Nick: I whacked Hold Me…But Not So Tight, the new Gaytheist album, on yesterday and was super stoked.
Jeff: You know, I listen to so much long and dark music that I often forget how great it can feel to be kicked in the dingle berries by a two-minute song and have sparkles and nails come flying out.
N: I love it! Lyrics that make you feel like, “Hey man, that’s a cool thing to say,” and great energy the whole album through. If only I could double track vocals that well.
J: You can double track vocals that well, Nick. You just have to put your mind to it.
N: Thanks, Dad! I’ll summon up all my pimply energy to schmooze out some haggard wails for you. Where’s this band from, exactly? I want to know so I can go shimmy shuffle with them there.
J: Somewhere in the Northwestern US, where the cold and clammy conditions breed beautiful metal.
N: Right, right. The drumming on this thing is a little bit outrageous. You think he’s just trying to keep warm, maybe?
J: His beard keeps him warm enough. Maybe he is part octopus?
N: I wasn’t aware that octopus could grow beards. It’d be killer if they could though.
J: Squid Beard. That would make a great name for a pirate.
N: That’s totally Geoffrey Rush’s character from Pirates of the Caribbean! Squid Beard as FUCK. He pianos with that shit.
J: And writes bawdy literature.
N: Does he? I don’t recall.
J: I am alluding to Quills because I assumed you were alluding to Shine. No?
N: Whhhaaaaaaaaaaa? Jefferson Airplane, what are you telling me?
J: Did you know that Grace Slick named her kid God? That’s so un-Gaytheist.
N: Totally a crappy thing to doom your kid to in high school.
J: Say no to drugs, kids.
N: So, Hold Me…But Not So Tight gets a solid smooching in my books, I don’t care what it thinks.
J: I think it’s telling you what it thinks.
N: I think that stinks. We can work out the kinks…of this relationship…my rhyming scheme has gone wrong.
J: You like to get right up in there, huh?
N: I must.
J: Then what happens?
N: We conclude our embrace with a frosty beer.
J: You get it, man.
N: Do what you gotta do, man. Do you see these goons touring Australia or Canada any time soon?
J: Well they’re coming to Calgary in June to play Sled Island. That’s about an eight hour drive for me, so I won’t be going.
N: That’s POSER TALK! Quit your job, shoot meth into your balls, and have a great time for me!
J: Fine, but just for you.
J: And Gaytheist. But mostly you.
N: I appreciate it. Friends have to shoot their sack full of stimulant or they’re no friend of mine.
Gaytheist’s new album, Hold Me…But Not So Tight, is out now on Good To Die Records. We think you should hold it really tight. But that’s just us. Nick whacked it on. Or maybe he whacked on it. Either way, that’s got to tell you something.
N: Mother. Fucking. POWER TRIP! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
J: Are you okay?
N: No, I blew a foo foo valve. Those are fuck off expensive to replace, man.
J: I replaced mine long ago with inverted crosses. I listen to too much good stuff to always be replacing those expensive valves. The crosses are sturdy, cheap, and pretty.
N: I’m sure those will wear out soon or get infected with something exceptionally purulent. Or at least I hope so. That would give me satisfaction that my seemingly inferior pig foo foo valve replacement is a-okay.
J: No quality pig in Australia?
N: Our pigs will straight up murder yours at any given one-on-one event. They do not give a fuck. They are like oink punks.
J: Pig hockey?
N: Better be field hockey. Pigs are notoriously unstable on ice. Another thing you shouldn’t put on ice IS THIS MOTHERFUCKING ALBUM. SEGUE OF THE YEAR!
J: Speaking of segues…
J: No? Nothing?
N: Nope. Deal with that, maple monkey.
J: Boy, you sure are aggressive.
N: Must be all the horse steroids I’ve been shooting. Not surprised to be honest.
J: You must be itchin’ to go power trippin’.
N: You know I am! I gotta say, Manifest Decimation gets me juiced as fuck. Juiced. As. FUCK. This band takes everything I love about crossover-thrash and drowns it in a completely decadent amount of reverb. This is the sound of some heinous creature from beyond trying to stage dive into our dimension and I love it.
J: Will you catch it?
N: I’ll fuckin’ try. Eldritch mosh beasts from beyond aren’t known for having tangible limbs to hold on to though.
J: You just don’t know what you’re doing, that’s all. Maybe you should spend more time in some pits.
N: Hmmmm, interesting proposition. I’ll move all my stuff into the floorspace of some local thrasher venue and emerge only for bar snacks and circle pits. Would that satisfy you?
J: It might. The idea of you living like a rock n’ roll rat pleases me.
N: I might hold off on that for a while and have a few sets of spare clothes to soil, if that’s all right by you.
J: Figure it out, would ya.
N: Two flannel shirts should get me by for at least a year. Let’s go with that.
J: Not even extra briefs? Ballsy.
N: I wear undies three days in a row on the reg as is. No skin off my gooch.
J: Well, until you get into the pit with one of them Eldritch bastards. They’ll tear a strip off your dick.
N: Dang. I need that. Regardless, I would give that backwards DRI hat wearing bastard an 18 out of 21. Reverb for days and tentacles for weeks.
J: The album or the beast?
J: All right.
When someone says, “Don’t mess with Texas,” they’re really referring to Power Trip. Don’t mess with Power Trip. If you need proof, listen to these two stabs of metal from their new full-length, Manifest Decimation, which will be out on June 11th on Southern Lord.
J: Do you believe in UFOs?
N: I can’t say that I do. I am a huge X-Files fan if that counts for anything?
J: You’re goddamn right it counts for something! I had a crush on Scully.
N: Had? Oh man. Gillian Anderson was, and still is, a total fox. She recently turned up in this show I watch called Hannibal and my heart skipped a lot of beats. Nearly died.
J: IMDB is telling me she’s going to be in something called Curse of the Buxom Strumpet. Holy shit. Although I doubt it’s going to be anything like I think it’s going to be. Or should be.
N: Based on the name alone they definitely have great artistic vision. And so it goes. This new Naam album, Vow, gives me visions something chronic. Do you think it’s the album or something else? I’m only very vaguely concerned you see.
J: Oh, it’s the album all right. What are you seeing, exactly?
N: An ancient warlock. He gives me a flower and from inside the flower comes a white tiger and I ride him through a vortex. Nothing exciting.
J: Or as it’s known around here: Saturday night.
N: You fuckin’ Canucks. You should share that shit around some more, come on!
J: Hey, that’s why bands like Naam do what they do, so everyone can enjoy the warlock/white tiger/vortex hallucinations.
Yep, that’s it. Conversation is over. Were you expecting more? What do you want from us!? Our minds are fried, man. Naam is exceptionally good at doing that. So grab a cup of black coffee and a roll of tin foil, and then open up and listen to the title track from Vow, which will be out on June 4th on Tee Pee.
Listen to “Vow” here.
NICK AT MARYLAND DEATHFEST
Nick flew to America to spend a few days at the Maryland Deathfest ingesting all kinds of extreme metal, terrible beer, and delicious vegan food. No one was certain Nick would make it back alive, but except for one concussion and a head full of crusty hair, he’s none the worse. In fact, he came back even better.
Nick is stoked about MDF.
N: Okay, Jeff, I know you’re probably still mad from hockey but I need to get Deathfest off my chest before I die from stoked.
J: Mad from hockey? That was, like, four weeks ago. Pfft. I’ve moved on to being mad about other things. But go on…
N: Oh, I’m well aware, and also well aware of how much you love to watch armored dudes beat each other up at high speed on ice.
J: Exchange the word ‘armored’ for ‘shirtless’ and ‘ice’ for ‘metal show’ and you have your weekend in a sentence.
N: That’s true! There was a lot of shoulder barging and the security were up on, like, chair towers overseeing the circle pits. I don’t think referees are as likely to be so into it that they dive on to the players though. By which I mean that the security crowd-surfed quite a few times, which was so awesome.
J: Then you haven’t seen a donnybrook from the 70s!
J: That was hockey’s hay day, when toothless bruisers would beat the piss out of each other and then go for beers afterward. So, pretty much like a metal show!
N: That sounds like my jam! I took a lot of knocks stage diving/circle-pitting, but every time there would be some hesher dude with a shit-eating grin right there to help me out.
J: The brotherhood. It’s why metal endures.
N: Exactly. I’ve never had a “SLAAAAYEEEER” moment ’til the Fest, where I had about four. It was cathartic. Speaking of sports/mosh, I concussed myself stage diving during Infest. That was pretty interesting. I’ve never been a sports dude but now I totally get the term punch-drunk. I was pretty silly for a while there.
That’s Nick leaping off the stage into the waiting arms of a concussion.
J: Probably helped enhance the experience. So, who’d ya see?
N: Here’s my favorites in no particular order: Bolt Thrower, Carcass, Weedeater, Sleep, Manilla Road, Infest, Anhedonist, Evoken, Convulse, Loss, Midnight, Repulsion, Tragedy, Weekend Nachos, Vitamin X, Kromosom, Massgrav, and Rotten Sound. I’m going to cop an earful for missing some crucial old school stuff but, hey, hanging out with my dudes and getting food has to happen sometime. My awesome friend Hasan also put on a bunch of side gigs at The Sidebar nearby, which were immense with great bands, especially Wolvhammer, Tragedy, Kromosom, Krieg, Rawradarwar, and Derketa.
J: Where did you sleep? How many showers did you not take? Did you get wasted on shitty American beer?
N: I slept in a good-ass bed at my aforementioned friend’s house, which was great! I had the pleasure of a shower each morning and slammed a bottle of travel conditioner over four days to try and get the crust out (didn’t work). Also, I was, like, kinda drunk a lot of the time, but on one occasion I saw a sign saying ‘beer and a shot — 8 bucks’ and I was all, “Hey, I can’t say no to that deal.” Turns out I really should have. I got a bit punk in drublic. My stomach now requires a litre or so of Yuengling or Natty Bo every day. I think I’ll have to order it in to sustain myself.
J: Nah, you just need all your goodies and trinkets you brought back with you. I’m surprised they let you through customs with so much evil swag.
Nick’s merch haul #1.
Nick’s merch haul #2.
N: Ha ha, right right. I only got frisked/had to take my shoes off….two or three times? Not bad! I got myself a shirt that the band Speedwolf were selling (sucks I missed them though) that says “FUCK CRAB” on it. I am so happy.
J: I dare say you probably got felt up more in the pit. I used to wear shirts with the word fuck on them, but, you know, not anymore.
N: I think it was Friedrich Nietzsche who once said, “Yo, fuck that, dog.” It was kind of odd to see the length of the line for Sleep merch. It was consistently, like, 40-60 people long even though it was all stuff they’ve had on their site for a long time. Weird.
J: Save on shipping, I guess. I mean…that’s the power of Sleep!
N: Oh, absolutely. They were transcendent. I got very high on riffs that day.
J: The noxious doom fumes permeated your very essence, did they?
N: Nothing noxious about it, my friend! It was a totally uplifting. Clean out the soul. I picked up Dopesmoker earlier in the week on double LP for twenty-five bucks too, so I get to re-live that gigantic religious experience whenever I want.
J: I meant it in a good way, like how bad means good. You know, how the kids say.
N: Oh, I gotcha.
J: Ugh, they would never let me into MDF.
N: Ha ha, on what grounds? Being too tubular groady to the max?
J: Certainly not for being gnarly and radical.
N: Do you even skate, Jeff? Jesus Christ.
J: On the ice! And thus the circle is complete.
N: Hi five, my dude. I do love me some repetition.
J: We ouroboros’d the shit outta that!
N: Yeah! I looked at my butt and I was all, “I could eat”?
J: Okay, you’ve cracked. It’s been a long weekend for you. I think you need to go get some sleep, my man. Or some Sleep.
Nick was summoned to MDF by his dear friend Hasan. Hasan is, of course, a wizard, and as true wizards are wont to do, he rose to the occasion in showing Nick gracious hospitality and brutally good times. Any wizard of Nick’s is a wizard to one and all, especially when he’s garbed in a Celtic Frost shirt and showing off some Evoken vinyl.
Posted by Jeff on May 31 2013 in The Ways of the Beard