(no subject)
So Metal George out of nowhere at around 4 PM calls me while I'm out running an errend. Initialy I think; oh, cool he probably wants to bro down with me at the bar tonight. In my head I think; no, I shouldn't because I told myself earlier I was going to grab a six pack for myself and jam out for a few hours just to see what new things I could do, and what old things I could do but better.
For whatever reason; I did something I never do under any circumstance and that is check my voicemail.
"Hey Nick Nihilist, this is George. Asshole; Carnivore is playing in Conneticut tonight with John Silver's side project. Call me back and let me know if you want to come with me and Pam. Meet me at Jon's house. Bye."
((For those that don't know; Carnivore was the original band of bassist and vocalist Peter Steel, who would go on to find much popularity and success with John Silver in the band Type O Negative. Also...Carnivore sounds nothing like Type O Negative. Imagine comparing a turtle to a rhino. Slow, depressing, and in some cases romantic vs a full speed assault of the rudest, crudest, dirtiest fucking juggernaut in the land.))
So I'm sitting there in awe on my way home up Bishop Marianno Blvd. I replay what he said again in the back of my head, and I tweaked out, shouting my signature "YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!" over and over again.
I make the call to George as soon as I get home, and so I call a cab to take me to Jon's place. Well, cabbie was obviously an Angry Neurotic Catholic so he failed, and I ended up running up with George and Pam. So we're sitting in the car for like 2 hours now, driving southwest bound, and I'm absorbing everything I can from the conversation between George and Pam about the scene, listening for any oppertunites that I might be able to offer myself to...whilst listening to Ministry .
We get there. George and I are looking at all the Yale chics that are coming out, their sweet pretty blonde selves walking along with their pretty boy toy rich fantasy men, and we're grinning just nodding our heads. Ah, Yale.
We get in. I give the guy at the front my ID, we get stamped, we go out back, get ourselves a fucking drink, and we wait for some band to come on stage. Band comes on stage, we move back up front, and we're watching and listening, and honestly this band just sucked. The singer had no stage precense, and when you're a vocalist for a band you're demanded to have that charisma and when you don't have it you fuck your entire band over. That; and they sounded way too much like a combination of At The Gates and Carcass. YEAY! IF I WANTED THAT I'D LISTEN TO BLACK DAHILA MURDER! WOOO! (Who were also playing with Hatebreed, Evergreen Terrace, Throwdown, Zao, and Naplam Death tonight at another venue but honestly if you pass up Carnivore for that show, then you're not my friend.))
So, anyway, this band goes off stage and then I go outside for a smoke and I run into this squatter from the NYC scene. I asked if he was NYDM, and he said no, I nodded, and then he goes on about his stories about living on the streets of New York, squatting in San Francisco, and getting his ass kicked for fucking some dude's girlfriend right in front of him which was believable because his entire nose was crooked and the nasals were filled with dried blood and stiches. Curious; due to my brief adventures to San Francisco and my own experiances, I asked what he thought of the SF scene. Of course he laughed, and replied "There is still a metal scene in San Francisco?" and then he went on this rant about the area and the only things you'll find down there.
I agree. San Francisco scene from my experiance had a bunch of fucking suburban losers that knew nothing about metal or the community, trying to put together a shitty fucking wannabe post-thrash band that they thought was good because they could play Walk, and a bunch of scenecore kids posting up redicilous fliers that almost resembled a gang promotion? This kid lived there for six months, so of course he has a broader idea of what is there and what isn't there, but to give SF credit there is probably still a respectable thrash scene there however small it might be so yay. I gave him two cigarettes then got his name and phone number before leaving him behind to go inside.
Next band came up, and of course as is mandatory out of respect and support no matter how shitty they are I went up front and listened and watched. Another D.I.Y band with no promotion, with songs likely known only by the NYC/CT scene. I liked them, and asked for a demo. YAY! GETCHA-PULL YA PRE BLOWN DUDES!
So then...George and Pam and I go back again, and we get more drinks (Holy shit I spent almost one hundred dollars tonight! YEAY!)and we drink and we talk and some broad comes along and George gets kind of grunty because George is a lot like me. So YEAY! NEXT
John Silver's band comes up and he's like "We are Sevenfold" and I'm like "Wait, what the fuck?" of course immidetly I think of Avenged Sevenfold, and a lot of other nuts did too. And then I look and I go "Oh! YEAH! JOHN LOOKS LIKE CHRIS CORNELL!" and then they start playing what was probably the coolest set during the whole show. I mean, if I knew their songs (which i don't because this is their first tour and their cd at this point is only released on tour because of distribution crap ) i would've fuckin' went nuts because this is the music that goes right up my ally. Sludgey doomy stoner metal. So I marked out with George up front and tried to poundrespect John, but it wasn't happening. Oh well. Asshole security. Amazing set. Ended with a cover of Kill All The White People with Peter Steel coming out and singing along with them.
WOOOO WOOOOOOOH WOOOOAOOOH! WOOOOAH WOOOAH WOOOAH OOOOOOH KILL ALL THE WHITE PEOPLE!
GOOD FUCKING SET! Look up Sevenfold if you get the chance.
Alright; so now Carnivore comes up. Amazing set. Played all the songs I wanted to hear. It was hard to hear Peter over the incredibly insane drummer, roaring crowd, and how loud and distorted his bass was coming through the speaker. Joey Z formerly of Life of Agony pulls me by the arm and we're fucking chanting along to Suck My Dick. Peter through out the show would randomly stop playing music to make fun of the fans and have the fans make fun of him, which is something that Peter Steel is known for doing. Then, he would turn and heckle his bandmates telling Joey Z that he was an ugly spic and asking what band he thought his drummer was in, in an insulting manner. I loved it. Joey Z turns around and says "Peter, you look worse than a crack whore on the corner of 72nd Street." Those who got it (Not me. I'm not from NYC.) laughed and concured with Joey Z, and Peter smiled.
Things like this would happen through out the night. You have to understand that when you walk up to Peter Steel and make fun of him he loves that because he's going to do the same thing to you, and if you take it seriously than you should because at that point you're really as lame as he tells you you are.
So they went off stage, and the lights went out, but he came out 6 minutes later to do an encore playing Male Surpermecy which might I add was done epicly, and then went on to finish with a cover of Black Number 1 which is Type O's most famous song and intertwined it with Carnivore's and at the end two hot scantly clad women in mocking GWAR fashion came out and sprayed the crowd with fake blood that almost tasted...real?
When the show was over, a small group including myself of course went downstairs and waited for admission to the dressing room. We went in, and some kid is heckling Peter in Russian and Peter is laughing his asshole off. So then I sit down and I'm like "what's up Pete?" and he looks at me and says "Hey Faggot." and then he gave me some vodka and I drank up with the guys backstage and talked with them about music, the scene in general, what their plans were, bassicly anything I could put into my upcoming issue of The Gauntlet Promotions, and I fucking loved every second of it.
On the way home; George and I talked along with Pam about things. George having never heard of the story of going to Cliff Burton's plaque, pryed it out and he laughed though felt bad about the ending. I asked for no sympathy and in order to switch topic brought up our ebony desire Estelle. it brought some laughter. We then listened to Thin Lizzy, talked about drugs and cool things to do while on shrooms, and I managed to fall asleep before we reached the Rhode Island boarder.
By the time I got home at 5 o clock, I was no longer tired due to my nap so i did about an hours worth of bandsearching on MySpace which ended with me educating a lost friend of mine about things no one could really expect her to know about, and she probably didn't care to learn about anyway. Yet; despite that I did it anyway for my love and respect for the masters and my malice toward individuals who don't know shit about things they should know about considering circumstances. Gotta' love the posers, eh?
It's nights like this that make me say "You know what, I may not have a job, I may not have a lot of money, I don't have my own insured car, I have a lot of fucking problems I need to sort out and a lot of things that bother me that I just can't seem to resolve, I may be a huge fucking prick at times, I live with my parents, and the only time I don't get laid nearly as much as I used to or would like to, but god fucking damnit...I'm doing something right with myself. I have a passion. I have no problem starting as a nobody that's working his ass off to be a somebody, and I know that if I keep it up I'm going to make it."
That mindset there when I'm amongst all this shit gets me through the day. I'm doing something with my life, not doing something just for the sake of surviving and getting from day 1 to day 2, but achieving a passion...
I smoked too many fucking cigarettes within the last day, even.
For whatever reason; I did something I never do under any circumstance and that is check my voicemail.
"Hey Nick Nihilist, this is George. Asshole; Carnivore is playing in Conneticut tonight with John Silver's side project. Call me back and let me know if you want to come with me and Pam. Meet me at Jon's house. Bye."
((For those that don't know; Carnivore was the original band of bassist and vocalist Peter Steel, who would go on to find much popularity and success with John Silver in the band Type O Negative. Also...Carnivore sounds nothing like Type O Negative. Imagine comparing a turtle to a rhino. Slow, depressing, and in some cases romantic vs a full speed assault of the rudest, crudest, dirtiest fucking juggernaut in the land.))
So I'm sitting there in awe on my way home up Bishop Marianno Blvd. I replay what he said again in the back of my head, and I tweaked out, shouting my signature "YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!" over and over again.
I make the call to George as soon as I get home, and so I call a cab to take me to Jon's place. Well, cabbie was obviously an Angry Neurotic Catholic so he failed, and I ended up running up with George and Pam. So we're sitting in the car for like 2 hours now, driving southwest bound, and I'm absorbing everything I can from the conversation between George and Pam about the scene, listening for any oppertunites that I might be able to offer myself to...whilst listening to Ministry .
We get there. George and I are looking at all the Yale chics that are coming out, their sweet pretty blonde selves walking along with their pretty boy toy rich fantasy men, and we're grinning just nodding our heads. Ah, Yale.
We get in. I give the guy at the front my ID, we get stamped, we go out back, get ourselves a fucking drink, and we wait for some band to come on stage. Band comes on stage, we move back up front, and we're watching and listening, and honestly this band just sucked. The singer had no stage precense, and when you're a vocalist for a band you're demanded to have that charisma and when you don't have it you fuck your entire band over. That; and they sounded way too much like a combination of At The Gates and Carcass. YEAY! IF I WANTED THAT I'D LISTEN TO BLACK DAHILA MURDER! WOOO! (Who were also playing with Hatebreed, Evergreen Terrace, Throwdown, Zao, and Naplam Death tonight at another venue but honestly if you pass up Carnivore for that show, then you're not my friend.))
So, anyway, this band goes off stage and then I go outside for a smoke and I run into this squatter from the NYC scene. I asked if he was NYDM, and he said no, I nodded, and then he goes on about his stories about living on the streets of New York, squatting in San Francisco, and getting his ass kicked for fucking some dude's girlfriend right in front of him which was believable because his entire nose was crooked and the nasals were filled with dried blood and stiches. Curious; due to my brief adventures to San Francisco and my own experiances, I asked what he thought of the SF scene. Of course he laughed, and replied "There is still a metal scene in San Francisco?" and then he went on this rant about the area and the only things you'll find down there.
I agree. San Francisco scene from my experiance had a bunch of fucking suburban losers that knew nothing about metal or the community, trying to put together a shitty fucking wannabe post-thrash band that they thought was good because they could play Walk, and a bunch of scenecore kids posting up redicilous fliers that almost resembled a gang promotion? This kid lived there for six months, so of course he has a broader idea of what is there and what isn't there, but to give SF credit there is probably still a respectable thrash scene there however small it might be so yay. I gave him two cigarettes then got his name and phone number before leaving him behind to go inside.
Next band came up, and of course as is mandatory out of respect and support no matter how shitty they are I went up front and listened and watched. Another D.I.Y band with no promotion, with songs likely known only by the NYC/CT scene. I liked them, and asked for a demo. YAY! GETCHA-PULL YA PRE BLOWN DUDES!
So then...George and Pam and I go back again, and we get more drinks (Holy shit I spent almost one hundred dollars tonight! YEAY!)and we drink and we talk and some broad comes along and George gets kind of grunty because George is a lot like me. So YEAY! NEXT
John Silver's band comes up and he's like "We are Sevenfold" and I'm like "Wait, what the fuck?" of course immidetly I think of Avenged Sevenfold, and a lot of other nuts did too. And then I look and I go "Oh! YEAH! JOHN LOOKS LIKE CHRIS CORNELL!" and then they start playing what was probably the coolest set during the whole show. I mean, if I knew their songs (which i don't because this is their first tour and their cd at this point is only released on tour because of distribution crap ) i would've fuckin' went nuts because this is the music that goes right up my ally. Sludgey doomy stoner metal. So I marked out with George up front and tried to poundrespect John, but it wasn't happening. Oh well. Asshole security. Amazing set. Ended with a cover of Kill All The White People with Peter Steel coming out and singing along with them.
WOOOO WOOOOOOOH WOOOOAOOOH! WOOOOAH WOOOAH WOOOAH OOOOOOH KILL ALL THE WHITE PEOPLE!
GOOD FUCKING SET! Look up Sevenfold if you get the chance.
Alright; so now Carnivore comes up. Amazing set. Played all the songs I wanted to hear. It was hard to hear Peter over the incredibly insane drummer, roaring crowd, and how loud and distorted his bass was coming through the speaker. Joey Z formerly of Life of Agony pulls me by the arm and we're fucking chanting along to Suck My Dick. Peter through out the show would randomly stop playing music to make fun of the fans and have the fans make fun of him, which is something that Peter Steel is known for doing. Then, he would turn and heckle his bandmates telling Joey Z that he was an ugly spic and asking what band he thought his drummer was in, in an insulting manner. I loved it. Joey Z turns around and says "Peter, you look worse than a crack whore on the corner of 72nd Street." Those who got it (Not me. I'm not from NYC.) laughed and concured with Joey Z, and Peter smiled.
Things like this would happen through out the night. You have to understand that when you walk up to Peter Steel and make fun of him he loves that because he's going to do the same thing to you, and if you take it seriously than you should because at that point you're really as lame as he tells you you are.
So they went off stage, and the lights went out, but he came out 6 minutes later to do an encore playing Male Surpermecy which might I add was done epicly, and then went on to finish with a cover of Black Number 1 which is Type O's most famous song and intertwined it with Carnivore's and at the end two hot scantly clad women in mocking GWAR fashion came out and sprayed the crowd with fake blood that almost tasted...real?
When the show was over, a small group including myself of course went downstairs and waited for admission to the dressing room. We went in, and some kid is heckling Peter in Russian and Peter is laughing his asshole off. So then I sit down and I'm like "what's up Pete?" and he looks at me and says "Hey Faggot." and then he gave me some vodka and I drank up with the guys backstage and talked with them about music, the scene in general, what their plans were, bassicly anything I could put into my upcoming issue of The Gauntlet Promotions, and I fucking loved every second of it.
On the way home; George and I talked along with Pam about things. George having never heard of the story of going to Cliff Burton's plaque, pryed it out and he laughed though felt bad about the ending. I asked for no sympathy and in order to switch topic brought up our ebony desire Estelle. it brought some laughter. We then listened to Thin Lizzy, talked about drugs and cool things to do while on shrooms, and I managed to fall asleep before we reached the Rhode Island boarder.
By the time I got home at 5 o clock, I was no longer tired due to my nap so i did about an hours worth of bandsearching on MySpace which ended with me educating a lost friend of mine about things no one could really expect her to know about, and she probably didn't care to learn about anyway. Yet; despite that I did it anyway for my love and respect for the masters and my malice toward individuals who don't know shit about things they should know about considering circumstances. Gotta' love the posers, eh?
It's nights like this that make me say "You know what, I may not have a job, I may not have a lot of money, I don't have my own insured car, I have a lot of fucking problems I need to sort out and a lot of things that bother me that I just can't seem to resolve, I may be a huge fucking prick at times, I live with my parents, and the only time I don't get laid nearly as much as I used to or would like to, but god fucking damnit...I'm doing something right with myself. I have a passion. I have no problem starting as a nobody that's working his ass off to be a somebody, and I know that if I keep it up I'm going to make it."
That mindset there when I'm amongst all this shit gets me through the day. I'm doing something with my life, not doing something just for the sake of surviving and getting from day 1 to day 2, but achieving a passion...
I smoked too many fucking cigarettes within the last day, even.