July 26, 2002

On Wednesday night, while I was lying in bed getting ready to fall asleep, I started thinking about what I am doing with myself – I mean with all of this writing and shit. I have been writing a thousand words a day on a couple of books about growing up with rock and roll since Easter. It does not seem like that long of a time when I am sitting here BLOGGING, but it has seemed like forever since I did not wake up and immediately type the thousand words. A thousand words a day. A thousand words a day. I think about it a lot. I am very proud of my productivity and my hard work. It is how I identify myself to the outside world. A thousand words a day. Every day. No matter what.

On Wednesday night, I am debating with myself whether the book that I am working on is any good or would I be better off working on something else or what am I doing as a writer or am just I being lazy by not wanting to finish anything or what is my wife going to say when I tell her that I am bringing out the second book again and maybe I would like to work on that for awhile (she sees me in my office always typing and typing and typing but nothing ever gets published) or I don’t want to disappoint her or am I just wasting my time with all of this or what is it that I am trying to say or will I be satisfied doing this if nothing ever gets published or why has it been for the last three weeks that I have been writing on autopilot – not really wanting to but just getting it done everyday like a machine.

I don’t want to waste anymore time. It’s been three years since the band broke up, I dropped in and out of law school and started The Assholier than Thou Good Times Happy Friends Monday Morning Radio Show with Thea. Past moving out of town when all of my friends did, I think that I have been doing pretty much what I am supposed to be doing with my life. I work hard on creating. I try to be a good husband. That’s all. I don’t have any real responsibility like kids or money problems to keep me going , so every day I get to make a choice on whether or not I want to keep it going everyday. I don’t have to. I don’t have to go to work. I don’t have to do anything. Every morning I get to make a decision of what I am going to do that day and what I am going to do with the rest of my life – every day. That’s not good. I don’t think that a person is supposed to have that much freedom. I know that people out there in cyberspace who have real responsibility, like kids or something, are going to rise up en masse and kick my ass but all of this freedom is fucking with me. I don’t need to decide what I am going to do with the rest of my life every morning over coffee. I don’t need to do that. I don’t need all of this time for self analysis. Yeah, I know. Boo hoo. I have too much time on my hands. I know am I not going to get a ton of sympathy on this but too much time and too little purpose is what I am dealing with. And it is fucking with me.

So, I woke up yesterday – still not sure with what I am going to do with the writing. Like a machine, I went to the computer - before I could decide if it was any good or did I want to or what was I doing – and got down to business. Except the computer would not let me. I was being held hostage in cyberspace. In cyberspace, no one can hear you screaming.

For whatever reason, my computer was working fine except for Word 2000. That was the one thing that was busted. And since the only thing I use the computer for is writing and BLOGGING, the computer became completely useless to me - useless like teeth on a bone (Is that the right reference, Thea?)

I tried a couple of things to get it going – like turning the computer on and off and hitting it but nothing was working. I spoke with the Webmaster about the problem and he said Virus or Install/Uninstall. I spent several hours last night doing procedures based on both of those things with no results. It is like the computer is broke or something. Eventually, I reset the computer to a couple of days ago when it was working fine and then ran all of the repair Word 2000 and Virus scanning programs, ran and then went to bed. I woke up this morning and it is working fine but you never know with these things. I do not believe in technology.

So, now I am in limbo – with everything… again…all the time. I don’t think I have a choice really with the limbo. It will not go away. Maybe I should try and enjoy it. That is funny. I am going to try to enjoy the fact that I don’t have to do anything. That is really funny.

So, in closing, if I don’t BLOG as often as I used to, it is not because I am lazy or I don’t care or I am Thea (No, I am Chris), it is because my computer is broken. It is because there is trouble brewing in cyberspace. It is because I can’t get the damn thing to work. I am going to use this down time to plan the rest of my life. Now that is really funny.

Today is the three year anniversary of The Assholier than Thou Good Times Happy Friends Monday Morning Radio Show. It was three years ago today when Thea and I went down to the radio station and started talking about how fat we feel. I would like to take this opportunity to give big ups to Thea and thank her for playing along for three years. She is the man now, dog.

A thousand words.

posted by Thea at 7:38 AM

July 24, 2002

I just finished watching the Coen Brothers’ movie “The Man Who Wasn’t There”. It was slow paced, in black and white and had a backdrop of old California bungalows so I loved it. The characters used the words “wop”, “nip” and “jap” so Thea will love it too. I can’t believe that it is only Wednesday. This is another week that will not end (or even get started). I need to come up with a new way to tell people that I am bored with life.


The $50,000 Question: did I rock this summer? I know that all three of my loyal fans are dying to know. The answer: no. I spent the first five weeks of the super short summer taking five classes. I was in school twelve hours a day - four days a week. I had to take so many classes to graduate this December. I am going to be 27 years old that month. I have got to get out of here.

So I was stuck taking Chemistry 101 at 8:00 a.m. Do I need to tell you what a drag that was? It sucked. The other classes I had were also really unfun. I had a break each day from 1:30 p.m. to 5:45 p.m. I studied and worked on class projects then. On occasion I would take a nap. It was like I was at summer camp. CSU keeps the air conditioning on high during the summer quarter, so it felt like I was at summer camp in Antarctica. There were times I would have to keep my hands in my arm pits to keep warm. That too sucked.

I lost one class after the first five weeks. The load was less but I was bored. How much internet porn can one man consume each day? A lot. I still have a cramp in my hand and my eyes hurt. But even smut can get boring after awhile.

School ended and I had three weeks before fall semester. I took a leave of absence from my job this summer so I was really really bored. On top of that, I spent two of those weeks waiting to get married. That's right, Captain Rock is a married man. To all the ladies who wanted a chance to ride on the Good Ship Rock - n - roll and sit on the Captain's lap - I am sorry. I am out of commission. I have to remember to call Kojak and cancel my membership in the Player's Club.

Waiting to get married was like waiting for the priest to take me to the electric chair. Man, did I pray. I rode the walls of my apartment for a week until I pulled a muscle in my leg while jogging. I spent the last week sitting in the Captain's chair watching the clock tick. Chinese water torture. Nobody would call me because they assumed I was too busy with wedding stuff to talk. I gimped around the apartment while taking stock of my life so far. More depression. By the time the big day rolled around I was so miserable, confused and disoriented I thought it was a miracle that anyone would want to sit in the same room with me - let alone marry me. I was completely cracked at the alter and my wife came down the aisle like a savior. It was the happiest moment of my life. The truth.

I did not get to many shows this summer and the release schedule has been light, as usual, in the legitimate rock department. I picked up a few decent hip hop albums and a couple OK hardcore records but that was pretty much it as far as new stuff is concerned.

I started apprenticing on WCSB 89.3 FM this summer too. If you do not know, WCSB is the student run radio station at Cleveland State University. Listen to it. I have been having a ton of fun during my apprenticeship. I have been sitting in on Tom Keeper's "Metal. Metal. Metal." show on Friday nights from 11:00 p.m. to 2:00 a.m. As ascertained through the title of the show, Tom plays much metal and I have been turned on to loads of great stuff under his tutelage. One band that he hipped me to was Sleep. My life has been forever changed thanks to this band. Thank you Tom - a true metal lifer.

All the information that I have gathered concerning Sleep is sketchy at best so bare with me.

Sleep is from San Francisco. They used to be called Asbestos Death and played hardcore. They changed their name to Sleep and starting playing doom metal in the style of Black Sabbath. I am assuming they smoke lots of weed, too, since it (the herb) is a frequent motif on their album covers. They released an album called “Volume 1” (Tupelo/Communion), a 7"ep called “Volume 2” (Off the Disc), and the album “Sleep's Holy Mountain” (Earache) all in 1992. The two albums are both excellent Sabbath inspired doom. Nobody in the rock brotherhood that I know has ever even seen a copy of the 7"ep but I will assume that it is also slow and heavy.

Then Sleep disappeared. They recorded a second album called “Dopesmoker for Earache who never released it and eventually sold it to a major label. I have heard the label was Mercury, London or Polygram. Whatever label it was released the record in promo form but shelved the album before it ever got an actual commercial release. Recently, somebody bootlegged “Dopesmoker” (now renamed "Jerusalem"). I have no label information on this record as it is unauthorized but it has been relatively easy to find at West Side independent record stores.

“Jerusalem/Dopesmoker” is the heaviest record that I have ever heard in my life. Honest to God. I do not think it is humanly possible to ever surpass this level of heavy. “Dopesmoker” is one song that is almost an hour long. It is the only song on the record. It starts with one guitar playing one riff. The riff. The riff that will kill you if you are not careful. After several minutes, the rest of the band kicks in playing the same riff for several more minutes. Slow. Heavy. Thunderous. Eventually somebody sings something about weed and that is it. The rest of the album is variations on the riff with guitar solos and other fun. The record is totally awesome. I nearly exploded the first time I heard it.

The easiest way for me to describe this record is to draw an analogy from film. “Dopesmoker/Jerusalem” is the black monolith from “2001: A Space Odyssey”. It will bring knowledge. It is the key to the universe. It is big and heavy. It will cause monkeys to kill each other with bones. Get this record and you too can know the way.

(1998)

posted by Thea at 9:47 PM

July 23, 2002

This weekend happened almost a month before I got married in the summer of 1998. I can’t believe it has been four years. I was jamming with the Sinner and Mike the Jeep (aka Gork) and generally just rocking out all of the time. That was nice. Thea was at the Red Giant/BPOU gig. I flew solo to Monster Magnet show but hooked up with He Who Can Not be Mentioned on the Show Ever Again who I was just starting to be friends with at the time.

Red Giant
Biblical Proof of UFO’s
Peabody’s Patio
July 18, 1998

I was already on the Shoreway when I realized what I was doing. I was driving to the Flats on a Saturday night during baseball season. Have I gone crazy? I must have been inflicted with the temporary insanity that comes with the inhalation of too many industrial toxins that pollute the air. Or maybe it is the crack? I don’t know which.

The Flats and the west side of downtown were filled to capacity with assholes - probably the same Flats assholes that were doing the bar scene the last time I was in the Flats on a weekend over a decade ago. I have never seen so many Indians windbreakers or other Tribe related clothing in one place outside of Jacobs Field in my life. A+ for team spirit.

It took like seven hours to find a place to park and walk to the Flats from Cleveland State University. I, like Costanza, will never pay to park. Biblical Proof of UFO’s was way into their set by the time I got into the Peabody’s Patio. Although I miss Ron Kretsch, indie rock guru, the remainder of BPOU are more than capable to carry the load and they are still a very good band. The fireball rhythm section of Mike Peffer on drums and Ray Pillar on bass are one of the best in town. Any aspiring singer or guitarist would be doing themselves a favor by getting these two behind him. The rhythmic interplay between the two of them has always, and continues, to hold my interest the most during a BPOU set and is the heart of what they do.

Red Giant commenced setting up the stage and I struggled to get the low down on the status of the missing DuValby Bros. Guitarist Joe Shipman told me that bassist Matt Charboneau quit. That was a kick in the head from which I have not yet recovered. I have been waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat screaming. Get it together, dudes. Please.

In spite of nearly overwhelming odds (depression from a world with the DuValby Bros., poor sound, a full bladder and only a fucking porto-let at my disposal, loser Flats scene, etc.), Red Giant was almost able to transcend a bogus night with their awesome mix of heavy psychedelics and plain old heavy. Red giant is without peer in the Cleveland music scene and should be rocketing (I’m hip) to national stardom any day now. I was blown away (yes) by the band. I was intoxicated by Damien’s stellar (I’m with the program) lead guitar work or it may have been the nauseating stench of garbage and feces that fills the air at the Peabody’s Patio. What an incredible stench. I was dizzy from it and Red Giant almost knocked me into oblivion (Can you dig it?). If you have not checked this band out, I feel sorry for you because you are an idiot.

(1998)

Monster Magnet
Far
Peabody’s Down Under
July 19, 1998

I waited in line outside this show for nearly half an hour. The brass at Peabody’s should figure a way to rope off the sidewalk in front of the bar so they could add another hot spot to the growing entertainment empire (Peabody’s, the Patio, Heaven, the Bathroom, the Line, etc…). I heard the din from the opening band through the wall. They were finished by the time I got inside.

The lead singer from Far was wearing a “Hello Kitty” t-shirt. Oh, brother. Far played emo rock. They had an enthusiastic crowd that knew the words to their songs. I thought that they were good at playing a type of music that makes my stomach sick. I wanted to kill them. At one point the singer was trying to get the crowd involved by asking them to move around more and “let go”. He is lucky that I am not drinking anymore or I would have “let go” a beer bottle en route to his skull. He also commented how different they were from Monster Magnet but it was cool because it was all music. It is this type of hippie shit that ruined the ‘60s. Go play your weak rock for nerds at Oberlin, jerk, not for the rockers of Cleveland. Far made me feel emo; my emotion was anger. Their set ended a while ago and I am still pissed.

Monster Magnet played to a packed house. Does anybody doubt the power of MTV? Monster Magnet had a three guitar attack for some of the night alluding to a possible doom version of Lynyrd Skynyrd. They were good but not quite heavy enough. The drummer was right on type of the beat the entire time. The key to being heavy is playing right behind the beat. Will they ever learn?

Dave Wyndorf, leader/guitarist/singer, is not afraid of stardom. He is a rock star in the truest sense of the word. He pranced around the stage, acted macho and said the word “fuck” a lot. His strong voice held up for the entire hour long set. He is a bit fatter in real life than on TV. That only made me love him more. They ended with “Kick Out the Jams” and I left the hell on earth that is the Flats a little happier than when I got there.

(1998)


posted by Thea at 8:05 PM

July 21, 2002

Again, I did nothing today. I am completely refueled and ready to go again. A day of television in a smoking hot house will do that to you. My wife and I walked up to the Madison Village street fair thing today. It was nice and hot. Now, I am about to go to sleep early - in the heat. I think that I need to force myself to take days like today just so I can reload. I planned the rest of my life today and now I am ready to live it. Yes. Look out.

I think that they thought I was a heavy metal dude at the U.S. Rocker for this second batch of records that they gave me. I did my best with them and maybe got a couple of good jokes off. Thank you. Good night.


KenZiner
Timescape
Leviathan Records

A big ass red flag goes off in my head when I see a long haired dude on the cover a record posing with his Charvel/Ibanez/Jackson guitar. Jarno Keskinew, the Finnish brain child of KenZiner (he played everything on the record except for drums), wants you to know that he is a guitar player when you pick up “Timescape”. I bet he carried his guitar around his high school in a gig bag so that everybody knew that he was a serious musician.

A second red flag hit me in the eye when I read the internet press material on KenZiner. It described the band as “epic symphonic power metal”. Huh? It also said that the record will take me on a “musical and lyrical journey”. That can’t be good.

I was pleasantly surprised by the musical content of “Timescape” The record was not filled with pointless guitar wankery like I had judged by the cover but it does have a ton of guitar solos. The record is a pleasant mix of Iron Maiden styled metal with many psuedo classical flourishes on top of the music. The rocking parts of the record are sometimes unfortunately drowned out by the arpeggioed piano and guitar runs that fill this record. The vocals, handled by Stephen Frederick, formerly of MCA recording artists Billy the Kid, are excellent. He is a real wailer who reminds me of Steve Perry from Journey at times. His lyrics were weak, though. He stops just short of elfin dragon imagery but does use the words: “illusion”, “immortalized”, “shadows”, “banishment”, and “gallantly”. All bad. The drums (great) are played by Dennis Lesh of the legendary Chicago doom metal band Trouble – awesome. The record was produced by David T. Chastain if that means anything to you. It was written on the packaging more times than the band name.

KenZiner does not cover “Stonehenge” but they come close. This record is aesthetically challenged but a lot of fun. I must be retarded because I kind of liked this. File between Armored Saint, Savatage and “Weird Al” Yankovic – musical comedy at its finest.

(www.leviathanrecords.com)

(1998)

Master
Faith is in Season
Pavement Music

Can you say old school? This record is a free trip on the way back machine to the late eighties. Master has succeeded in putting the metal back in death metal and extreme metal. Instead of focusing on speed for speed’s sake or just speed as ultimate effect, “Faith is in Season”, focuses its attention more on rocking – not racing. You can actually tell what the instruments are doing. That is not to say that this record is not fast, it is just not a blur – a refreshing change of pace.

Since 1983, Master leader/vocalist/bassist Paul Speckman, has been flying the underground metal flag with such bands as Abomination, Deathstrike, and Master. Master was offered a record deal with Combat Records in 1985, a telling fact, and have released seven records on Nuclear Blast. “Faith is in Season” would have been very cutting edge on combat in 1985. This record is not too far from the crossover/death thing that was happening then. The production is noticeably better than those eighties masterpieces but still focuses on bitching guitars and muddy sounding drums. Mr. Speckman’s voice is death metal gruff but not overly effected, if at all, and his lyrics are intelligible – not garbled noise.

The lyrical content is topical. Although there are no lyrics about Reaganomics or the “Five Year Plan”, spiritually Master are from the same cosmos with songs about nuclear disaster, Bosnia, the government in general and false prophets like David Koresh and Bo. There are no mentions of any of the numerous variations on a them based on Satan.

Is it new or original to do something old that is not being done anymore? Master is taking the speed of hardcore and the pummel of metal to make a new extreme music. I’ve been through this before. I lived for it the first time. Reminiscing is sweet. A good record.

(Pavement Music, Inc. P.O. Box 50550. Phoenix, AZ 85076)

Am I Blood
Agitation
Nuclear Blast America

I felt a certain amount of “Agitation” while listening to Finland’s Am I Blood’s latest offering. This record is a real snoozer. It goes nowhere. It is a cut and paste of modern metal formula.

Am I Blood owes a bit to Pantera as they are the principle purveyors of the groove metal. Tre modern. This record wreaks of insincerity. Thay are faking being angry. The vocals are delivered through a broken speaker Ministry brand microphone. PU. The songs all stop short of the acceptably heavy marker.

Am I Blood is well versed in metal cliché. They don’t forget the acoustic guitar/spoken word intro. They could teach a class in metal of the nineties. Imagine the worst parts of all lousy heavy metal records you have heard in the past few years and mix them together on one CD. You too can feel “Agitation”.

If the record was faster, heavier or praised the devil, I might have liked it – bit no – just crappy hard rock. A couple of points were awarded for the classic dual guitar melody line guitar solos that are sprinkled on the record reminding me of “Master of Puppets”. Points were deducted for sucking.

(Nuclear Blast America. P.O. Box 43618. Philadelphia, PA 19106)
(1998)

posted by Thea at 9:20 PM