“There’s something to be said for toiling away at your craft for a long period of time, sacrificing goats and virgins your time, energy, and the relationships in your life in order to hit that Holy Grail of recognition and notoriety. Regardless of the degree of success, you can’t deny that a bit of respect is to be had for those who refuse to quit.” Then again, a little self-insight never hurt anybody…
“I usually try to pick bands to review based on my prior knowledge of them, partly because I’m risk-averse, but mainly because I’m very lazy and I dislike having to make the effort to look up a band’s information. Unfortunately, this same laziness also means I’m often last to check what’s available for review, so end up with the unknowns spurned by the rest of the AMG workforce. Flummox were one such unknown, but I had a good feeling about the band. Distinguishing themselves from the rest of the metal scene with a quirkiness that extends from their artwork to their lyrics to their range of musical influences, on paper Flummox are a fascinating prospect. Though generally not a fan of jam-bands, especially on record, a sneak preview of “The Ghost of Ronnie Dio” suggested Flummox could combine their influences and personality into well-written, entertaining, proper songs. So how does Selcouth fair as a whole?” Guess.
“The most difficult part of this reviewing game are the albums so pedestrian, so utterly devoid of character that writing about them is nearly impossible. Upon listening to Buried in Violence, a black butt of despondency gathered over me, and my thesaurus quaked with excitement as I reached towards it, opened it, and leafed about in search of any possible way to express the album’s nature other than the one you’re about to read. Alas, Roget could see only so far into the future, and my search was fruitless.” Oh, now that’s a nail-biter!
“While I’m a man who has never invaded a cottage owned by bears, eaten their porridge, and slept in their beds while complaining about everything the entire damn time, I sometimes feel a bit like Goldilocks when commenting on melo-death.” It’s time to bed hop our way through the melo-death genre.
“I have to admit that I picked up Frostbite’s Etching Obscurity for the cheesy band name and the “progressive black metal” tagline. Expecting a pretentious ambient/avant garde black metal album to laugh circles around, I instead found Etching Obscurity well worth my time.” And you know a doctor’s time is very valuable.
“It should go without saying that Deformatory are a brutal death metal band, not because you should already be familiar with them – Malediction is only their second release – but because of their moniker.” Brootal names say so much.
“Brutality came along at the first death knell of a genre that has outlasted just about every musical trend that has come and gone. They released some thrashy death metal demos, one of which (Dimension Demented) I reviewed in the print version of Unchain the Underground back in 1992.” Mr. Kikuras has long running ties to brutal endeavors.
“It was on a tepid spring night that I witnessed, for the first time, the show put on by three mysterious French shamans going by the name of Aluk Todolo. A psychedelic, trance-inducing “krautblack” assault washed over the audience, permeating and shaking each molecule and atom of their beings. An unforgettable experience.” Darkness, beauty and brutality.
“Sure, we weren’t exactly charitable toward the last two Megadeth albums, but who among us hasn’t been rooting for Dave Mustaine to get his shit together and give us another Rust in Peace or at least another Endgame. For my part, I’d pretty much given up on seeing that day, especially after the dumpster fire that was Super Collider. With major line up changes (Kiko Loureiro in for guitar god Chris Broderick and Chris Adler in for Shawn Drover), blood was in the water and it seemed Dystopia might end up an ironic statement on the state of Megadeth’s health.” Time to turn your head and cough, Dave as we offer a double examination of the state of Dystopia.
“Like good whiskey, good old school death metal ages well. Like poor whiskey, the new wave of old school death metal sometimes produces things that purport to be in similar quality to the well-aged stuff, but are just cheap swill in an old looking package. Nobody can try everything, and to attempt it would mean being drunk all the time and only listening to OSDM releases, many of which are probably lacking anyway.” We only keep swill and rotgut at the AMG offices.
