit. In a way, this band was the glue between DIW optimism and recession-fueled negativity that held together the other two bands tonight even though they played earlier. In fact the only drawback from the whole night—and detractor to the bands’ anti-consumerism ethos—was the venue’s high prices for drinks (and they don’t serve alcohol). It’s a good thing its on the water.

Street Sweeper Social Club

A swan on the harbor during Street Sweeper’s set
Nine Inch Nails

Jane’s Addiction

True Norwegian Death Metal

There are a few countries have become well known, if not fetishized, for specific types of extreme metal. England has doom metal and grindcore, the U.S. and Sweden have distinct kinds of death metal and, of course, Norway has black metal. But as the world focuses on the black and white—or in this case just the black—it’s easy to overlook some of Norway’s pretty cool death-metal accomplishments. Although the country blazed into prominence (literally) in the early ’90s, when bands like Mayhem, Darkthrone, and Burzum reignited music fans’ interest in black metal—and although their neighbor to the east, Sweden, has gotten far more credit for death metal—the country of corpse paint and fjords already had a sturdy foundation in great death metal. With that, I hope to draw some attention to some grievously overlooked, and unfortunately many out-of-print, “True Norwegian Death Metal” albums (ranked in order of quality). Enjoy these however you can.

1) Molested, Blod Draum (Effigy, 1995)
Between the violin, didgeridoo-type sounds, and mouth harp(!), Blod Drom is as intriguing as it is terrifying. Even when they stayed traditional, Bergen’s Molested created some of the best, most forward-thinking death metal of any country during the ’90s, bolstered by the relentless riffs and bilious growls of Borknagar frontman Øystein G. Brun and some breakneck, off-time blast beats by sometime Gorgoroth drummer Erlend “Sersjant” Erichsen. Utterly essential. (Ars Magna Recordings is planning a re-release of all of Molested’s albums this year, click here for more info.)

To read the rest at Revolvermag.com, click here.

Melvins’ 25th Anniversary, 5/15/09

Sludge rockers Melvins celebrated their 25th anniversary at Webster Hall last night. As a special treat, before playing their classic 1993 album Houdini in its entirety, big-haired main man Buzz Osborne—dressed in his trademark druidesque robes—introduced us to the “original 1983 lineup”: Mike Dillard (“who just got out of prison”) on drums and Matt Lukin (“who also just got out of prison and needs a place to stay”) on bass. Thing is, it wasn’t the sometime-Mudhoney bassist Lukin, for whom they have ill feelings—it was 1984-to-present drummer Dale Crover, who kept the joke going, by saying “I have weed,” in his facetious angling for a place to stay. Talk about grudges.

The trio’s “1983” set consisted mostly of the sort of hardcore on Black Flag’s album from that year, My War, and consisted of songs available on the band’s Mangled Demos From 1983 CD. The music was far cry from the noise-rock and pseudo-soundtrack music the group is playing today, but was still pretty exciting. Reflecting on his career at one point, Osborne said, “Why the hell did I do this? I could have done anything. I could have been a fucking lawyer, like, three times over already.” Dillard played well, especially for having been off the grid for a while and for having to open for Crover, one of the greatest drummers ever. (Aside: With the exception of bassist-drummer Greg Hokanson and, uh, Kurt Cobain, all three of these musicians played in Cobain’s pre-Nirvana project Fecal Matter.)

At one point Dillard left the drum stool to play a snare that was set off to the side of the stage for Houdini’s all-drum closer “Spread Eagle Beagle,” which the band would play later, and Crover assumed the drum throne. Dillard then left the stage, and Buzz and Dale played sans drummer for a while, including an awesome cover of Alice Cooper’s “Ballad of Dwight Fry,” from Melvins’ Lysol album. (Incidentally, the band Big Business, two of whose members have comprised Melvins’ other half—literally—for the past three years, is touring as at the same time of this tour—so no two-drummer setup tonight; also, despite speculation, sometime Melvins bassist Joe Preston, who is in town, didn’t show up either, which is wise, because in interviews the band members still say worse things about him than they do Lukin.) There aren’t many bands who can open for themselves, since this was “An Evening With the Melvins,” and play enough styles of music that you felt like you’d seen three bands. During the middle, no-bass set, I got to thinking, For all of the duo’s bass-player changes through the years, when I was watching this I was wondering why they ever bothered with bass players at all, it sounded so raw and dirty.

Then, with no pause at all, sometime Mr. Bungle bassist Trevor Dunn, clad in his own camouflage druid robes, came out for the beginning of the Houdini set and put my supposition to rest. Dude flung his bass in the air and faceplanted the headstock right into the stage to make the loudest, lowest feedback I can remember (it didn’t hurt I was in the front row right in front of his amp). From there, it all made sense.

From “Hooch” to the over-10-minute drum extravaganza “Beagle,” the band made the record sound nastier than the studio versions. “Lizzy,” “Set Me Straight” and “Honey Bucket” stand out as three highlights, mostly because of Buzz’s petulant snarl. Feeding off that, at one point Crover was hitting the gong behind him so hard that it fell right over. During “Beagle,” both Dunn and Dillard banged on snares on either side of Crover (mostly not in unison) for an insufferable amount of time. Osborne just walked offstage and sat down during this song. Dunn and Crover closed the show with a drum-and-bass blues jam, during which Buzz came back and thanked everyone for coming out. “I want to thank your wives for letting you come out tonight,” he also said, as well as, “I want to thank your parents for not making you go to school tomorrow.” (“Tomorrow” is a Saturday.) With that, the band was done; it was 10 pm and time for Webster Hall to turn into a dance club. I left feeling like I’d seen something special—not just another Melvins gig. I’m looking forward to seeing what they do the next time they come through.

Dale Crover as “Matt Lukin”:

Mike Dillard on drums:

Buzz and Dale, sans bass:

Trevor Dunn:

The Thermals, 5/9/2009

I got caught in a mosh… at the Thermals. The last time I saw the punky Portland indie-rock trio was at the basement of Fontana’s during a music fest, and while the audience pogo’d as if it was back in fashion, it was nothing compared to what I experienced Saturday night at the Bowery Ballroom. I was flummoxed to see the boys’ club take over the front, and it seems to have gotten to the band a bit, too. A friend told me that the night before, bassist Kathy Foster said, “Don’t make us go Fugazi on you,” since that band famously stops whenever things get rowdy (“Music is not a contact sport,” after all), and at the show I saw frontman Hutch Harris openly made fun of crowdsurfers and, bearing a snarl, even almost elbowed one when he got too close. While it came nothing close to a metal show, it got annoying quickly.

The band made up for it, though, and their wider audience is well-deserved (even the girl who wore a skull mask, below). Although they’ve gotten some criticism for their new album’s lack of politics, they make up for it with sweaty enthusiasm live, playing songs like “A Pillar of Salt” and “A Stare Like Yours” as if they were on the new album. (“When I Was Afraid” stands out as the best live-version song from Now We Can See, or at least the most memorable the next day.) Thank God the Thermals can surpass the audience’s adrenaline overload with their own hyperactive optimism.

Spinefeast at Sea: The Best and Worst Things About Going to Finland for a Metal Cruise

Between cheaper prices for European beer and, uh, three-dollar cups of coffee, traveling is usually full of highs and lows without much in between. As such, when I went to Helsinki, Finland, for the Spinefeast at Sea 2009 concert cruise (repping Revolver, for which I originally wrote this blog) from Helsinki to Tallinn, Estonia, the choppy waves in the Gulf of Finland weren’t the only ups and downs I experienced. Here’s his list of the best and worst things about taking a metal cruise:

IN HELSINKI

Best Signs on the Way into Helsinki From the Airport: TECHNOPOLIS (which I can only imagine is the most badass set of music cops around or the worst Greek-named city in Europe) and BAUHAUS (not the Peter Murphy-fronted goth-rock band, but something similar to Home Depot)

Best Place to Buy Deep Purple CDs (in Probably the Whole World): Music Hunter in Helsinki. The store had an entire fixture dedicated to Deep Purple-related CDs. Who knew Joe Lynn Turner was so popular?

Coolest Roadside Fake Store: God’s Gas (brought to you by the Blood Covenant Brothers). OK!

Most Metal (and, Incidentally, the Most Famous) Painting in Atheneum, the Art Museum: The Wounded Angel, by Hugo Simberg. Whether you feel shame from it or something more voyeuristic, you’re not feeling good. And what’s more metal than a “wounded angel”?

Most Pagan Metal Painting in Atheneum, the Art Museum: Aino Myth, Triptych, by Akseli Gallen-Kallela. Yo, is that the Korpiklaani dude accosting that naked maiden?

Most Metal Finnish Tradition: Bear claws, not of the pastry variety. In pagan Finland, parents put bear claws under sleeping children’s pillows to keep them from crying in the night. And, if that wasn’t awesome enough, young girls kept bear claws in their pockets to become “more amorous,” according to a pamphlet at the Finnish National Museum.

ON THE BOAT

Most amazing sight: Watching a couple thousand metalheads board a Titanic-sized sealiner.

Best Finnish Concert Custom: Gambling! At Dante’s Highlight, where I saw Amorphis perform, they had blackjack tables in the back… and teens played 21… while drinking beer. Less surprising was the blackjack tables in the cabaret on the boat, but the fact that people were gambling during the show then, too, was pretty cool by itself.

Weirdest MCs for a Metal Fest: A man in a moose suit and a man in a sailor suit. ’Nuff said.

Best Reason to Avoid Watching Prog-Metal Band Entwine: The 2002 Cuba-Gooding-Jr.-with-a-pack-of-huskies vehicle Snow Dogs, subtitled in Finnish, being broadcast upstairs on the lighting guy’s monitor. Hey, he seemed to like it.

Best T-Shirt on a Fan: Eternal Erection

Only Finnish (Curse) Word I Learned: “Baska,” which means “shit.” (Even though Abbath once told me never to drop names—cue rim shot—I have to credit Rotten Sound vocalist Keijo Niinimaa with teaching me this one.)

Best Bagpipers to Make You Forget Korn: Metsatöll. Thank God they don’t have nu-metal in Estonia.

Most Unpleasant Beverage Surprise: Gin in a can. Much to my surprise, this is not gin, the alcohol, but a Sparks-like fermented ginger ale, perfect for puking off the side of ships.

Most Pleasant Beverage Surprise: Vodka in a can. Sure, it tastes like shit, but it’s vodka! In a can!

Most Unpleasant “How Do You Do”: The light pouring into the cabaret the second day of the fest as Celesty and Kiuas play. Never have I seen so many hungover rock zombies.

Best Metal Trooper During Kiuas’ Sunlight-Drenched Set: Mikko Laime. This dude was not only wearing a crusted Manowar T-shirt and heavily spiked armbands, which he snuck in, but also pink furry handcuffs hanging from his rock belt. Why was he wearing pink furry handcuffs? “To piss these people off. It shows I’m soft on the inside.”

Best (Only?) Instance of Recognizable English Spoken by a Band Onstage: Kiuas’ singer as he introduces “Race With the Falcons”: “My money is on the falcons!”

Most Over-the-Top Performance by a Finnish Prog-Metal Band: Kiuas again. I’ve never seen more ball-grabbing, in-audience guitar solos, or audience-band chug contests in the middle of the afternoon on a boat in the Baltic before in my life.

Grossest Breakfast of the Trip: A ham sandwich and strawberry yogurt (not together). Still, it looked better than the green piece of pizza one of my metal-journo compatriots ingested.

Most Disgusting Canned Food: Is that fucking boar?!

Most Shocking Moment: The Finnish or Estonian or Whatever stewardess who burst in on me while I was changing in my cabin on the cruise. The relevant fact is that she didn’t speak English and she absolutely, without protest wanted me out of the room right then and there so she could change the sheets. I screamed, I gesticulated, I spoke slowly and she just continued to yell at me in her native tongue. Eventually she pulled out her cell phone, typed in “30”—which I took to mean “Get the hell out of the room in 30 minutes…or else!”—and left. I’ve never laced my belt and buckled it so quick. The room sure was clean, though, when I got back.

Best Way to Show Your Love for Mötley Crüe: Tattües!

Most Offensive Question a Finn Asked Me (While Very, Very Drunk): “Now that you have a black president, what are you going to do? Invade Finland?” Uhh…

Coolest Finnish National Concept: Sisu. The way the same drunk Finn explained it, it’s sort of like guts or balls: “Seeing someone assassinate your entire family right in front of you, and then when the killer points the gun at you, you flip him off.” Apparently years of being invaded by the Russians and the Swedes and the Germans can have that effect on a country.

Oddest Point of National Pride: Nokia is a Finnish company. Not Japanese. I don’t know how many people told me this, but now I know. Incidentally, the Nokia phone belonging to the one dude who told me this fact uncountable times didn’t work. Ouch.

Most Metal Way off the Ship in Case of Emergency: The VIKING Evacuation Chute.

Worst Disappointment About Taking a Metal Cruise From Helsinki to Estonia: The ship didn’t dock! Oh look, there’s Estonia. I’m still saying I made it to Tallinn, because my cell-phone company charged me Estonian rates ($1.99/min.!) for my calls on the boat.

BACK IN HELSINKI

Coolest Regular Nightclub Night That Should Be More Widespread in America: Heavy metal karaoke. At a bar called the Heavy Corner across the street from my hotel, every Saturday night, the Finns hold this ritual. They even have a Spinefarm-specific karaoke disc, which includes songs by Nightwish and Children of Bodom—which people choose to sing. Quite often. Best moment at heavy metal karaoke? The Finn shouting, “Scream or me, California,” midway through Iron Maiden’s “2 Minutes to Midnight.”

Most Metal Metal Statue at the Heavy Corner: This flying demon completing the perfect trifecta: Holding a pitchfork, holding a flying-V guitar, and flipping you off!

Shop in Helsinki’s Vantaa Airport That I Wish Was in Every Airport: Wine & View. Basically, for only a few Euros, you can taste some of the finest, rarest wines in the world. Granted, they serve you the drink in a thimble, but with some Brie cheese it’s a pretty cool experience.

Coolest Art Installation at the Contemporary Art Museum: This book floating in water. If only the security there looked away long enough that I could have snuck a Revolver in the tank with it.

Spinefeast at Sea, 1/28/09 and 1/29/09

I just posted my review of Spinefeast at Sea 2009 on revolvermag.com:

The Baltic Princess cruise ship can carry roughly three quarters of the passengers who boarded the Titanic. Unlike on that fateful journey, though, the would-be mariners who held tickets for Spinefeast at Sea 2009—Finnish record label Spinefarm’s annual showcase, held on the Baltic Princess this year—can be thankful none of the eight metal bands providing the entertainment had to play their blast beats as the ship sank.

Traveling roundtrip from Helsinki, Finland, to Tallinn, Estonia’s harbor (the cruise didn’t dock) over two days in late January, the captive black-T-shirtted audience was lucky enough to have a diverse group of mostly Finnish bands to command its headbanging. With outside temperatures in the low 20s, the likes of pagan metallers Moonsorrow, grindcore group Rotten Sound, and suicide rockers Entwine, among others, provided warm respite from the frosty climate outside.

Read the rest here.

Throwing Muses, 3/12/09

Tonight, after a great set by Screaming Females, Kristin Hersh performed twice at the Music Hall of Williamsburg: Once with 50 Foot Wave (whose music you can download, guilt-free, for free here) and then with the original screaming females, Throwing Muses. Even though there was a break, her bands were practically the same since bassist Bernard Georges plays in both bands (drummer Rob Ahlers, who harmonizes quiet well—on the higher parts—no less, is the personnel distinction with the punkier 50 Foot Wave).

Despite the anxious nature of her music, Hersh is relaxed all night, laughing and making jokes. When Throwing Muses came on—timekeeper David Narcizo being the distinguishing factor—she drolly said, “Now we’re marching to the beat of a different drummer.” The band’s set contained a lot of fan favorites (though I would have liked to have heard “Hate My Way”") including “Limbo,” “Vicky’s Box” and “Pearl.”

The room was pretty full and she and the band seemed genuinely surprised with the reception the audience gave them. “This is great,” Hersh said at one point. “We could have been playing Brooklyn for 100 shows.” I guess the one thing that surprised me somewhat about the show was how immobile Hersh was. Granted, she’s playing guitar and pulling off some pretty amazing vocal feats—and her voice still sounds great, especially when she growls—but I expected her to sway somewhat or emote some other way. The emotion came through in her delivery, though, that’s all I can really ask for.

Also, as I said before, I was entertained her charming demeanor. Before she played “Pearl,” the last song before two encores, she said, “Thanks to Screaming Females and [pauses, then laughs] 50 Foot Wave.” When she came out for her encore, she told the audience “Y’all are sweet as pie. Thank you.” Hey, I don’t think I’ve ever been called sweet as pie before. Maybe that’s why I left happy tonight.

Satyricon, 2/27/09

Satyricon frontman Satyr remains one of the most perplexing old-school black-metal figures. This is mostly because lately he seems just so… normal. Honestly, a lot of this has to do with his new haircut (and the fact he’s, like, six-feet tall and wafer-thin). You have to admit, he looks a bit like the German guys in electro-gods Kraftwerk.

Throughout Satyricon’s performance at the Nokia Theater, a 50-minute slot sandwiched between Greek death-metal openers Septic Flesh and English boy-band Cradle of Filth, Satyr’s lanky, metrosexual visage made him stick out like a sore talon. Not that that’s a bad thing or even an unwelcome one; the black-metal community has been sorely missing some variety from the corpse-painted clichés that have been populating the scene. Just three years ago, I saw Satyricon play Norway’s Hole in the Sky festival, and Satyr seemed more like a rock star, with his long hair and cut-off shirt, holding out his fists in a way that made him look a bit like Danzig.

In great contrast, tonight at the Nokia he did a great job of visually contrasting the synchronized-headbanging champs playing in his band (including drummer Frost, who hasn’t toured the US previously due to legal snafus); whether it was Cradle’s crowd or simply a new audience interested in the band’s well-refined black-and-roll sound, he really connected with the audience. During songs, he even did the “yeah, yeah, yeah" thing where the concertgoers chanted along with him. It worked.

If anything, I think this is all part of some grand scheme Satyr has concocted so he can enjoy the best of both worlds. In a recent interview I did with him for Revolver, he said he had created a new routine for the road to keep the band from atrophying, literally and metaphorically. That means no alcohol in the dressing rooms and working out at the gym every day. Bands change their aesthetics all the time, to varying degrees of success (looking at you, Cryptopsy), but for Satyricon, it seems to have been working out for the better. Even his onstage banter was unusual for a black-metal band. In addition to saying how much he appreciated his fans (the usual), he said it was an “honor” to be playing New York City (most metal bands don’t care, unless they’re playing Madison Square Garden—or play it off as such). Satyr’s gregarious nature led to some of the best unplanned dialog of the night, though, was when he introduced the band’s drummer by saying, “From the mountainous cities of Norway… Frost!” Having been to Norway, I can assure you, New York has ’em beat for “mountainous” cities. (Maybe I’m just mincing words here.)

Playing the Nokia amplified these inconsistencies. The TV screens, which show the performers up-close to the fans too lazy or uninterested to stand in the pit, focused often on handheld cameras and phones snapping pics of the band. (No, none of mine made the big screen.) And after the band played “Mother North” (setlist at the bottom), the night’s most black-metal song, the big screen faded to a promo for an upcoming concert by “Red Red Wine” singers UB40.

Sometimes it’s painful to watch an artist you’ve followed for years (decades?) change so much. Satyr is not the same artist I saw in Norway at Hole in the Sky. But while I’m not totally used to his new look, I think it’s working out for Satyricon, the band. As a fan, I would have liked to hear (a lot) more old material but, honestly, I don’t have a problem passing the torch to a new set of fans either.

Oh yeah, he jumped in the audience once. Don’t the kids just love it?

Satyricon setlist:

1. Repined Bastard Nation
2. The Wolfpack
3. Now, Diabolical
4. Black Crow on a Tombstone
5. K.I.N.G.
6. Die by My Hand
7. The Pentagram Burns
8. Mother North