I somehow can't shake off a glum mood that's hovering around me like some sort of toxic fog, obstructing my ability to function normally. Apparently the world is flowing in the background, time ticking, deadlines nearing, and I'm somehow detached from it. It's not about me, even though it is about me. Every now and then I get my ass together for a while or two and get some stuff done, like a computer program or motivation letter for my studies application (how am I to sell myself as awesome and worthy if I'm the last person on Earth to think that of myself?).
It has dawned on me ages ago that the world doesn't have a purpose. There's no meaning of life, there's just a hard-coded instinct where the lone purpose is eating, sleeping and prolonging the existence of humanity. Whoever thinks otherwise is just shitting himself. What makes humanity more special than cats? The fact that intelligence went a step too far and imploded into self-indulgence? Give me a break. If you can't give me a break, at least be a good buddy and live by the rules your fantastic owner gave you.
Most folks enjoy laughing at other folks doped out of their mind. Instead, I'm prone to sinking into fits of inner rage, watching seemingly serious citizens acting like cats on nip, doing idiotic stuff far removed from conventions they have so lovingly embraced with their religion. I don't give half a fuck about how guilty you feel the next morning when the chemicals wear off, nobody made you get so wasted. Still, these folks are religious, and as such are pets to some creator dude up above and live by his rules (as sent to his pets via a messiah of sorts). As they are to live by said rules, they should not be acting like that. I spent a fair chunk of my early years trying to survive as an atheist in an insanely religious country, with a number of my fellow citizens making me feel inferior because Jesus Christ wasn't part of my life. If I'm some sort of Untermensch, at least be the Ubermenschen you make yourself out to be, would ya?
I try to live a good life. It's hard to stomach the fact that my attempts to be a proper member of the community don't mean jack because I don't believe in some hippy messiah and his loony sect from two millennia ago or any other variation on the theme, unlike religious folkses with all their fucktastic actions, doped or not.
I'm starting to understand why so many of my friends are true believers... as true believers, they actually abide by a firm codex of moral norms... not that unlike my own. That's not to say I'm indirectly a religious nut, as that's not the case. My definition of "good" and "bad" converges with their definitions more often than not. Sure, there's some overall world perception differences, such as God's existence or lack thereof, but I'm a pretty "good" person when viewed through their moral codex. Well, at least much closer to "good" than the vast majority of folks around me. Hilarious, but their purity somehow makes this be logical. In some weird, twisted way.
As such, I'd tag myself as a nihilist with rules. I was raised in a household with no religious presence whatsoever, but managed to come out with a pretty acceptable set of gut-based regulations. There's no need to mow down people with machetes, why make anybody's life harder than it already is? The futility of the human condition is enough of a burden. Why not try to hang in here together and make the most of our time here before our biological clocks run out, without getting in anybody's way?
Can't shake this thing off, no matter how hard I try. Been hovering in place for over a week. Listening to some choice R.E.M. nuggets (they had some pretty awesome songs, slightly deeper in their back catalog than Losing My Religion of Everybody Hurts). Waiting for this to go away. Trying to help it with some social interaction... in a curiosal plot twist, I smile a lot and am relaxed and happy. It's not about me, I'm detached from it. Weird-ass sensation, I tell ya.
23.11.11
11.11.11
I am Serious Man. This is Serious Wallet
As I'm off to Holland for a workshop, I figured I'd finally indulge properly in Dutch doom/death. So I did. I downed a whole bunch of bands I wasn't familiar with, listened to their albums, and put together a list of releases that I deemed interesting. While evaluating one of the records, I noticed it was very professional, but workmanlike in its nature, simply offering little actual relevant content. Sure, it all sounded adequate, but there was nothing there. The rhythms were simple, the melodies were predictable, it was pretty much derivative disposable drivel.
And that's when it hit me that about 99% of the entire death scene is, in fact, derivative disposable drivel. Sure, youthful energy, blaa blaa whatever, but the vast majority of this stuff borders on retarded musically. The melodic patterns are so trivial a preschooler with a keyboard could hand out notes for the next tremolo section or huge slamming riff. It's not musicians, it's just kids who learned to move their hands in a somewhat non-disdainful way. I don't really see a point to keep perusing this kind of stuff, just like I never went back to the first Ater demo that made me throw up in my mouth a bit.
Of course, there's the handful of magic acts, which are different and more listenable. But it's a handful.
As such, I am Serious Man now. All those death metal "researchers" were either in the original scene or are aged 25 tops. As Serious Man, I have obtained some assorted works of Arnold Schoenberg, blew the dust off my Bartok CD set, and said hello to the stray bits of jazz on my computer. I intend to go to a serious university in the UK, and I need to be adequately serious for it.
As a token of my metamorphosis, I have purchased a Serious Wallet. Up to now, I carried cash in my pockets and all forms of ID in some scruffy plastic etui. Now I have a wallet made from real leather, and it lets me carry money, cards, ID, whatever the heck I may desire. It even comes with this dubious photo slot that looks black without a photo and black with a photo inside. Urk, bad idea, designers, bad idea.
So yeah, I'm a more serious human being now. Obviously, I'm not throwing who I am out the window, merely fine-tuning the details and realizing that most death metal, which I meticulously collected for months and months, is in fact tripe.
And that's when it hit me that about 99% of the entire death scene is, in fact, derivative disposable drivel. Sure, youthful energy, blaa blaa whatever, but the vast majority of this stuff borders on retarded musically. The melodic patterns are so trivial a preschooler with a keyboard could hand out notes for the next tremolo section or huge slamming riff. It's not musicians, it's just kids who learned to move their hands in a somewhat non-disdainful way. I don't really see a point to keep perusing this kind of stuff, just like I never went back to the first Ater demo that made me throw up in my mouth a bit.
Of course, there's the handful of magic acts, which are different and more listenable. But it's a handful.
As such, I am Serious Man now. All those death metal "researchers" were either in the original scene or are aged 25 tops. As Serious Man, I have obtained some assorted works of Arnold Schoenberg, blew the dust off my Bartok CD set, and said hello to the stray bits of jazz on my computer. I intend to go to a serious university in the UK, and I need to be adequately serious for it.
As a token of my metamorphosis, I have purchased a Serious Wallet. Up to now, I carried cash in my pockets and all forms of ID in some scruffy plastic etui. Now I have a wallet made from real leather, and it lets me carry money, cards, ID, whatever the heck I may desire. It even comes with this dubious photo slot that looks black without a photo and black with a photo inside. Urk, bad idea, designers, bad idea.
So yeah, I'm a more serious human being now. Obviously, I'm not throwing who I am out the window, merely fine-tuning the details and realizing that most death metal, which I meticulously collected for months and months, is in fact tripe.
5.11.11
A Walk
Today was a suprisingly nice day in the mountains. The sun shone in the middle of the surprisingly clear and blue sky, I didn't really need the coat that was crammed on me as I utilized the chance to get out of the house. Why waste all of my day in front of the computer when I can take a walk?
Mom sent sis along. Sis was completely against the idea, and I had to wait a full hour before she finally got her stuff together (with mom's aid) and we left for the north face of the mountain. Snigger all you want, I don't care - the ascent angle, coupled with the fact that the ground was nowhere to be seen from under the dense level of leaves as well as my shoes' lack of traction, made for an interesting experience. For sis, as she laughed herself silly at the sight of me struggling upwards, clasping onto whatever was at hand, including trees, roots and rocks. To make things funnier, the dog evaporated. Fortunately, I managed to convince sis that it's nigh impossible for the dog to spontaneously disintegrate into atoms, and we met up with our canine buddy at the top of the hill. The pooch was quite fortunate, we had to wade through bushes and whatnot whilst he could just dart through small holes in the foliage.
Reaching the top of the hill did not imply the halfway point of our journey, though - we conventionally take the long way down, past the wood processing facility outpost. Our favorite oversized log vanished, probably converted to a batch of textbooks or something similar, but there were still enough of them laying around for sis to burn a good half hour dashing up and down them. I never got how she could do that, I'd probably fall and die within two seconds. After a brief investigation of something perceived as the dog limping (what we were probably dealing with was uneven terrain), we continued our trek.
Some more silly distractions later (a random doggie behind a fence that sis decided to entertain with some sticks to fetch, and then her discovering a blister on her toe), we reached the epic bend... the road makes a pretty big U-shape, but cutting through a shortcut would be somewhat challenging due to the steep slopes and lively stream in between said slopes. Sis decided to go for it. I decided it's far too adventurous for me, and took the long U-way out of the problem. When reaching the appropriate slope, I saw sis... she appeared stuck somewhere and looking a little sheepish. I sighed a huge sigh of "told ya so" and took the road back to help rescue her (she appeared much closer to the original spot from which she took the detour). Upon arrival, I was greeted by her familiar pink sweater... on the other side of the road. Same strip of road, take three. Was fun, at least, and I still have no idea how she pulled it off.
Perusing Queen. Their early records are pretty darn solid prog stuff, where was this all my life? I feel a 70's bender coming up in my blood. About time, too. I'm slowly running out of 90's death subcultures to research.
Mom sent sis along. Sis was completely against the idea, and I had to wait a full hour before she finally got her stuff together (with mom's aid) and we left for the north face of the mountain. Snigger all you want, I don't care - the ascent angle, coupled with the fact that the ground was nowhere to be seen from under the dense level of leaves as well as my shoes' lack of traction, made for an interesting experience. For sis, as she laughed herself silly at the sight of me struggling upwards, clasping onto whatever was at hand, including trees, roots and rocks. To make things funnier, the dog evaporated. Fortunately, I managed to convince sis that it's nigh impossible for the dog to spontaneously disintegrate into atoms, and we met up with our canine buddy at the top of the hill. The pooch was quite fortunate, we had to wade through bushes and whatnot whilst he could just dart through small holes in the foliage.
Reaching the top of the hill did not imply the halfway point of our journey, though - we conventionally take the long way down, past the wood processing facility outpost. Our favorite oversized log vanished, probably converted to a batch of textbooks or something similar, but there were still enough of them laying around for sis to burn a good half hour dashing up and down them. I never got how she could do that, I'd probably fall and die within two seconds. After a brief investigation of something perceived as the dog limping (what we were probably dealing with was uneven terrain), we continued our trek.
Some more silly distractions later (a random doggie behind a fence that sis decided to entertain with some sticks to fetch, and then her discovering a blister on her toe), we reached the epic bend... the road makes a pretty big U-shape, but cutting through a shortcut would be somewhat challenging due to the steep slopes and lively stream in between said slopes. Sis decided to go for it. I decided it's far too adventurous for me, and took the long U-way out of the problem. When reaching the appropriate slope, I saw sis... she appeared stuck somewhere and looking a little sheepish. I sighed a huge sigh of "told ya so" and took the road back to help rescue her (she appeared much closer to the original spot from which she took the detour). Upon arrival, I was greeted by her familiar pink sweater... on the other side of the road. Same strip of road, take three. Was fun, at least, and I still have no idea how she pulled it off.
Perusing Queen. Their early records are pretty darn solid prog stuff, where was this all my life? I feel a 70's bender coming up in my blood. About time, too. I'm slowly running out of 90's death subcultures to research.
3.11.11
Paraxism - The Tale
Current happenings make me want to talk Paraxism in here, so I figured I may as well write up a whole big fat post just on the subject of Paraxism to get that thing out of my system. Here goes nothing.
Once upon a time, I went on a death 'n' roll bender, something virtually unheard of. Usually, death 'n' roll is looked down on as worthless bastard spawn... obviously, I perceive said genre discarding as pretentious elitist gibberish. Thus, when on said bender, I had to check out Xysma, as Xysma are the actual forefathers of death 'n' roll. Forget Entombed, forget Furbowl, these Finnish kids were there way ahead of them. So, an obvious stop is Encyclopaedia Metallum. I go there, and I encounter a list of bands that "followed in Xysma's footsteps".
Hooray! More stuff to check out! Most of it turns out to be pretty formulaic death 'n' roll played by death metal bands that decided to change things up a bit and never recovered, but when it was Paraxism's turn for inspection, the music just... clicked. You know the feeling. My death metal excavation mood will eventually pass, but I will keep listening to a handful of bands, and Paraxism is definitely one of them. Their approach was to draw inspiration from many, often disjointed, sources, and somehow glue it all together and make it work. Their riffs have some of that "good death 'n' roll" swagger that makes all the difference, but there's more than enough uniqueness to not write the guys off as a Xysma clone. Wait, did I forget to mention the moog? I think I did. Yeah, so there's moog. There's also violin in places. But, in spite of all those proggish leanings, the music has balls and attitude. It never drifts off into meandering wankery with no point whatsoever.
Another thing that makes my mindset towards Paraxism what it is - the elusive final demo. In most cases, when I see some scattered release from space on Metallum that I can't get a hold of, I shrug and move on with my life. My feelings for Paraxism were too intense, and I didn't let go. I barked up virtually every tree possible, including some band members (I think I may be guilty of Mr. Paraxism changing his profile so non-friends can't message him, hurr durr derp), and ran into dead links, silent inboxes and fried hard drives. Eventually, with the invaluable aid of The Pro, I have obtained the missing demo. As well as two other tapes the existence of which I was not aware of, and a lone uncharted instrumental track (probably part of the 1996 rehearsal tape I saw in some trader's list... the guy didn't see it fit to respond). So, after a long search and bothering many people (turns out I met some high profile folks on the way, including a member of Agalloch, another of Adramelech... high profile names, yo), I obtained what I perceive to be their complete non-rehearsal-bootleg catalog.
The journey documented within the span is a thing of beauty. They started out as a bunch of kiddos playing death metal. I found some pics on Facebook (not that hard actually, there's a lot of them and all the guys all meticulously tagged in them), one of the guitarists looks like he's barely in his double digits. But the stuff they played... it was pretty ace. Not exactly Demilich tier, but it was melodic and catchy without degenerating into Gothenburger. After a transitionary tape, a distilled line-up and sound was presented in their penultimate 1995 demo. This was their peak... not to say that the stuff that came after was some huge degeneration, it was just different. After a mellower EP that the world is most aware of, they grunged up a bit, adding clean vocals and a more varied keyboard presence. Still, the songs were pretty darn nifty, and I like them a lot. Their swansong tape (one of those which the internet hasn't heard of) sees them write their longest tracks and change up the influence yet again, this time sounding a little like Apotheosis (Ger) on their final album. The best thing is that they could always pull it off - be it their pinnacle style hybrid, their death metal roots, their latter-day keyboard-drenched grunged up work, it all sounded awesome. And folks who are active in major, revered bands agree with me.
One of the folks tried to get Paraxism to release a compilation of their work, ages and ages ago. The band was negatively minded. I wrote a concise albeit elaborate message where I outlined the fact that there's a new generation of potential fans, when folks swallow the hook they go mental, and that they do care enough to actually toss up photos and meticulously tag everybody in them. Thus far, no response. Wrote the long-time drummer, tried adding the "real" Mr. Paraxism to walk around the message restriction... silent. I don't know who to bug, half the Paraxism line-up I located on Facebook only came in towards the end, and I'd feel a little silly asking the singer who only did a tape or two with them when there's a six-year-long heritage to work with.
Another problem to deal with - The Pro's rips are skippy. I don't mind, I can put up with the occasional squeal every now and then, but it's heavily unprofessional to actually release something like that officially. So, there's the option of doctoring out the skips (hard) or getting a better rip, either by having The Pro clean his CD and rip it more cautiously (that would involve The Pro putting in effort) or from another source, like someone within the band. I need to find out who's responsible for handing this thing out in the first place, and tap into that source, bypassing others who may see it as bugging. There's also the need for a bio or something... I could pen that, assuming I'd be given a brief rundown of what, where and when.
Why do I care so much about putting out the compilation? First of all, it could be called Collected Works and it would be awesome. Actually, the real deal is that the music is awesome and deserves to be documented - the guys had quite a trek, covering a considerable chunk of musical ground with quality to boot, and I'm sure that folks out there would appreciate such a release. The band would have a physical bit of testimony; the die-hards would get a bio, pics, and good rips (plus, potentially, tracks they didn't know yet); some of the leech downloaders from the compilation's inevitable entrance to the warez sphere may just catch the bug and write more "reviews" where Paraxism's greatness causes the apocalypse.
Once upon a time, I went on a death 'n' roll bender, something virtually unheard of. Usually, death 'n' roll is looked down on as worthless bastard spawn... obviously, I perceive said genre discarding as pretentious elitist gibberish. Thus, when on said bender, I had to check out Xysma, as Xysma are the actual forefathers of death 'n' roll. Forget Entombed, forget Furbowl, these Finnish kids were there way ahead of them. So, an obvious stop is Encyclopaedia Metallum. I go there, and I encounter a list of bands that "followed in Xysma's footsteps".
Hooray! More stuff to check out! Most of it turns out to be pretty formulaic death 'n' roll played by death metal bands that decided to change things up a bit and never recovered, but when it was Paraxism's turn for inspection, the music just... clicked. You know the feeling. My death metal excavation mood will eventually pass, but I will keep listening to a handful of bands, and Paraxism is definitely one of them. Their approach was to draw inspiration from many, often disjointed, sources, and somehow glue it all together and make it work. Their riffs have some of that "good death 'n' roll" swagger that makes all the difference, but there's more than enough uniqueness to not write the guys off as a Xysma clone. Wait, did I forget to mention the moog? I think I did. Yeah, so there's moog. There's also violin in places. But, in spite of all those proggish leanings, the music has balls and attitude. It never drifts off into meandering wankery with no point whatsoever.
Another thing that makes my mindset towards Paraxism what it is - the elusive final demo. In most cases, when I see some scattered release from space on Metallum that I can't get a hold of, I shrug and move on with my life. My feelings for Paraxism were too intense, and I didn't let go. I barked up virtually every tree possible, including some band members (I think I may be guilty of Mr. Paraxism changing his profile so non-friends can't message him, hurr durr derp), and ran into dead links, silent inboxes and fried hard drives. Eventually, with the invaluable aid of The Pro, I have obtained the missing demo. As well as two other tapes the existence of which I was not aware of, and a lone uncharted instrumental track (probably part of the 1996 rehearsal tape I saw in some trader's list... the guy didn't see it fit to respond). So, after a long search and bothering many people (turns out I met some high profile folks on the way, including a member of Agalloch, another of Adramelech... high profile names, yo), I obtained what I perceive to be their complete non-rehearsal-bootleg catalog.
The journey documented within the span is a thing of beauty. They started out as a bunch of kiddos playing death metal. I found some pics on Facebook (not that hard actually, there's a lot of them and all the guys all meticulously tagged in them), one of the guitarists looks like he's barely in his double digits. But the stuff they played... it was pretty ace. Not exactly Demilich tier, but it was melodic and catchy without degenerating into Gothenburger. After a transitionary tape, a distilled line-up and sound was presented in their penultimate 1995 demo. This was their peak... not to say that the stuff that came after was some huge degeneration, it was just different. After a mellower EP that the world is most aware of, they grunged up a bit, adding clean vocals and a more varied keyboard presence. Still, the songs were pretty darn nifty, and I like them a lot. Their swansong tape (one of those which the internet hasn't heard of) sees them write their longest tracks and change up the influence yet again, this time sounding a little like Apotheosis (Ger) on their final album. The best thing is that they could always pull it off - be it their pinnacle style hybrid, their death metal roots, their latter-day keyboard-drenched grunged up work, it all sounded awesome. And folks who are active in major, revered bands agree with me.
One of the folks tried to get Paraxism to release a compilation of their work, ages and ages ago. The band was negatively minded. I wrote a concise albeit elaborate message where I outlined the fact that there's a new generation of potential fans, when folks swallow the hook they go mental, and that they do care enough to actually toss up photos and meticulously tag everybody in them. Thus far, no response. Wrote the long-time drummer, tried adding the "real" Mr. Paraxism to walk around the message restriction... silent. I don't know who to bug, half the Paraxism line-up I located on Facebook only came in towards the end, and I'd feel a little silly asking the singer who only did a tape or two with them when there's a six-year-long heritage to work with.
Another problem to deal with - The Pro's rips are skippy. I don't mind, I can put up with the occasional squeal every now and then, but it's heavily unprofessional to actually release something like that officially. So, there's the option of doctoring out the skips (hard) or getting a better rip, either by having The Pro clean his CD and rip it more cautiously (that would involve The Pro putting in effort) or from another source, like someone within the band. I need to find out who's responsible for handing this thing out in the first place, and tap into that source, bypassing others who may see it as bugging. There's also the need for a bio or something... I could pen that, assuming I'd be given a brief rundown of what, where and when.
Why do I care so much about putting out the compilation? First of all, it could be called Collected Works and it would be awesome. Actually, the real deal is that the music is awesome and deserves to be documented - the guys had quite a trek, covering a considerable chunk of musical ground with quality to boot, and I'm sure that folks out there would appreciate such a release. The band would have a physical bit of testimony; the die-hards would get a bio, pics, and good rips (plus, potentially, tracks they didn't know yet); some of the leech downloaders from the compilation's inevitable entrance to the warez sphere may just catch the bug and write more "reviews" where Paraxism's greatness causes the apocalypse.
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