Bonded By Blood - Exiled to Earth (2010) [Earache] // Grade: C+

There’s a time in every band’s music career where they have to choose between two paths: a new direction and progression or just the same ol same ol. Sure, your debut might have slaughtered thousands of fans but there’s only so many ADD kids out there who appreciate balls to the wall thrash with little direction and guidance. Take Bonded by Blood’s career. When Feed the Beast came out, people thought “ok, I get it, these guys like old-school Exodus and Maiden”. But when their new album, Exiled to Earth was announced, everyone was kinda hoping for something new from the band. Instead, we get force-fed the same yawning experience. If I wanted to hear Exodus, I’d listen to Exodus. Nah mean?

Not to say that Exiled to Earth isn’t a prime example of California “old school thrash” because it is. Jose “Aladdin” Barrales’ vocals very much fit the bill of an 80′s thrash band. The riffs are there, along with the crowd chants and lead takeoffs fill the 42-minute assault. At a certain point though, it comes across as a hokey-gimmick. I just picture the band practicing in their parent’s garage on a cul-de-sac somewhere in the ‘burbs. That’s the best imagery I can supply because the literal translation of cul-de-sac is “bottom of bag” and that’s just what Exiled to Earth is; an album about robots killing people in the future. What? Really?

Critique aside, I’m sure there’s a long-haired and mustached, sleeveless shirt wearing uncle somewhere who will jam out to this in his 1980′s GMC van with a unicorn airbrushed on the side. Ok, a wizard, not a unicorn. But still. I had high hopes for Bonded By Blood doing something, well new and all we get is the same regurgitated and predictable trash. Oops, I mean thrash. There are some nice moments in the album though. “Prison Planet” and “ Sector 87” are two outstanding performance pieces. The title track “Exiled To Earth” isn’t too bad either and the drumming in “Prototype: Death Machine” is note-worthy. I know that sounds like a good amount of decent tracks but I’m merely pointing out the best on the album.

Sure, this was a harsh review but sometimes an album just hits you where you least expect it to. These expectations really do lead to your like or dislike of a band. While Feed the Beast was a pleasant experience, sometimes too much of a ‘meh’ thing gets toxic. Exiled to Earth isn’t a bad album, just not what I wanted to hear. With all of the futuristic overtones in the album, you’d think the band would do something, I dunno, new?

Welcome ya’ll to your den of nerd iniquity. A palace of horrors so wretched, you’re going to beg to have your mind-raped by a less absurd nerd. This is Press Start!, the gaming column of your nightmares. Every Friday I run down the top five things that caught my All Seeing Eye this week in the world of Blast Processing and Super-FX chips. The list is in no particular order, and it reflects nothing in the ways of ranking importance in the gaming community. That would necessitate a keen eye and analytical powers. I’m raw nerd stupidity, yo. Hit the comments box with your nerd highlights of the week.

#1: Nerd Organizes Legit Orgy Around PAX Convention
The gaming convention organized by the dudes from Penny Arcade is pretty righteous unto itself. A place where nerds can congregate. You know, sweat profusely, wear cosplay that shows folds and flaps of skin no other human being wants to see, and play some unreleased video games. I ain’t trying to sound disparaging, I would actually give a flank of skin to be able to fly out to Seattle and indulge in this creamy gaming goodness.

But I’m broke and Mom says at 27 I can’t get an allowance no moh’. Fuck.

So even with all this awesomeness, one dude has seen fit to kick the nerd depravity up a fucking notch. A chap even a bit more salacious than myself. He’s organizing a fucking orgy for nerds during the convention. Interest? Well, hit up his Craigslist advertisement and get in on the debauchery.

How fucking radical is this shit? I mean, seriously. After a long day of awesome Q&A Panels, video game playing, perhaps a nerd concert, what’s the best way to unwind? By gathering with a bunch of other like-minded individuals and filling a room with fluids and the stank of nerd balls and vaginas.

As perhaps predicted, the dude has already updated the Craigslist Ad with something along the lines of “Eh yo! Horny Dudes! There’s like a zillion of you, and unless we’re going to get into a wonderful chain 69 of dude on dude action, I gotta stop taking your replies and wait for some chicks to get in on this goodness.”

Please God, someone at least go to this for inquisitive means and get back to me. You don’t have to partake, you just must take notes. A casual observer.

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#2: Talented Dude Recreates Sonic Level In Gorgeous 2.5D Widescreen
Being a fan of Sonic the Hedgehog is tough. Like, real tough. With a solid decade of suckery under his belt, any glowing feelings I had for him have eroded. Like a dudebro’s chances of getting into that PAX Orgy. Dried up in withered in a puddle of tears. But videos like this bring me back to the hay-day of Sonicy goodness. A good chap by the name of BlobVanDam went out of his way to recreate Sonic & Knuckle’s Mushroom Hill Zone in glorious modern visuals.

I don’t know what sort of Gaming Voodoo or Black Geek Magic he employed to recreate the level, but it’s a fleeting glimpse into what every single failed Sonic game in the past painful ten years should have looked like. It’s side-scrolling bonery. Dear Sega, we just want to run really fucking fast collecting things as one of the greatest examples of X-TREME 1990′S culture. I want to fly furiously through a level of Sonic the Hedgehog and then read some Rob Liefeld X-Force.

Like the good ole days.

When I wasn’t getting rejected for nerd orgies.

(more…)

After 10 years in the making Insane Clown Posse’s Big Money Rustlas is finally here! Many juggalos, much like myself never actually thought this movie would see the light of day when it was teased to us in late 2000, but the clowns finally delivered. Sadly all this wait was mainly for nothing, as Big Money Rustlas is mostly a disappointment.

Don’t get me wrong, it has some positives as ICP knows how and does caters to their fan base within the film.  There are lots of inside jokes, cameos, references, etc, etc that the normal viewer wouldn’t get or really care about, but any self respecting ninja will find pretty satisfying. It also has far better production value than there first foray into film, 2000′s Big Money Hustlas. But overall, Big Money Rustlas is basically the same movie as Hustlas with the Wild, Wild West replacing a backdrop of New York City.

The cast is hardly the A list crowd, but features all of the Psychopathic camp along with the likes of Jason Mewes, Ron Jeremy, Tom Sizemore, Brigitte Nielsen, Vanilla Ice, Todd Bridges, Dustin Diamond and a slew of wrestling legends in what’s mostly a slapstick comedy riddled with dick and fart jokes.

Big Baby Chips (Violent J) runs the town of Mud Bug with his henchmen Dusty Poot (Monoxide) and Raw Stank (Jamie Madrox) via a gambling ring. A new sheriff comes to town by the name of Sugar Wolf (Shaggy 2 Dope) to try and clean up the town in the name of his dead father. As I said, it’s pretty much the same exact plot as BMH only revamped to a different time and place. The movie definitely has a few funny moments, but lacks a lot of the originality that the first outing had. If you are a fan of ICP and can keep up with all the Easter eggs littered in this for the Juggalo faithful then give it a whirl because you’ll probably get a kick or two out of it. But I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone who merely gets a kick out of “Miracles” video or is intrigued by the meme that ICP has become. I doubt you’ll be able to get through it.

The movie has been out for about a week and ICP is already talking about their next movie project. Twiztid always steals the show in these movies, so lets hope whatever ICP decides to do next either prominently features or is a vehicle for Jamie Madrox and Monoxide.

Twin Shadow - Forget (2010) [Terrible] // Grade: A

Ahh, the simple pleasures… that’s really all I want in an album. Sure, I’ll get enticed by something exotic and weird, but in the end, all I really want is something I can play over and over and over again, singing and humming the words and melodies. The past year or so hasn’t been barren from these sorts of albums, but they’ve all seemed too contrived and calculated in the end (see: Girls, The Drums).  Sure I’ll let it play and even like it, but I hate knowing that my strings are being pulled just to elicit a feeling. And when I know that’s the case, the album and its music become frivolous, a passing novelty that I’ll tire of. I want my pop simple, effortless and without pretense. For the best of it, the artist never realizes just how transcendent it is, and the songs are penned for no other reason than he or she needed to get them out.  So with that said, I welcome the most gloriously simple and perfect joy of song that I’ve heard in a good long time, with Twin Shadow’s debut album Forget.

Twin Shadow is really just George Lewis Jr., a young Dominican gentleman living in Brooklyn by way of Florida. And while you’ve probably never heard of  George Lewis Jr. yet, you will… you must! No one with this kind of knack for penning simple and personal lyrics about love and romance can stay a secret for too long. He’s one part Morrissey and two parts Edwyn Collins, drawing you in with his smooth voice and effortless melodies, with the sort of tales anyone can easily apply to some aspect of their life or personal history. You’ll pine, you’ll reminisce and you’ll want to dance across the duration of this album thinking about past and current relationships. And if that sounds sappy to you, well you have never lived and loved, my friend! But if you’ve ever at any point in your life spent an evening weighed down by the lovesick truths of a Smiths album, you’ll understand the cathartic beauty and romanticism that this album evokes. It’s a strange drug.  Forget delivers through and through from start to finish. It’s a shame that Twin Shadow has just this one album, because once it ends, all I wanted was to hear more and more.

Forget marks the first full length for Grizzly Bear’s Chris Taylor and his fledgling Terrible records imprint (their first ever record was the Class Actress EP, released earlier this year). It also happens to be Taylor’s first foray into producing for an artist that isn’t Grizzly Bear. Sticking mostly to inspiration from light 80s synth-pop, Taylor does a fantastic job of crafting a sound that suits a singer/songwriter like George Lewis Jr., by showcasing his voice in a way that both sets it apart from but knowingly gives nods to his romantic peers.

Forget is familiar and comforting, and never outdated–be it now, then or twenty years from now. This is the sort of album that resonates not because it’s original or different, but because it’s heartfelt and goddamn good, which seems to be getting harder and harder to pull off. So while it might be too soon to start mapping out your Fall romances, we all know that at some point you’re going to need something to sooth your broken heart on a dark and cold weekend night. Forget will be there for you, I swear.

You can currently purchase Forget for just $1 (North America only) via Twin Shadow’s website. You can’t even ride on the train for a dollar. Buy it! It’ll be one of your best investments ever. The vinyl comes out on September 28th.

Unless you have been hiding under a rock, you would have noticed that bacon is making a lot of noise lately. Bacon this and bacon that. Just google bacon, and look at the images, its everywhere and in everything.

Now I am a huge fan of bacon and bacon products but really, some of these examples are just ridiculous.

I know when I start building my zombie bunker, after guns and water, the second thing I’m going to be buying will be Tactical Bacon. Each beautiful can has about 54 pieces of man’s favorite food and it has a shelf life of about 10 years (or so they say).

So long after the zombie plague has wrought it’s havoc on mankind and as humanity starts to rebuild, we will still be able to enjoy the little things, like bacon That is, if you make it.

I’m not a coffee drinker at all. With that said, let me introduce you to the latest in the everything tastes better with bacon. Boca Java’s Maple Bacon Morning coffee smells just like a complete cooked breakfast, but with none of the messy pans.

I think I need to smell this first hand but, even that is just gross to me.

That’s right, not even the capsaicin-obsessed world of hot sauces is safe from the world-dominating power of pork.

Bacon Hot Sauce melds the spicy red stuff with smoky bacon flavor, making perfect for use on eggs, in salsas, chili, and bloody marys, especially when they’re made with Bakon Vodka.

Hurts – Wonderful Life

The Associates – Club Coutry (Live on Top of the Pops)

Peter Gabriel – Red Rain

Japan – Gentlemen Take Polaroids

Glass Candy – Feeling Without Touching

Check the post-date? Check. Check that there are less than a million views? Check.

Hateball tries his hand again at posting Memes to the Bloglin. And continues his nasty habit of talking about himself in the third person. I love this video, it makes me laugh, and I think it’s awesome. If it’s a 5 year old repost that you have all seen before and before and before, well, I am truly sorry. I am new to the internets.

And I’ll take a pat on the back for not posting the Cee-Lo video here. Yes, I am one of those assholes who thinks the song and the video are genius.

I have to give props to Dennis Chow AKA GlamNation for cluing me on this band. I’d never heard of them until he randomly IMed me some of their songs saying that if I liked Jesus & Mary Chain that I should hear this band from the UK. I was kind of expecting something along the lines of the Crocodiles or A Place to Bury Strangers… you know that heavily fuzzed out shoegazery driven rock… but I’m not sure if that description is accurate for The Blanche Hudson Weekend.

Sure they have that classic 60s Phil Spector inspired rock structure J&MC relied on so heavily and really hit that fuzzed out JM&C sound on “The Last Ride” and the aptly titled “Noise and Fury,” this is a much more delicate band that’s more akin to the delicate twee and dream pop of the Shop Assistants, Marine Girls, Galaxie 500 (a lot) and most recently Frankie Rose & The Outs. Which in no small part is due mainly to the sweet and tender voice of Caroline McChrystal.

The Blanche Hudson Weekend was formed from the ashes of The Manhattan Love Suicides, a band I’ll admit I’m not at all familiar with besides the fact that they’re named after a Richerd Kern film. From their ashes Caroline McChrystal and Darren Lockwood formed The Blanche Hudson Weekend, whose name too references some cinema… this time Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?

Since 2009, all of The Blanche Hudson Weekend’s recorded output have been three 3-song EPs which will soon be collected on the Reverence, Severance and Spite compilation being put out by Squirrel Records sometime in October. This is perfect Fall music that well… you should be listening to.

You guys remember Surfing With The Alien? Probably not? What was I thinking…who the fuck cares about the Satch? Anyway…

Wavves just dropped their very first video from King of the Beach (an album I love me long time) and not surprisingly it’s for “Post Acid.” This is a pretty cute and light-hearted video featuring the gang chilling with one pretty tubular little alien. I wish I could chill with an alien.

Grass Widow - Past Time (2010) [Kill Rock Stars] // Grade: B

Listening to Grass Widow’s Kill Rock Stars debut (second overall full-length), it’s easy to slide back to the mid-90s Slim Moon heyday, to Free Kitten and the Oregon/Washington embrace, to Jackie O sunglasses and fuzzy two-color copies. The layered-quiet-loud, lack of production sheen; it feels so much of a time, if not a specific genre. But there is a distinction—and the girls of Grass Widow are drawing that line. “We want to thrive in our scene as musicians, with a focus on our musicianship first, not our gender,” they told Stereogum. And as for all the Pacific Northwest, Riot Grrrl references they’re sure to inspire? “We owe a great deal to that lineage, but it’s time for something new.”

Makes sense. The San Franciscans aren’t spitting on their predecessors—and they do sound sorta like Lung Leg feat. St. Etienne—but the comparison’s tenuous anyway. Riot Grrrl, for better or worse, was never about the musicianship. Voice, empowerment and access, yes. Craft, not always. Yet the most visible bands in that circle—even Sleater-Kinney, who focused enough on craft for Time Magazine to name them America’s Best Band in 2001—unwittingly fooled loads of us into assuming that women working within a similar Olympia-energized musicality must be commenting on gender. But if Grass Widow are, as they said, trying to “normalize the role of gender” in their music, they’re certainly not screaming about it; these songs would sound like ‘93 Portland whether girls were singing them or not.

Which is a feat all its own—and also the album’s most well-executed element. Past Time evokes this sense of place without resorting to some retro cartoon, and it does so seemingly beyond the particulars of genre. Amidst the dry and simple guitars, the three-part vocals overlapping in a harmonic and soothing schizophrenia, there’s an passion so evident, it would resonate no matter what. You hear it in the tom tumble of “Uncertain Memory”, the organ hum in “Submarine”, the way melody bends and glides in “Landscape”: it’s the sound of a band stoked on doing something new—the very same sound that made 90s indie/punk/riot grrrl/hardcore/etc so effing exhilarating.

Whether Grass Widow actually succeed on the originality count is questionable—Past Time is familiarly minimal, familiarly raucous, just familiar—but it’s not the newness we crave. Not really; it’s the excitement bubbling through each song’s silences. Look at it this way: if a traditional grass widow is a woman whose husband is alive but away, then our Grass Widow is reveling in a world where predecessors are around, but not. Relevant, sure, but barely a guide. Past Time is about musicianship first because the girls of Grass Widow have willed it to be. And it manages to feel fresh in its familiarity because they’ve willed that too.