Dat Haiku Tho: Faith No More - Surprise! You're Dead!

0:38 mark.

I would bet money
A hardcore band stole this riff
Mike Patton is mad

Superjoint Ritual - The Introvert

0:21 mark.

As Pantera, one of the biggest metal bands of the 90's started having some internal issues following a cancelled European tour at the end of 2001, Phillip H. Anselmo returned to several of his numerous side projects, Down and a band that he had formed in 1993 with Joe Fazzio, Jimmy Bower and Kevin Bond, Superjoint Ritual. Billed as a hardcore band, which was supposed to take the listener back to the days of early Agnostic Front and Slayer, Use Once and Destroy was released in 2002, although the bulk of the material is culled from the bands 1995 and 1997 demos.

From minute one, SJR developed a reputation for their live shows, but not the kind you might expect from an Anselmo fronted vehicle. The vocalist became notorious for stopping the show because the crowd was not "going off" sufficiently. Either the pit wasn't wild enough or there weren't enough stage divers or crowd surfers or all of the above. Anselmo would stop mid song and proclaim that if that was all you got, they were going to pack it in. In addition to pausing mid song to incite further moshing, he would also call out anyone in the back who happened to have their arms crossed or wasn't into it, calling their heterosexuality into question. It is unknown if Phil's threats were tongue in cheek or serious, but to my knowledge the band never actually left mid set.

SJR toured several times between 2002-2004 including a headlining run with Morbid Angel, Danzig's Blackest of the Black tour and a main stage appearance on Ozzfest, opening for Slayer, Judas Priest and Black Sabbath. After releasing their second record A Lethal Dose of American Hatred, Phil's stage antics seemed more and more drug addled which was even more apparent during interviews. In 2004 during a show at New York's famous CBGB's club, he seemed to altogether forget whole verses in some songs. This was later explained by Phil as a side effect of the large amount of pain medication he was taking prior to having an operation on his spine in 2005.

Regardless of the drugs or antagonistic banter, the music speaks for itself. Hard as nails riffs that slam back and fourth between fast thrash riffs and blast beats to neck-breakingly slow sludge riffs and hardcore stomps that leave a trail of crushed skulls in their path. And no matter what can be said about their live set, the recorded material is an aural assault delivered like a continuous curb stomp from a skinhead parade. Phil's attempt at time warping his audience to the depths of a abandoned squat on New York's lower east side circa 1982 was a bit of a miss however, due to their fan base consisting of mostly Pantera faithful. Perhaps a tour with bands who weren't just a who's who of former Pantera tourmates (Morbid Angel, Dez Fafara etc.) might have sparked interest from a more diverse group of people.

The band recently reconvened sans Hank Williams III (scheduling conflicts) and Joe Fazio, and are forging ahead under the moniker Superjoint, presumably for legal reasons. Given Phil's mostly sober state these days (at least no heroin or painkillers), their upcoming tour dates should snap a bunch of necks and chants of SUPERJOINT SUPERJOINT SUPERJOINT will be heard echoing from clubs all over the northeast. 

Listen to "Use Once and Destroy" on YouTube

Listen to "A Lethal Dose of American Hatred" on YouTube

Soulfly - No Hope = No Fear

2:26 mark.

In 1996, Sepultura were the biggest non American metal band and coming off of back to back gold records, it could be argued that in the current scene, only a few bands were bigger. And then suddenly, tragedy struck as singer Max Cavalera's step son, Dana Wells was killed in a car accident and this began a whirlwind of events, which included the rest of the band proposing that they replace Max's wife, Gloria as the bands manager. Max decided he would rather quit than see this happen, which he felt was a personal betrayal by his band mates and he struck out on his own.

2 years later, he returned with a new group, Soulfly. Named after a Deftones lyric, Soulfly embodied Max's relationship with his step son, with whom he had written "Attitude" from Sepultura's Roots album and who had turned him on to a host of newer bands including Deftones, Will Haven and Snot. These influences as well as the downtuned guitars from Roots come together with further experimentation as world music continued to influence Cavalera's song writing. 

Boasting more guest appearances than a hip hop record, one of the main themes on display was family, or tribes. Max's tribe is out in force with Benji Webbe of Skindred, Fred Durst and DJ Lethal from Limp Bizkit, Chino Moreno from Deftones and Burton, Dino and Christian from Fear Factory and more.

Getting down to the riffs, they are as muddy as the amazon river and fans of Max's previous band are stoked. While one could argue these are basically sped up, thrashier versions of Korn riffs, it's hard to fault the bands success. This brings me to an important point, which is that this is the direction that Max's writing took, which was even further from the sounds present on Beneath The Remains, Arise and Chaos A.D.. For years, fans pleaded for a reunion, refusing to accept that Soulfly was the future. My question is, why would you want to see a reunion or new album? Most fans will admit that Roots is their least favorite Sepultura record, and Sepultura would most likely have continued in that direction, leading to more bitching and complaining from metalheads world wide. Some would say they just want to see the songs played with Max on vocals, because that's how they remember them. Well you are in luck! Soulfly play no less than 5 Sepultura songs at every show, and when time is not a factor (such as one show I witnessed in 2004) they play as many as 8. 

My final thought on this is that you should not live in the past. Enjoy those albums and memories of live shows, instead of steadfastly chanting reunion for 20 years. It probably won't happen and if it does, chances are you may be disappointed.

Listen to "Soulfly" on YouTube

Life of Agony - Underground

Riff mark: 1:54

The band name speaks volumes about these Words and Music. Real hurt, real pain, real life domestic families torn to shreds through addictions, psychoses, and suicide, NY’s LOA transcripts the dysfunction of Generation X and a few years beyond in manners too blunt for grunge and too elite for the impending nu-metal explosion; thus, like its intended audience, fitting in nowhere, save the Brooklyn street corners where the group roots to NYHC alongside stylistic brutes Type O Negative (of which their drummer joins and keyboardist produces this album). River Runs Red is a sad diary, each song a page of isolation and rhetorical questioning in the simplest of prose, accompanied by the thickest and most direct rhythm and percussion. Joey Z and Alan Robert’s respective guitar and bass formulate the compounds of heft, never complicating matters much with notes, sticking to the Drop D with very few half-steps to spare: kicked-down Underground riffs too grimy for Metallica’s Black Album.  Keith (Mina) Caputo implores rather than screams the band’s namesake, championing depression through unique wails that find theatrical opera through a Scott Weiland acoustic. A unique likeliness despite its rudimentary building blocks. RRR seeks an outreached arm for a bloodied wrist, fists clenched and beating temples, hatred for all but for self the most.

Type O Negative (part 6 of 8) - Black Sabbath (From the Satanic Perspective)

Short week with one haiku entry, might as well make it another double-header with my fav group (6 down, 2 to go...)


Riff mark: 5:47 (Killing yourself to livvvvvveeeeeee!!!!)

My appreciation for this band’s generosity grows fonder with this midnight subway train for a greatest hits compilation, alternating familiarity and unchartered stops with the calculation of a seasoned conductor. Globs of new and non-studio cuts coat nearly HALF the wax, their sprawling lengths hogging the 80-minute limit. Well, It’s Never Enough and Stay Out Of My Dreams (my pseudo-optimistic pick of the lot) are the only true unreleased babes, since the Sabbath cover of Sabbath is from a Sabbath comp, 12 Black Rainbows and that Cinnamon Girl remix are from older singles. Roughly seven “hits,” all diced for packaging but still aromatic samplers for the neophytes and nostalgic, though I pray for more level-headed opinions like mine believing Christian Woman and Black No. 1 should forever be left uncut. So, a pretty resourceful venture, the Silver-and-Steele foundation building shrines of gloomy green melancholia with budgeted, but unselfish piecemeal. Oh, and all 12 minutes and 29 fucking seconds of Unsuccessfully Coping With The Natural Beauty Of Infidelity, again.

Type O Negative (part 5 of 8) - Pyretta Blaze

Back in December I reviewed 4 Type O Negative albums in the span of a week, for no good reason other than they're my favorite metal band. I wanted to do the remaining studio releases (and the Least Worst of, which is half a studio in heart) but other albums kept jumping at me, so I've been dragging my heels on it. With tomorrow being the 5-year anniversary of Petrus T. Steele's death...well. Here goes. Anyhoo, I promise to space my adoration for this remarkable group in a less smothering, aggravating bombardment.


Riff mark: 5:32

With the unenviable burden of following two of the most perfect discharges of Herculean prominence too heavy a yoke, Type O Negative succumb to name, pathos, and creative exhaustion yet STILL manage another fantastic album, this linear stretch of music just dreary enough for black umbrellas on sunny days. Everything’s out and prying open the coffin door at this point, Steele bending from departed family, general anxiety, and the ingested toxins under the guise of healing salves, fingers plucking bass strings as afterthoughts playing the deconstruction of his psyche. Or is some percentage of said darkness an act, a practical joke not unlike every album opener or Easter-egg subtlety that makes the gloomy ones gleam with the assurance of a slight wink? World Coming Down is genius in its interconnected contrasts of brutal hopelessness and single-flowered hope, the immediate bottom-ward Silver-lined keys of White Slavery groveling through the frosted lines of its inhaled title (the slowest song about cocaine EVER), then inflating buoyancy into a duo of some-tempo tunes with Everyone I Love is Dead and Who Will Save the Sane?. Well, the string won’t break, despite its manic-depressive urges for aural suicide, the title track being said arc (or piss break, 11 plodding minutes). Altogether it’s a sad, sad cave troll but hey, it’s all in good fun, albeit at the expense of those remaining spirits on board who continue, with a Beatles-like proclivity, to assemble albums of great goddamned music (speaking of which, inevitable Beatles medley here). And it’s all your fault. Sadly underrated by casuals.