Discontent - Parasite

I figure it's time I start uploading some of the little music projects I work on now and again. I wouldn't say any of it can be considered good song-writing yet, but it's progress toward that ultimate goal. The name I've chose to represent this music is Discontent. It seemed fitting for the style, which is a slow trotting sort of black metal with emotionally charged melodies and lyrics. This short project is called Parasite.

Movie: Monsters

Another film that was originally released well under the radar of pop cinema but caught my attention because of its originality. The story takes place several years after an invasion by an extraterrestrial life form that isn't initially explained beyond its introduction to earth by a recovered space probe. At this point in the invasion, massive tentacled beasts wander a large portion of Northern Mexico with the Mexican and US militaries attempting to keep them contained and eventually wipe them out.

With this sort of premise one might expect an action movie, an "us versus them" summer feature of bloody battles and inspiring speeches, but this wasn't the vision of writer/director Gareth Edwards. He instead chose to focus on just two very modest characters; an aspiring photographer for a notable publication and the daughter of the publication's CEO. Scoot, the photographer, was originally put on assignment to photograph the beasts but is asked to find and escort Whitney, the daughter, to the United States border. We follow Scoot and Whitney through poor villages and deserted cities while they do their best to avoid the aliens which are portrayed as beautiful creatures, capable of immense destruction and violence, but not in an evil way; in an innocent, instinctual way. They are simple animals thrown into a civilized world they could never understand. Instead of being the conflict, like every other film about aliens, they are a symbol. The major conflict is human emotion, it's the romantic tension that builds up between Scoot and Whitney in an environment of confusion and fear.

That said, Monsters might be a snooze-fest for some, but it's a film I enjoyed because it explores human emotion in such a refreshingly different environment and does so rather effectively.

4/5

Feature: Spirituality: A Transitory Condition or Ultimate End

Like many people in my generation, I was raised with religion. Although I can't remember the first encounter with faith, I can remember many Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings reading from the Bible, taking part in arts and crafts, ultimately treating the presented subjects with the same general indifference as early Math and English. Yet it was ingrained into me. There were times in my childhood when I pleaded with God to give me solutions to my problems and sometimes I even thought I received answers by interpreting things around me. I would say "If things are going to be alright, please make the wind blow." And if I felt the tiniest breeze through my hair, on my skin, I would posit that things were going to be just fine. This mentality went on for a time then ended.

The transition to atheism wasn't sudden. It was something I grappled with daily, because it meant no one was around to tell me things were going to be alright. I was alone in life and the idea of death now terrified me. Instead of heaven and the ability to carry out all the things I would never get a chance to on earth, death became a void; it became the moment when the lights go out and existence ceased. I would have brief relapses thinking there needs to be a God because I need to live forever. But this became unreasonable and eventually I stopped thinking about faith as a rational option. It became a fairy-tale no different from Santa Claus.

I can't say whether any of my friends were feeling the same thing around the same time because I didn't talk about my feelings with anyone. The subject didn't come up and I was very shy, a follower of who I interpreted as stronger, more capable classmates. But in my mid-twenties the subject comes up a little more often. Not necessarily because I bring it up, but when meeting new people, it's a "getting to know you" topic. Whether or not a person has faith is very telling of their personality, or at least most people think it is.

This leads me to a conversation I was having the other day with a new friend at a local bar. In fact it's the conversation that provoked this post. She told me that she doesn't believe in organized religion, but maintains that she is a spiritual person. I'm no stranger to this ideology. But it's difficult to define such a belief system because it means something different for every person who believes it.

I would normally dismiss the stance, shamelessly and coldly proclaiming that any amount of faith is ridiculous. But I find myself more open-minded these days, maybe not so open-minded to adopt the spiritual ideology as my own, but open-minded enough to relax my interpretation of spirituality so that I can accept that one can be rational and still believe in something that can't readily be sensed.

But why would one need spirituality? Is being spiritual just a relaxed sense of religion for those too stubborn to dismiss the relentless brainwashing of their childhood, or is it the ultimate ideology that is destined to thrive in a modern society?

My interpretation of spirituality is this: It's important for a person to feel like his or her life has a purpose and that their existence is part of something bigger. But, instead of equating this personal need to anything supernatural it's enough to simply understand that the human race is a species of the earth, and your purpose is simply to contribute to the success of our species. This might seem so obvious but when you take a second to think about it within the context of modern society, the concept of the human race as a species is incredibly foreign.

Most of us get up from our warm beds, go to work, come home, engage in some leisurely activity and go to sleep in an endless cycle of "productivity," but what is the purpose of such an existence? The simple truth is that for many people there is no purpose to their life because capitalism is not compatible with the idea that the human race is a species of animal. In the model of capitalism, the ultimate purpose is not bettering our neighbors, the ultimate purpose is growing individual wealth. This means that the focus in our current economic system is on creating opportunities for people to grow as individuals. These opportunities are in the form of jobs, but jobs aren't created with an explicit purpose of helping society, rather jobs are created to give someone the chance to make money. We go about our daily lives with the goal of "getting by" or making enough money to sustain a successful life, but we have no connection to the rest of our species. We're left to imagine the connection with our brethren and with the earth. And this act of imagining our place in the world can easily be interpreted as spirituality.

This is admittedly a big jump in logic, assuming a connection with the earth and the need to explain that connection, but I don't think it's an entirely unreasonable one. In this explanation the earth is a symbol for the origin of life and we as a species have been obsessed with our origin since we had the good sense to question it. This is, in fact, the most common argument in any theist v. atheist debate. Since we haven't figured out how the first strand of DNA was created, we can't positively reject any explanation for the creation of life. So the theist naturally concludes that a god is responsible. Theists, or in context to my argument, spiritual people, attempt to answer difficult questions with easy answers. In this case, the question is "Do I have a purpose?" and the answer is "Of course I do because I feel a connection to something bigger." But instead of realizing this connection might be to our species and millions of years of evolution by natural selection, they explain the connection in terms of their individual life, their individual success, which was ingrained in them by our selfish society model. And since there is no purpose of an individual life, the average person is forced to make one up in the form of some faith-based ideology.

So is spirituality the best explanation for our purpose in modern society? I think for right now it is, because it gives people the motivation to educate themselves, to educate others and to grow. As long as capitalism reigns as the dominant economic system of modern society, we'll keep interpreting the world in terms of our individual growth and success and require faith to keep us prosperous. But, if in the future we start thinking about progress in terms of the species rather than our individual importance then there will be no need to explain our purpose with spirituality. We'll understand that we are born of the earth to further our species and will return to it in death.

Movie: The Ice Storm

Lately I've been using the Criterion Collection to guide my less than frequent forays into forgotten cinema. Browsing through lists and lists of honored films The Ice Storm seemed worthy of my attention.This is a character driven film depicting two neighboring families and the complex conflicts of marriage and infidelity, of youth and sexual confusion. The film is wonderfully scripted and acted although I can definitely understand why it didn't get much attention in the theaters. The story is dense with conflict, but there are hardly any resolutions. There's not a single moment where the viewer is instilled with hope, with the feeling that everything is going to be OK. Rather all of the conflicts pile up, one on top of another, until the town is blanketed in ice by a passing storm. This might not seem like an important detail for a story about emotional conflict and fragility but the way it's presented and the way each character reacts to it is ultimately nothing short of beautiful story-telling.

5/5

Book: South of the Border, West of the Sun by Haruki Murakami

It's Valentine's Day. Fitting I would finish this book just in time for the infamous holiday. South of the Border is at its heart a love story. It's one of Murakami's more modest offerings but it still carries the emotional weight he's known for and after having read a few books that were heavy on satire and light on emotion, this was refreshing.

The novel follows Hajime, the main character, from his childhood through to adulthood highlighting relationships with various girls. His first experience was with Shimamoto, who he perceived as perfect and it was funny how Murakami described their compatibility. He noted things like how she walked and that they loved the same music. It's funny because the answer I usually give when asked to describe a perfect mate involves the walk and musical taste. Anyway, he's separated from this girl and left with an enormous void which he spends the rest of his life trying to fill. The following relationships were simply a response to feeling lonely, and the want to explore the physical aspects of dating. He never finds anything similar to the love he felt for Shimamoto with anyone else, and even winds up marrying a girl he views as a good friend to have kids and find success in his life.

The conflict is presented when Shimamoto reenters his life by coming into one of the bars Hajime now owns. Even though forty years have passed since he last saw her, the primal attraction he felt when he was younger is even stronger now and it turns his life upside down. Shimamoto is however caught up in something Hajime can never know about and she leaves without warning several times just to come back months or years later.

Shimamoto's mysteriousness introduces elements of the surreal which should be expected when reading Murakami. She never gives a single detail about her life, or if she's in any trouble. All the reader is told is that people are watching her, protecting her, and that she suffers from some affliction that causes her to go into a sort of arrest unless she takes a certain medication. This lack of detail forces the reader to make his own conclusions about what's going on; to interpret little fragments as parts of a puzzle with many pieces missing. Eventually all this ambiguity leads to the climax of the story when Hajime must make the decision to either be with Shimamoto and accept that he'd be throwing his entire life away or never see her again. At first we're led to believe Shimamoto is asking him to leave his wife and family, but this ultimatum may mean Hajime has to sacrifice much more than that.

One of Murakami's shorter, simpler novels, but if you like deep emotional characters grappling with other-worldly conflicts, this is essential reading.

5/5

Book: Women by Charles Bukowski

This is my first Bukowski and it was a harsh introduction. I had no idea what I was getting into but I'm glad I found another writer with such lawlessness, such complete disregard for etiquette and good taste. Bukowski shows no concern for anyone except himself. I can picture him being very similar to his protagonist Henry Chinaski. Henry's only concern was how to make life move quickly and painlessly. He had given up on love, health, culture, spirituality. Anything that most people find profound meaning in was an annoyance for old Hank. He simply wanted to find pleasure in the easy, while doing what came naturally to him, which was writing.

The story finds Chinaski at the peak of his career with women flocking to him, fans of his romantic belligerence. Most of the women didn't mean anything to him and as soon as they spoke out of turn or challenged him he simply walked away without a raised word, without the slightest remorse. The women he did enjoy had grace, beauty and intelligence but were ultimately victims of insecurity. He kept the few in constant torment, informing them of other girls he would fuck and leave. I could say that he had honesty, but in this context that wasn't a quality of his character, it was a complete disregard for human feelings. But, this behavior kept him writing, it kept him alive when his body was abused beyond repair.

I have seething hatred for Chinaski yet I'm constantly drawn to subject matter like this. It's just another example of the senselessness of life, the insanity of it. It's comforting to read about characters like this because it makes me feel like I'm not the only one who's wandering around trying to experience as much of the fringe as possible. I would like to walk to the edge and look over, but in all honesty I don't have the balls to do so. Chinaski did and will die with memories of his exploits without regret because he was sufficiently desensitized by a harsh past and liberal amounts of booz. I hate Chinaski, but I envy his fearlessness. As for Bukowski, I'll keep reading his stuff for short glimpses of clarity, brief moments of the profound, with backdrops of absurdity.

5/5

Book: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson

I'm constantly playing catch up, constantly seeking out books and movies and music I should've experienced before, and I've been thinking about why I interpret my situation this way. It's certainly not for my own personal enjoyment, although I do enjoy most of what I absorb. I think it's simply because I'll have one more artifact of culture to share with someone else. I yearn for someone to ask me what the last book I read was, so I can reply without hesitation, "the 200 page acid trip titled Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." And then I could describe a couple of my favorite scenes and they could describe a couple of theirs. Isn't that the only reason we do any of this?

But I can't remember the last time someone asked me what the last book I read was. So I'll use this place to say that I loved Fear and Loathing. It was a trip, a high speed chase, a hurricane of social commentary filtered through the consciousness of a drug addled paranoid schizo. The story and the dialog moved so quickly I was done with it in two days and now I'm left with images that will no doubt inhabit my subconscious for the rest of my short life. Thompson was a lunatic, a dangerous person, but that didn't stop him from understanding better than most people how insane existence in this country is. How the American Dream is a void when looking at it as a spectator. When in search of it, all you'll find is an obese ex-stripper sitting at a slot machine so drunk she can hardly keep herself upright. But if you choose to live it, the dream can be literally anything you want it to be, from a crazed dope fiend to an uptight family man. And it doesn't really matter which you choose to strive for because both identities will ultimately end the same way.

5/5

Book: The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists

I've been wanting to read this for a few years now, ever since my friend James brought it home our senior year of college and suffered through jokes and ridicule until he completed it. The pickup artist community has always fascinated me in a strange way. I more or less knew what it was about, a group of people who believe that human interaction can be reduced to a series of variables that if manipulated correctly can give an otherwise insecure person the ability to attract women. The fascination obviously came from my own insecurity, an insecurity I think a lot of people share in modern civilization.

We're born into a family, most often by a mother and a father, and we see that as the model of existence from a very young age. Our parents are our role models and if they were able to make a family then we should be able to as well. But, there are no lessons to be learned, no guidance, no strategies that parents can instill upon their children because their union is a result of their life experiences up until their meeting. Their being together doesn't give us any reassurance that we are also capable of beginning a family. They simply show that it's possible and beneficial, but we have our own journey, our own life experiences to learn from in order to get there and there's no guarantee that your better half will ever come along.

This point has been frightening for me ever since I became an atheist. At that moment you realize the only possible avenue of immortality is to pass your genes on to the next generation of man. If you fail to procreate then you die without a trace. Given, if you're a generous person, people will have benefited from your existence, but without children your physical traits will be lost forever.

So I picked up this book and another (Bang by Roosh V) to maybe learn something about human nature; to filter out the shallow bullshit that is inherent in the art of pickup and learn enough so that I might be more prepared to achieve my ultimate purpose.

This particular book isn't a how-to, it's a story about a group of people who founded the business of pickup, people who stream-lined the concept into a product and sold it to men who felt like they needed help meeting women. Neil Strauss, the writer and main character also known as Style did a great job. He taped so many conversations, described so many delicate moments and strategies that he developed and passed on to his students either willfully or not. The only thing I could criticize Strauss for would be his lack of objectivity. There were definitely passages that were unjustly colored, characters that were described in an unflattering light because of his feelings toward them. And although he admitted his own faults now and again, I think Strauss displayed an unattractive sense of elitism throughout which was detrimental to the effort as a whole, but at the same time, made the read more honest and human than if it were written by a more objective observer.

Did I learn anything that will help me with my journey? That question is complicated. As with any complex topic, research only leads to more questions, but there are several key points that the book made quite clear which I will list:

1) Independent of venue, the only way to meet a girl is to talk to her. Even the best pickup artists get rejected 95% of the time, but they meet more women because they talk to more of them.

2) The opener is the hardest part. If you get over the anxiety to begin a conversation then your chances of meeting someone special are going to increase. There are actually many wonderful openers described in this book and Bang that would be effective simply because they serve the purpose of initiating conversation. When no words come to mind there's nothing shameful in having a few openers memorized to get things going.

3) The actual conversation should be natural, you don't have to have entire stories memorized, but if you talk about aspects of your life that even you consider boring then you're going to bore your audience. There's no way around that. So talk about something you're passionate about and if she seems uninterested, walk away and try again with the next one.

4)  Include everyone. If you see a girl you're attracted to and she's with people, it's going to seem creepy to approach her and alienate her friends. Approaching a group is the ultimate skill of pickup because instead of singling one girl out and forcing her to make up her own mind about you, there is a group of people to reinforce the idea that you're a fun person. If her friends like you, she will have all the more reason to like you.

5) Don't feel the need to get hammered to loosen up at a bar or club. Alcohol helps, but your chances will be better if you control yourself and portray the image of someone who can have fun without it.

6) Don't be a prick. It was the intention of almost everyone in this book to sleep with the girl they approached, but if you're reading this and you know me then you'd know that I don't agree with that line of thinking. One night stands are an experience, but a relationship is a fulfilling experience. And as I stated, the ultimate goal is to start a family, so if you find yourself seeking validation by sleeping with women you don't know, take some time to reflect about your own insecurities and find a more sustainable solution.

Maybe obvious points to you, but they weren't obvious to me. And although I'll still have anxiety with the approach for some time, at least I have some stories, some tools, some knowledge of other people's experiences to help me. Let me know if you'd like to borrow either The Game or Bang and I will gladly accommodate.

4/5

Best of 2010

#1 - Deathspell Omega -  Paracletus

You were seeking strength, justice, splendour!
You were seeking love!
Here is the pit, here is your pit! Its name is SILENCE…

These are the final words spoken on Paracletus, the climax of a trilogy composed by a very enigmatic band. They've gotten a lot of attention this past year from the metal community in the form of unwavering devotion but also slanderous hate. People have used words like pretentious, overrated, unsatisfying while describing their work and though I may have lashed out in anger at these opinions at first, I've come to respect that Deathspell Omega just isn't a band that everyone is going to appreciate. What's important for the sake of this list is that I appreciate their work and in my mind Paracletus has raised the bar for what I'm going to expect from bands in the future.

The density of the composition, the unconventional techniques, the hypnotic atmosphere, lyrics that read like ancient text... every part of this album is intricately developed, polished and delivered with unbelievable precision. I didn't have this strong opinion after my first spin of course. It was all too much for me to absorb, but given time, each instrument revealed itself individually. I found myself focusing on the smallest details (like clever rhythms on the high hat) and isolating them to see where they would take me. And after I had explored each instrument, layers of synth work and subtle whispers and screams began to draw my attention. With each listen my initial curiosity and excitement matured into quiet admiration which gives me no choice but to give Paracletus my #1 position.

Best of 2010

#2 - Cephalic Carnage - Misled by Certainty

AHHHHhhhhhhhHHAHHAHHHhhhhhhhhhh, IT'S SOOOOOOOOOO HEEEAAAVVYYYYYYYYY, AAAAHHhhAHHHAHahhahah, I CAN'T STAND THE TENSSSIOOONNNNN. THESE PEOPLE ARE SADISTIIIICCCC. UUHHHHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA, I'MMMMmmm GOING TO HAVE AN ANEURYSMMMM!

Best of 2010

#3 - Agalloch - Marrow of the Spirit

There was a lot of anticipation for this album. I followed the headlines as closely as I could, watching for the track list, the cover art and telling everyone I knew with excited enthusiasm that the new album was approaching quickly and that it was undoubtedly going to be in my top 10. I never had any doubt, which leaves me in an odd position. All I want to do is get people to listen to this so I'll try my best to do that here.

Have you ever gone on a hike into a forest without knowing where the trail would take you? Picture the entrance, the sign post weather-beaten and unclear but you proceed with a sense of adventure. It's winter out with a fresh snow covering the rocky ground like a blanket. You walk along the trail noticing the sound of running water, the icy wind blowing through trees making their branches sway and creak. Things seem so serene and peaceful you lose track of the distance walked and suddenly realize you haven't seen a trail marker in some time, maybe a mile, maybe two. The first attempt is made to regain your bearings, but the path is unclear, what you've been walking on has been your own path, one previously untraveled and this realization sends a shiver of panic through your body.

Confused and trying to deal with the feeling of being lost in a strange place you search for something familiar; the running water, the stream you heard at the entrance to the forest. Approaching the sound a clearing comes into view. Moving at a frantic pace toward the clearing hoping for a sign of civilization, a road, a farm, but what you approach is a lake frozen over and still. It's beautiful and for a moment the silence takes hold of you trudging up memories, regrets, the struggle of existence as you walk onto the ice looking up toward specks of white against the gray. Suddenly the ice gives way and you're reminded that your delicate existence is being questioned right now. You struggle for the edge, for your life which caught in a moment of reflection is soon to be snuffed out, but you manage to escape the icy grip of death.

It may not be possible to find a way out of the forest before nightfall, so you start considering other options. In this moment a faint line of smoke becomes clear against the gray horizon. It may not be a way out, but at least it's a warm place to ask for help, a glimmer of hope in an otherwise hopeless situation. You make your way to a small cabin, a hunting lodge for one. And inside through the window you see a figure but can't believe your own eyes. It is you, rocking in a chair swaddled in a red cotton throw next to a raging fire. Is this a dream or death? Have you drowned?

This is what Marrow of the Spirit feels like to me. Now go and find out what it feels like to you.

Best of 2010

#4 - Enslaved - Axioma Ethica Odini

Enslaved has been around since the beginning, since black metal emerged from the cold dead heart of Norway, and they're one of the few bands from the original scene still making records. While spinning this album countless times over the course of 2010 I've been trying to figure out why they're still here; what makes them resilient when their brethren have fallen into distant memory. To display my theory I'll have to give a bit of background. Black Metal was started as a form of immature teenage rebellion, albeit more extreme than examples of American suburbia. These young gents lit up churches and killed people for spite, but it was still just teenage insecurity. Back then, the music was mostly the same, blasting insanity with horrible production and literally no effort to enter the mainstream. This initial group of musicians gained fans, gained popularity and became something definable, a musical movement; structure when the original intent was anarchy. I think this realization had a powerful effect on a lot of the musicians involved and caused two reactions: personal struggle, insanity and stagnation, in the case of Varg and Fenriz and an evolutionary leap of creativity in the case of Enslaved and Emperor. Unfortunately, Emperor split in 2001 with Ihsahn preferring to compose under other various monikers. Enslaved on the other hand released Monumension in 2001; the album that ended up disillusioning the Enslaved fan base but also paving the way for truly progressive black metal.  

So here we are in 2010 with a band that has been shaping black metal since it began, that has been releasing consistently astounding albums, one after another, for their entire 20 year career. What can I say about the new one? What can I say about Axioma Ethica Odini that hasn't already been said? Probably nothing, but I can tell you with absolute honesty that it is essential listening and that it is a welcome addition to an already unbelievable discography.

Best of 2010

#5 - Withered - Dualitas

My perception of this album has changed quite a bit since the first time I spun it. At first I was blown away by the heaviness. The production is absolutely filthy bringing the guitars and percussion somewhere underground, somewhere damp and devoid of light where monstrous crags shift and quake. The vocalist is trapped down there somewhere suffering and struggling desperately to climb toward the surface. And with that description I'll gladly give Dualitas the title, "Heaviest album of 2010." 

But when I started delving into the lyrical content and the artwork of the album, it shed it's initial brutality in favor of something more intelligent. In the liner notes under the lyrics for every song is an explanation of what each song is about. I've never seen anything like this before and although I generally believe good music to be interpretive and appreciate it when the same music can mean something different to different people, it's certainly refreshing to see exactly what these tracks represent according to the musicians who created them. Boiling the explanations down, this album is about being able to identify the shallow nature of popular culture and distancing oneself from it in order to grow as a spiritual individual. Needless to say I was not expecting this sort of content from the lyrics. I was expecting dark meaningless imagery mixed in with words that sound good when growled, which is what most death metal lyrics are comprised of. What I got was a message these musicians are obviously passionate about; a message that they want their fans to absorb and learn from.

This evolution from bludgeoning brutality to intellectual enlightenment is why Dualitas is worthy of your undivided attention and why it's here in my 2010 list.

Best of 2010

#6 - Kayo Dot - Coyote

Coyote was originally written as a long-form composition by Toby Driver and New York based writer/filmmaker Yuko Sueta who had been recently diagnosed with breast cancer. The composition was to be used as the sound track for a film, but when Sueta became unable to continue the work, Driver decided to adapt it as music for his band Kayo Dot. The motivation behind this work was Sueta's battle with the disease and with her own mortality. Yuko Sueta passed away while the album was in post-production on October 31st 2009. Here are some lyrics from the album which should convey the atmosphere, the honesty and why I picked it for my Best of 2010.

Help me, I'm disappearing
The doors are breathing
Floorboards are bowing
Remind me if I'm not saying anything
There's just so much I can't see
I feel misplaced

Like a moth trapped in the window blinds
After wings came apart into pieces

Who knows who I am anymore?

One day I entered the room of my mind
Shut the thick door behind my bed
Although there was no life

I felt safe here

I decided to draw some pictures in the air
When the darkness drove it up - all my imaginations
They were creeping and you told me

I want to live forever

Best of 2010

#7 - Her Name is Calla - The Quiet Lamb

What a wonderful little album... I feel the same way about post-rock as I do about post-metal as described in my last entry. Post-anything should come from simple beginnings and take you somewhere new and exciting. This album is another stunning example of how creative musicians can be if they forget about genres, acceptable techniques, templates and formulas and write directly from the heart. Her Name is Calla go so far, it's hard to even call this rock. It's got equal amounts of ambient, neo-classical and a dollop of free jazz mixed together to make a beautifully delicate composition.

Delicate is the key word here. There are many moments of near silence with a single instrument sounding quiet notes or a light drum beat establishing a loose rhythm, but the music never loses your attention. I love it when a band can do that. Moments of quiet simple melodies create so much space within a composition. When my ears can barely make out the subtle nuances, my brain makes up for it by picturing the sound off in the distance with obstacles in the way; blowing wind, falling leaves, a snowfall that has the audacity to feel warm. And in between these moments are the conflicts presented by a soaring, passionate lead vocal accompanied by guitars, horns, strings and a trove of percussion instruments. The artists involved showed not only that they can tastefully incorporate a wide selection of instruments, but also a mastery in execution. Be patient with this one and you'll undoubtedly be rewarded.

Best of 2010

#8 - Questioner - Self-Titled

On to the metal. I mentioned these guys before saying they were the light at the end of the tunnel; a tunnel built by my disappointment with 2010 from a musical as well a more personal perspective. In retrospect that opinion held true. Although the year didn't take the dramatic turn I begged for, it did begin to show promise after I discovered this release. And the discovery of this album made me more aware of BandCamp which I personally think is the future of music marketing and distribution.

Anyway, this album is a good example of what I look for in metal these days, which is music that is difficult to define and manages to tell a story in an original way. After hearing that, someone might just say, "Oh, post-metal, what's the big deal?" but they would be missing the point. Although Questioner could be described as post-metal, they bring their own personality, their own influences to the table. I make the distinction because in the ocean of post-metal, bands will take influence from other post-metal bands and mimic them instead of attempting to find their own identity. It is only the post-metal elite who expand upon the idea of metal; they take basic ideas and techniques and draw them out, driving them somewhere new and original. 

I actually wrote a little description of the sound of this album in a previous post, so out of laziness I'll quote it here:
"Questioner flows organically, but not in the sense that it's warm or comforting, in the sense that it's raw, unassuming, maybe a little rough around the edges. In a world where crystal clear production reigns, Questioner is deliberately muddy, but not to any detriment. The slightly mid-range heavy mix gives every nuance a sort of subtlety, a hint of modesty. The percussion is aggressive and seems to be the leading instrument with the guitar following close behind with a touch of reverb. The second spin is revealing minor tonality, but the resolutions are a little confusing. There's a lot hope in this which means they're taunting the listener with a few temporary resolves into the relative major. This approach gives Questioner a really nice emotional balance having sorrowful intervals resolved by big complex rhythm sections. I hear a bit of death metal, a bit of blasting black coming together in a nice posty blend of metal goodness."

Best of 2010

#9 - Crippled Black Pheonix - I, Vigilante

I was born in 1985, so in the grand scheme of things I've seen very little of music history with my own eyes. I've thought of what it would be like to live in the 70's and see how culture responded to Pink Floyd and King Crimson and of course Led Zeppelin, but all I can do is listen to their music, listen to the music they influenced, and speculate. These artists represent something special in my mind, they represent music that was intelligent, emotionally charged, yet accessible enough to appeal to anyone. Very few bands can claim to embody those qualities these days but a few are trying as hard as they possibly can, which leads me to my #9 spot, I, Vigilante by Crippled Black Pheonix.

Previous efforts by CBP have left me unsatisfied, as if they were still trying to figure out who they were or who they wanted to be, but I knew it was just a matter of time before they figured it out. I, Vigilante represents a turning point for the band; the time when they figured out how to let their obvious talent for writing catchy hooks unfold into a few of the most ambitious compositions I've ever had the pleasure of listening to. There are only five tracks on this album plus one hidden track so we're talking length here; length, without an ounce of filler. Each track has such a strong identity I can easily picture them being released as a series of 5 EP's but when combined these songs make for an emotional journey. I, Vigilante reminds us that you can write beautifully intelligent music and still maintain humility, modesty, and patience, that invariably appeals to the human spirit and ultimately reveals itself as timeless in the grand scheme.

Best of 2010

#10 - Island - Self-Titled

Every list needs to be grounded, it needs to begin with a setting, a symbolic grassy pasture in which one can sit down and expand his ideas, build something, go somewhere. Island is the pasture in which I did a lot of thinking this year so it would be an appropriate place to begin. Hailing from Germany, Island is a group of musicians who by themselves embody a small but substantial movement of music. You may or may not be aware of Valborg or Woburn House or Klabautamann but they are all related to the same founding artists, the same creative fountain. Island in particular swells with ideas and influences I can't pin down; rhythmic discoveries, melodic resolution that shouldn't make sense but consistently does.

This record is certainly not a blasting slab of metal, rather a wanderer. The guitars are mostly clean sometimes accompanied by subtle horns, yet the composition has a density that makes it feel complete; as if each idea was developed patiently and brought to its inevitable end. The verses are hinged together with a warm, mostly clean production that has a very smooth organic feel burying the listener in atmosphere and guiding them with welcome narration unique enough to stand out in my memory for some years to come.

Best of 2010

As the years pass it's important for us to remember personal events, accomplishments, experiences so that we may grow as individuals, educate others, and ultimately reflect upon them in order to evaluate our lives and find some comfort in our eventual departure. I have many memories of my past but few that I could identify with a year. 2010 presented an exception. 2010 was the year we lost Peter Steele and Ronnie James Dio, and I don't think I'll ever forget that. The music of these two men greatly influenced my growth as a metalhead and their deaths set the tone for what music I searched for over the past year. Even though much of this influence was subconscious I recognize that 2010 was a year of loss and the music I spent the most time with, the music that I found most attractive, was music that sympathized with me, that comforted me, and ultimately helped me understand that it's important to move on and welcome new bands and musicians with the passing of the old. So this is my list, a selection of 10 albums from 2010 that helped me through a tough year.

Book: Anatomy of Melancholy by Robert Burton

 I bought this book a while ago as another source of lyric ideas without the intention of ever reading the whole thing, so this isn't a review. I just wanted to share a poem within that serves as an introduction:

'Tis my sole plague to be alone,
I am a beast, a monster grown,
I will no light nor company,
I find it now my misery.
The scene is turn'd, my joys are gone;
Fear, discontent, and sorrows come.
  All my griefs to this are jolly,
  Naught so fierce as Melancholy.
I'll not change life with any King,
I ravisht am: can the world bring
More joy than still to laugh and smile,
In pleasant toys time to beguile?
Do not, O do not, trouble me,
So sweet content I feel and see.
  All my joys to this are folly,
  None so divine as Melancholy.
I'll change my state with any wretch,
Thou canst from gaol or dunghill fetch.
My pain's past cure, another Hell,
I may not in this torment dwell,
Now desperate I hate my life,
Lend me a halter or a knife.
  All my griefs to this are jolly.
  Naught so damn'd as Melancholy.

Show: Enslaved and Dimmu Borgir

I almost missed this but thanks to an unlikely coincidence I was reminded to get my ass up to Norther Lights in Clifton Park. The venue was smaller than I was expecting. In the center of the room was a large rectangular bar surrounded by maybe 20 feet of standing floor on each side with the stage in the front. And, get this, the bar served Dogfishhead 60 minute IPA for $6 a solo cup which paired nicely with progressive black metal.

The opening band, Dawn of Ashes was interesting. They played a sort of fun blackened GWARish metal complete with costumes and breakdowns aplenty. They were definitely fun live, but I'm afraid I can't with good conscious recommend them. Here's their myspace in case curiosity strikes:
http://www.myspace.com/dawnofashes

The second opener is considerably more well known, Blood Red Throne. Even though these gents weren't clad in hellish costumes they embodied brutality and evil much more accurately. This band is all about harsh blasting, slightly blackened, death metal. Most of what they did tended to blur together in constant bludgeoning speed, but there were a few memorable solos to be enjoyed, so I was content:
http://www.myspace.com/bloodredthrone666

Enslaved was up next and I was indeed giddy. There's something about seeing a band in person for the first time after watching countless interviews and the infrequent music video, something that makes my time spent admiring music seem worth it. As far as their performance it was exactly what I was expecting, expertly choreographed, expertly executed with a stage presence that was honestly menacing. Grutle Kjellson was especially impressive as the frontman. His vocals although obviously not leveled any higher than normal fought with the already overwhelming guitar tone, which in this sort of music is rare and I can only image how much damage he's dishing out to his poor vocal chords. I certainly appreciate his sacrifice in any event. Here's a taste, but I highly recommend all their albums especially their most recent Axioma Ethica Odini:
http://www.myspace.com/enslaved

Dimmu Borgir has been taking a lot of flack lately, and I can see why. Their focus has shifted over the past few albums toward an orchestral-centric sound, which means they're moving away from guitar-centric much to the fans' chagrin. Live however, a band has an obligation to play the old with the new and it was the old that captured my attention, especially a couple tracks off of Puritanical Euphoric Misanthropia; one of the guiding albums in my metal education. And even though the rest of the material wasn't nearly as memorable, it was still solid fucking metal and the band was tight. There was a lot of focus on the light show and the lead even needed a break for a costume change, which I thought was rather silly, but overall a good end to a good night. Here's some Dimmu:
http://www.myspace.com/dimmuborgir