Having sex, bumping uglies, stocking the stink wallet, dipping the cone, hiding the love sausage, poking the whiskers, making nice-nice, doing the horizontal hokey-pokey, makin’ bacon, humping, copulating, making whoopee, getting laid, riding, shagging, fornicating, screwing, fucking. Whatever you call it, it usually amounts to inserting tab a into slot b.You’re sitting in your afternoon… Continue reading Private places for private parts
Liver damage. Abuse of all kinds. Dead brain cells. Hangovers. Belligerence. Wasted money. Violence. Fatal car accidents. Addiction. Vomiting. And on and on… These are not a few of my favourite things. All of them are potential results of the zealous consumption of alcohol. Decision-making is a process of balancing potential risks against potential rewards.… Continue reading A life more fully lived
The cover, a heart, half-submerged in the deep blue sea but still protruding into the starry night, introduces us to the imagery and poetry of Mare Vitalis Appleseed Cast, who on 1998’s The End of the Ring Wars were lost and confused in sorrow, have aged lifetimes in two years. Their path is clearer and… Continue reading Mare Vitalis — The Appleseed Cast
Planes Mistaken for Stars, the emo-core quartet with one of the coolest band names going return to CD trays with a second all-too-short EP. Knife in the Marathon weighs in at an always-leave-them-wanting-more 18 minutes, but its unrelenting, powerful pace and vigour makes it a worthwhile to the Deep Elm Records library. After a slow,… Continue reading Knife in the Marathon — Planes Mistaken for Stars
Haunting and dark, with the conspicuous abscence of a fluffy single, the Cure’s Bloodflowers, beginning to end, throws itself into lead vocalist/songwriter Robert Smith’s melancholy side. Soft, brooding and gripping melodies lead to inevitable, but restrained emotional bursts then drift back into gentler pop sounds. These lengthy songs prolong the experience at the bottom of… Continue reading Bloodflowers — The Cure
With a barrage of body blows, Henry Rollins’ vocal pugilism returns to the recording studio for the hard rock of Get Some Go Again. More true to his past image of a tattooed, thick-necked, testosterone-oozing, ass-kicker than his motivational speaker and publisher personae, Rollins’ latest effort returns to the thick guitars and punchy yells for… Continue reading Get Some Go Again — Henry Rollins
A million mashed cheese doodles lay strewn on the plush-carpeted floor. Some musclehead is carrying a tank top-clad blonde on his shoulders. She sprays beer around the room while dodging the low-hung light fixture. The band is playing in the corner and this time they sound a lot tighter, a lot louder. You were at… Continue reading Rosie — The Smugglers
Two hutterites and a basketball player wearing a bike helmet walk into a bar… Actually, if you’re a local music fan, you’ve probably heard this one. You’ll know it’s the one about local hard-rock/metal trio Massive Ferguson. Comprised of Pickles (the bass player in the helmet), Harry Hofer on drums and brother Henry Hofer on… Continue reading How Massive is your Ferguson?
If someone told Jewel not to quit her day job, we’d be stuck listening to her sing about her hands (they are not yours, stupid) and hearing stories about how she lived in a van a hundred times each week. That’s still better than watching her act. Jewel, however, is not the only low-point in… Continue reading Ride with the Devil = boring
Somewhere in California, rusty loading carts rattle and screech behind Taylor McLam, guitarist for rap/metal trio Orange mm. With an accent befitting an X-games participant, the amateur skater and rider spews pent-up energy through the phone. "We have to focus every time we play on bringing as much energy as we can," waxes McLam. "We’re… Continue reading Is your metal heavy?