Whacker Inc's Reviews and Ughs

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2009-12-21T19:25:00.000-08:00

Wow.

That's probably the one word that I uttered the most during the nearly 3-hours movie.

I can't help but think of the underlying layer of the movie: that an outsider is able to win the hearts of a people within 3 months. It took me nearly a year before I could come to work later than my official time. And I'm lovable!

People over here will just drool over the insanely amazing graphics (it really does make you forget it's just rendered animation and not real people in elastic suits) yet will never ever know its intended message let alone its other messages.

I really like this article because I think it rightly encapsulates my feelings and thoughts about the movie (I wish I could've written a quarter of what she wrote but due to my limited skills in conveying my thoughts into words hindered any input of the flick. Till now.)

Go and watch it, people. The visuals and sounds are worth it. But if you're planning on dissecting the story like how I did, well, you know where to look if you want to have a talk. Over a cup of hot coffee, no less.

Marc Antoine - Hi-Lo Split

2009-07-26T14:45:00.000-07:00

I remember walking down the busy road that is Orchard Road in Singapore and mind was constantly on the lookout for chicks, buildings, sights and sounds and oncoming vehicles. Walking down the road towards my hotel was a short passageway that had trees covering it. I stopped, wiped off the sweat from my forehead and changed to something a little lighter, less pounding on the eardrums. I switched to the ultimate chillout smooth jazz guitar god, Marc Antoine.

The title track of this album is a classic Antoine number; chilled and composed. He even does a duet with himself, acoustic and electric guitar duel! While not exactly Malmsteen in jaw-dropping speed it's still pretty much cool, almost sexy. Sadly, that was the only song I played from the album. You see, the album is good on its own merits, but whence compared to his previous works it falls flat. Very. What's missing is memorability. Apart from the aforementioned, I can't remember anything else. Most of the time it all segues into each other, with the same tempo and temperament. I guess he was trying to get back to his smooth jazz roots after Modern Times, a more experimental album and more straight up jazz.

The problem with this album is that it's safe and rarely steps out of its comfort zone. Antoine is moving with the flow, not once does he veers or goes against it. This is by no means a failure, but rather, a misstep in a journey that was going up and up.

Maybe I expected too much.

Initial Rating: 5/10
Current Rating: 5/10

Order of Ennead - Order of Ennead

2009-07-20T23:01:00.000-07:00

It can't be. It surely can't:

Death metal that's, gasp!, intelligent? Thoughtful? Why, it's impossible!

All right, enough of the false incredulity. Order of Ennead (OoE) is basically the coming together of two disciplines: black and death metal. This is not new. In fact, it's been done to death now (pun intended). But what makes OoE different is that they blend the two brilliantly. Also, the other weird thing is that while musical aspect of the band owes very much to the sensibilities of the aforementioned genres, it's the lyrical aspect that is most strikingly different. Normally, you would hear a lot of "Satan loves me and I'm in love with Satan's daughter!" for black metal or "Let's rip the entrails from old women and feed them with special sauce" if it were death metal but you get none of that nonsense here. Instead, if you have retrospective and, blimey, positivity. Yes, you read that right. Even the titles are more meaningful than your run of the mill metal band: Reflection, An Endless Endeavour, As Long As I Have Myself I Am Not Alone, and Introspection And The Loss Of Denial.

But there's no point in having good lyrics if the music is rubbish, right? Fret not, as this is some of the most well-written, well played and hardest hitting blackened death metal you'll hear. You have Deicide's Steve Asheim who blasts through the songs like his ass was being whipped by a thousand demons and is the main reason why this isn't an outright black metal band with a dash of death metal. No, he brings the death metal and he brings them in spades. He's friggin' fast, especially on the last song, Dismantling An Empire, where he literally is smashing his kit to oblivion. He has also slows things down considerably, most notably during the interlude in Conferring With Demons but I always get the feeling that he's not comfortable playing slow, like he's allergic to it.

Kevin Quirion does his best impression of Ihsahn (formerly of Emperor) and slays on the rhythm guitar. His lyrics are succinct; no verbiage or long passages, he just rasps the words with a lot force. The bass playing of Scott Patrick is fairly competent; no Suffocation-like bass wizardry here. However, the real star of the show is the unknown and rather chubby lead guitarist, John Li. Holy smoke from Jakarta that's causing the haze here in KL can this dude rip them solos! If you're like me and you go absolutely apeshit over neoclassical guitar wankery then you'll shit bricks of joy here. The solos here are on par with the other neoclassic wizard, Ralph Santolla, who coincidentally played guitar on Deicide's fantastic The Stench of Redemption. Top of the top stuff.

If you're a fan of extreme metal but are looking for something a little different, you have to listen to this. At least you can tell your friends there is such a thing as intelligent blackened death metal. It'll make you sound smarter.

Provided you have friends to begin with.

Initial Rating: 8/10
Current Rating: 9/10

Napalm Death - Time Waits for No Slave

2009-07-15T23:45:00.000-07:00

You know, if you kick dog hard it'll either cower in fear or they'll bite you. Napalm Death does neither. Firstly, they'll bust your ass and then make you eat it. Then they'll wallop your body till it's a mushy pulp.

My goodness. Has it been 30 years? They've been around longer than I have but they're still kicking massive amounts of (un)suspecting arses.

The legends are back sounding a bit more pissed. Screw that! They're back and sounding mightily fucking pissed. It seems that even with the departure of the late Jesse Pintado the band is still able to create a brutal wall of sound with just one guitarist. Of note, there seems to be more of Mitch Harris's vocals than before, which, to me has always added that extra bit of forcefulness. In case you're wondering, while vocalist Barney Greenway barks like a giant demonic dog, his high-pitched banshee-like shrieks just rips.

The band is akin to a well-oiled machine; individually solid but downright unbreakable when together. While this may be a case of "if you've heard this before then you've heard this a million times", as the last few albums are rather similar. But I don't know those albums so I'm only going to say what I know about this one. While a more death metal sound has most definitely permeated in recent times the band hasn't forgotten its punk roots. Riffs are fast and in your face. The bass is rarely heard individually but keeps pace with the guitars. Lyrically, it's typical grind fare: fuck politics, fuck the leaders and other fuck this and that.

It has to be said that if you want more speedy and brutal grind, you can look up bands like Gadget, Kill the Client, Mumakil, etc but if you want grind with a strong taste of death metal and meaty as all heck riffs, you have to owe to yourself to get this. No frills extreme metal at its peak.

Initial Rating: 7/10
Current Rating: 7/10

Heaven and Hell - The Devil You Know

2009-07-04T17:46:00.000-07:00

Dear demons and fellow headbangers,

This is the best album of 2009, hands and claws down. Thank you very much.

Hmm, this wouldn't be a Whacker Inc approved blog post without at least a bit of explanation so read on.

Heaven and Hell (shall henceforth be known as H&H) is actually Black Sabbath and Dio. Only guitarist Tony Iommi and bassist Geezer Butler are from the original Black Sabbath band where they are joined by Vinnie Appice on drums and, of course, Dio on vocals. To avoid legal trouble and Ozzy Ozbourne from bitching to high hell, they had to use the H&H moniker. But we all know it's Black Sabbath, sound and all. These "four" lads have gotten together after nearly a 20-year hiatus and this is the result. While the greatest hits of the Dio featured 3 new songs, fans everywhere clamoured for a new studio album. With bated breath, every single metalhead worth his salt waited for this. And the wait is over and by golly does this freaking smoke!

While it's not immediately catchy, after repeated listens it becomes quite apparent that this is a monster of an album. It's a lot slower than expected, which is most the common opinion everyone makes upon first listen. As usual, Dio's sometimes peculiar and downright boggling lyrics can get quite distracting. Take this for example:

Taking till you've got no more to give
Building boxes where you used to live
The word out on the street is no delay
Do it today
Come to the meeting
It's true that we're eating the cannibals

Hmm. It's not something Enid Blyton would write that's for sure. But then again, if we wanted esoteric or soppy lyrics we'd be listening to dribble like Coldplay and its ilk, right? Tony Iommi is just plain marvelous. That guitar tone of his is perfect. Perfect, I tell you and compliments Dio's wails wonderfully. Who could forget Geezer Butler's basslines? Absolutely thunderous and probably one of the better bass performances of the year. Vinnie Appice is dependable on the kit as while he really does nothing special his style and accents flows well with the riffs.

There are only a few things in the world that makes me truly happy, and being a metalhead is one of them. So when there's quality metal such as this you'll probably see me smiling widely and have this rather senile-looking face.

This is Heaven and Hell.

Initial Rating: 9/10
Current Rating: 10/10

Candlemass - Death Magic Doom

2009-06-30T02:01:00.000-07:00

I'm not supposed to like this but I do. I really, really do.

Fuck it. I REALLY LIKE THIS ALBUM!

A little lesson in metal is necessary before I begin. Candlemass is a band from Sweden with a singer from the States. They've a very rich history of playing some of the best doom metal for the past three decades. Frankly, I don't care much for doom metal. This subgenre's name itself makes me yawn uncontrollably. Funnily enough, I got into this band because one of their 'faster' songs (in doom metal faster means not dirge-like), Lucifer Rising, made me sit up. This is some good shit! The best doom metal I've heard thus far was the mighty Black Sabbath who inadvertently gave birth to this genre and even then they're not considered doom metal.

I really don't know why but right after the fifth time spinning this from start to finish it dawned upon me that this is not only a damn good doom metal album, it's also a damn good album! While the lyrics won't exactly uplift you (it's called doom metal, for crying out loud!) but the way it's sung will make you grasp an invisible microphone and start yelling into your palms. What can I say about the riffs other than they'll make you wince in delight and start headbanging rhythmically to its ominous and foreboding sound.

Leif Edling, who's the ringleader of the band, is felt more than heard. Don't get me wrong, he may be a damn good songwriter (wrote all the music and lyrics for this) but as a bassist, well, thankfully I can get my bass noodling fix from one John Myung of Dream Theater. Yankee Robert Lowe, while doesn't possess a deep baritone voice like the previous vocalist, Messiah Marcolin (awesome stage name!), still has the chops to pull off low- and high- register octaves. I can't find no fault with his performance. The only gripe I can think of is that Hammer of Doom and My Funeral Dreams whilst being incredible songs, sound rather alike especially the chorus. But that's just nitpicking. I'm so sorry, I knew I shouldn't have. Gosh, I feel bad now...

Damnit! If doom metal can sound this so fucking good, then I need more!

Initial Rating: 8/10
Current Rating: 9/10

Exmortus - In Hatred's Flame

2009-06-21T06:07:00.000-07:00

I've heard it all. Well, almost. When most people say they listen to everything, that's mostly a lie. Who the hell listens to everything? I bet you that if you played them traditional pan flute music they would be the first to shoot you with a sawed-off shotgun.

But this is not about these people. It's about Exmortus's debut album, In Hatred's Flame. And it fucking smokes.

Before I continue, I've nearly 12 or so years (give or take the odd year or two when I listened to radio dribble) of listening to heavy music, in particular metal. You name it, I've listened to it all; from crazily brutal death metal, stupidly Satanic black metal to the most sorry-sounding doom metal, my ears have been abused and ripped to shreds by loud guitars, pounding drums and some of the silliest vocals one could ever experience. So when I say that Exmortus not only makes me a happy metalhead, they also make me a pained one. But most of all is that I've never heard of anything like this. Maybe I've been an ignoramus but this is some pretty cool shit. You see, these dudes have combined my long-time favourite genre of thrash metal with neoclassical metal. Yes, the kind of metal Yngwie "I'm faster than a goddamn bullet train on steroids" Malmsteen plays with insanely fast precision on a Fender.

Right from the get-go, these four crazy Hispanic Californians (forgive me if I've gotten it wrong) unleash 43 minutes of blistering thrash metal infused with classical pieces unto the general public. It really is something extraordinary when you hear Malmsteen-like solos in a blackened thrash metal sound. The title track opens precedings with a macho riff while the closing song, Fimbulwinter, sends us straight into the abyss with its ominous main one. It must be said that after awhile your ears and probably your sanity will be begging for this to end. The high-pitched squeals whenever the two guitarists rip-up a solo can be quite exhausting. I know I was, and I've listened to so much metal you'd think my ears would be accustomed to such things.

The past few years have seen a resurgence in the thrash metal scene, which, is a good thing considering the overall metal scene is still being swamped with many a pseudo metal band popping up like bad rejects of X Factor. Bands like Exmortus, Lazarus A.D. and Warbringer are paving the way for thrash metal to come back and reign once again like in the 80's.

Minus the mullets, of course.

Initial Rating: 7/10
Current Rating: 7/10

Metallica - Death Magnetic

2009-01-08T04:24:00.000-08:00

Phew! It's been a long time, eh? Without further ado, I'm going to go straight on to the review:

Metallica's ninth studio album, Death Magnetic.

Oright, here's the deal: Death Magnetic (henceforth shall be known as DM) to the tremendously disappointing, nay, downright abomination that is St. Anger. While everyone knows that Load and Reload were basically James Hetfield's foray into blues and country wrapped in a masquerading as Hard Rock, but St.Anger was so way off the mark I thought this was it; the end of it all. The production was really horrible; it was as though Lars Ulrich was really hitting upside down metal trash cans while the guitars were so chuggy that upping the bass on the equaliser would have made my table shake violently. James's singing was truly bad; hoarse and oftentimes completely out of tune. And the less mention of the non-existent solos the better.

Simply put, St.Anger was a career-ending move. All hope was gone.

And now we come to this, last year's "comeback" album. Of course, it's not fair to say that this is a comeback album ala Take That or Gayzone, whoops, Boyzone, because the boys didn't go anywhere. Instead, they embarked on tour after tour, with the newest addition to the band, bassist Robert "Look, Ma! I'm a spider!" Trujillo.

The key thing here is patience. A whole 70 minutes worth of it. The songs are long, some a tad bit too long for its own good, like Cyanide and the meandering instrumental, Suicide & Redemption (I know it ain't no The Call of Ktulu II, but at least do something a bit more interesting instead of playing the same 3 riffs ad nauseam). Also, the production needs to be addressed. I have an okay/not okay relationship with it. On some days, I actually kind of like it. Sometimes the horrible clipping and the loudness (it is friggin' loud) reminds me of fingernails scratching a black board.

Surprisingly, Lars delivers--by his standards--a solid performance. I'm no drummer, but what's with the abandonment of the ride cymbal? Tsk, tsk. And there's double bass! Whoop-dee-doo!

Overall, I have to admit to this: I like the album. A lot. I thought I was going to hate it but the Metallica boys have managed to exceed all my expectations. Of course, there are some things I wish they would improve on; chiefly, the length of the songs. I'd much rather have short songs that are high on energy than have songs that are 6 to 7 minutes long that tend to meander at the middle. Hetfield needs to ditch the country tendencies as well. This ain't no steak-and-grill-kinda band!

Now where did I put that I CD?

Initial Rating: 7/10

Current Rating: 8.5/10

If I wanted vanity, I would’ve just gone to the makeup department

2008-04-07T17:07:00.001-07:00

Ten weeks can be like this, meh?

I kena con liao!*

Yes, my dear readers (a grand total of zero), I was duped. I should’ve known better. The author’s a darn Singaporean, lah!

Okay, okay, settle down. It’s my fault, honestly. I should’ve at least gone through the damn book, from the first page all the way to the last, before purchasing it. But I didn’t, obviously. I just took a cursory glance and that was it, thinking that I got a good deal.

I hate being wrong and poorer-er.

This book shows you how to lose weight and build the perfect body in—yes, you guessed it—10 body torturing, mind screwing, butt hurting weeks. I think. Anyway, the author is a former wushu world champion and as such, is fitter than the trainers in my gym. Combined. Not too mention also that the dude’s vainer (got such word, meh? Spellcheck didn’t show its squiggly red line, so…) than a group of wannabe Chinese girls who think showing non-existent cleavage is a turn-on for us males. It’s existent cleavage that we want to see!

And now back to the review. Ah, yes, probably the most lacking aspect of this book would be the exercises one needs to perform in order to have the body of a Roman warrior with serious shorts. Sure, there are pictorials showing you what and how to do the exercises but the problem is that he doesn’t tell what it’s for. Like, for instance, the bench press. We all know what a bench press is but do we really know its true purpose? He doesn’t provide a breakdown on which exercise works which muscle. It’s a shame, really, since newbies to the world of keeping in shape and wearing tight tights won’t know shit.

This book is half autobiographical and half whatever. At the end of the book, the author goes about telling us why he did that, why he didn’t do that and why fried chicken scares him into unleashing 665 (one more and he’ll have an exorcism) push-ups after consuming a single chicken wing. The language used is straight to the point, no fancy words except the terms used to describe a silly stance. It’s definitely more of a showcase rather than an educational book.

For the casual dude whose idea of working out is to be on the treadmill for 25 minutes and lift 15 pounds, this book and its tips would prove to be immensely difficult—nay, fucking difficult. IMO, this book is for the more advanced gym rat. I’ve been working out for the last 3 months and I still struggle like a cow up a steep slope trying to execute some of the more advanced moves. Must be the tight tights…

I highly recommend getting this book from Kevin Zahri, Fitness 24/7. If you’re Asian and living in food heaven Malaysia (Singapore don’t count, muahaha!), this book is for you. The writing’s a lot better (barring a few grammatical and misspellings here and there), the pictures whilst not as clear with some of them being rather dark are more informative and for almost the same price, it is also a much, much better buy.

Now if you’ll excuse, I’m going to do some push-ups.

* I knea con liao = I got conned, big time!

The Music of 2007

2007-12-29T05:27:00.000-08:00

All right, onto the good stuff first, shall we?

Album of the Year (Metal):

Chimaira – Resurrection
Sigh – Hangman’s Hymn
Odious Mortem – Cryptic Implosion
Dark Tranquillity – Fiction
Dying Fetus – War of Attrition
Aborted – A Methodical Overture

Album Disappointments (some of these are utter bummers):

Machine Head – The Blackening

This is by far the most disappointing album I’ve heard. Ever. This is a stinker of the highest order. I can’t believe how Robb Flynn and co managed to come up with such trite and hopeless songs.

Nile – Ithyphallic

What do you get when you have 4 white guys playing Egyptian-themed brutal death metal? You get Nile. What happens when you put 4 white guys and have them come up with an incredibly feeble and pedestrian follow-up to a rather good album? You get this album.

Dream Theater – Systematic Chaos

Oh, my lordy. This is by no means a bad album, but rather, it’s a terribly disappointing one. It has the makings of a truly special album but Mike Portnoy (I name him the main culprit simply because his influence on the band’s sound and direction is growing tremendously) contrives to come up with some pretty banal stuff.

Naglfar – Harvest

The songs are insipid and lack a certain sense of evil unlike their previous album, Pariah, which had it in abundance. And the horrible production mars this further by making everything sound like the haze in Malaysia.

Susperia – Cut From Stone

My fiends, this is how to not make a follow-up to an incredible album. This album has everything stamped with mediocrity and sterility.

Behemoth – The Apostasy

Nergal once again tries to be more brutal than a pack of chickens running wild in a corn field. This is where brutality for the sake of brutality backfires.

Song of the Year (Metal):

Iced Earth – Framing Armageddon

It’s fast. It’s heavy. It’s catchier than getting a cold in Alaska. This is THE song of 2007.

Chimaira – Resurrection

Coming in a close second, Chimaira at long last unleash a song that shows what they’re truly capable of.

Black Sabbath – The Devil Cried

Four words: Dio, Iommi, Butler, Appice. ‘Nuff said.

Helloween – Kill It

These crazy Germans have done it again. Actually, I don’t know what they did but it seems to be working. Especially on this. Horrendous lyrics, though.

Odious Mortem – The Endless Regression of Mind

Hands down, this has got one of the best death metal solos I’ve heard in a long time.

Dark Tranquillity – Focus Shift

An atypical song from the lads from IKEA land. But it sure as heck rocks!

Sigh – Introitus/Kyrie

Probably the most maniacal-sounding black metal vocals I’ve heard. And to think the dude eats sushi and then sings and…nevermind…

Apocalyptica – I’m Not Jesus

It’s not what you think. Heck, it’s not what you think it isn’t either.

The Arcane Order – Infinite Ghost Anathema

On first listen, you’ll think, hmm, where have I heard this before? The genre has been done to death but these lads have pulled together a top notch death/thrash song with enough élan to wipe a baby’s bottom.

Dominici – A New Hope

The solo at the end is simply magnificent. Highly and criminally underrated.

Other Albums That Really Impressed Me (And I’m the kind of person that doesn’t get impressed easily):

Alter Bridge – Blackbird

o Seriously, this is the best rock album I’ve heard in a long, long time. It has everything; great vocals, great drumming, great riffs, and most importantly: great songs.

Porcupine Tree – Fear of a Blank Planet

o The band with one of the funniest-sounding band names, led by the ingenious Steven Wilson, once again proves they are the best progrock band currently.

Norah Jones – Not Too Late

o Like fine wine, Ms. Jones gets better. But only a little. She still sings way too breathy at times and her country-tinged ditties make me want to break out in line dance.

Michael Bublé – Call Me Irresponsible

Honourable Mentions (Basically these are songs that really impressed me but came out in different years):

Gorgoroth – Wound Upon Wound (2006)

o I used to think that black metal sucks. I still do. But not this band. It’s fast, full of hate and is downright fun! Last count in my iPod was 26 times it played. It took only 3 months. It’s that bloody good.

Estradasphere – Smuggled Mutation (2006)

o A beautifully savage beast of a ditty. It’ll make you smile benignly one minute and the next you’ll headbang wildly. Even if you have no hair.

Dream Theater – To Live Forever (1991 & 1994)

o There are two versions to this song but they’re the same, only the production differs. But they do have one thing in common: they both rule.

Arsis – The Face of My Innocence (2004)

o This song absolutely crushes. It’s not terribly fast but it’ll make your head spin with its tempo changes and jackhammer drumming.

Vanessa Mae - I'm A-doun For Lack O' Johnnie (A Little Scottish Fantasy)

o Heard this way back when it first came out. But it was only this year I decided to ~~download~~ get it. One word: Superb.

And there you have it. 2007 is pretty much the best year for music, personally.

Till the next time, laters!

Soothing Sounds of Music: Part 1

2007-08-30T19:59:00.000-07:00

Some people take it out on a brat with a snotty face and a bad attitude. Some people use their cars as weapons of terror to bully other drivers. Others take up gardening, saying that pulling out weeds and seeing their flowers bloom right before their eyes sends them to their happy place. Painting has that same effect but for the life of me, I don’t get artists and their paintings where a stroke here means their consciousness discovered tranquillity while a flick there means their brains were about to explode and splatter all over the canvas to create a masterpiece but wait! There it is—a stroke of genius!

To alleviate stress, nothing sets my heart to beat at a normal rate faster than music (see the pun?). So I present to you “Chris’s Top 10 Songs That Make Chris Go to His Happy Place (where he extirpates the entire bunny race)”. In no particular order:

Dream Theater – Hell’s Kitchen

How could an instrumental that’s a little over 4 minutes beat Dream Theater’s other longer, decidedly more epic songs? Simple. This song encapsulates every single known good feeling during the course of its run. By the end of it you feel as though your spirit has been lifted to a whole new consciousness. Perfect for night drives when you just want to cruise.

Joe Satriani – Up in Flames (G3 Live in Tokyo version)

I had to choose between John Petrucci’s Glasgow Kiss and Steve Vai’s The Audience is Listening. While each song is totally different in tone and texture, all 3 are epics that send me dreaming about the good things in life. But Mr. Satriani gets the honour because not only did he make a great song superior in every way, he does it with sublime prowess.

Liquid Tension Experiment – Kindred Spirits

When you have 4 extremely gifted and bloody awesome musicians, you know that whatever they come up with is going to be magic. And magic they performed. They recorded their albums in a span of one week each and those sessions produced opuses of wonderful madness and intense creativity. This song has everything; killer melodies, awesome basslines, pounding drums and a powerful end. Seeing the likes of these 4 may not happen again. Truly magical.

Marc Antoine – Unity

I have to really thank my good friend Irwin for introducing me to this guy. When I was heavily into all things brutal, the thought of listening to Spanish-influenced acoustic guitar songs would have me reaching for a cleaver. I have all of his albums now. This was the first song of his I ever listened fully to and is still my no.1 favourite from this genius.

Michael Bublé – Home

BUBBLE? AHAHAH! All right, I’ll admit it. I too was guilty of maligning this poor Canadian’s name. But when I heard Elliot Yamin’s rendition in the last American Idol, I thought maybe I’ll give him a try. I bought the DVD + CD live album and when I got home, I played Home straightaway. I felt at peace and it made me appreciate my time with my loved ones even more. Please pass the tissue. I feel a tear coming…

Norah Jones – The Long Day is Over

Not since I inhaled copious amounts of smoke due to the haze, has there been anyone with a smoky and sweet voice made me happier. I find that if I listen to this whilst reading a good book, with the rain gently pouring and if I’m lucky, at night, I reach a place where all the bad doesn’t exist. Thank you Mr. Ravi Shanker.

Porcupine Tree – Arriving Somewhere But Not Here

I first heard of this band from one of the metal forums that I go to. I downloaded it without knowing a single thing about them other than the fact they’re quite known in the progressive rock fraternity. The MP3s were superb and after a while I just had to get the CD. The minute I played it, I was floored. The breakdown at about 6:57 remains one of the most headbangable moments of all time.

Rainbow – Stargazer

What do you get when you have a frontman the size of my grandma, a mad genius with 6 strings and an amp, together with a rhythm section tighter than a tight pair of Levi’s? Why, you get Rainbow! Yet another criminally underrated hard rock band of the 70’s, the Dio era saw 3 albums bearing songs that are hits and classics in their own right. But none are as sweeping or as staggering as Stargazer. It speaks of a journey like no other and when Dio sings, you listen. The pathos of Ritchie Blackmore provides the song with a grand atmosphere.

Whitesnake – Sailing Ships

David Coverdale may have been a podgy, pimply boy when he was indoctrinated into the ranks of Deep Purple, but when he left, left as a man wanting to front his own band in his own image. He always knew he was more of a blues singer but with Whitesnake he combined his roots with hard rock in a band that while is highly regarded, didn’t exactly achieve the success neither the legendary status of his former band. But screw that, Coverdale and co gave us the truly epic ballad, Sailing Ships. If I had a genie granting only one wish, I’d wish I could sing like him.

Wintersun – Battle Against Time

Deep in the forests of Tyr, beyond the fringes of the icy realms of Finland, comes this band from frontman extraordinaire Jaane Nokia with a sound that is described best as melodic brutal folk metal. It is sweepingly epic and it literally reminds me of a time when King Arthur and his knights roamed early Britain, smiting eeevell wherever eeevell dwells. Armour not included.

So there you have it. This list is definitely not definitive as I keep changing them every single day. And that to me is the beauty and power of music. You really never know what you listen next might be your new favourite. Thank you for reading. Now go and get ‘em, cos Chris Said So!

Special mentions go to:

Fear Factory – Resurrection (The ending has that triumphant feel I so love)

Borknagar – Colossus (Amazing vocals and fantastic melodies)

Apocalyptica – Epilogue (Relief) (they headbang while playing cellos!)

Mercenary – Firesoul (Danish pastries + soaring vocals = Brilliance)

Live – Lightning Crashes (A beautiful crescendo with evocative vocals)

Kamelot – Serenade (Cheesy band name aside, this song is remarkably exquisite)

Deep Purple – Soldier of Fortune (Beautiful)

Tool – The Grudge (the build up at around 6:00 is simply amazing)

Boston – More Than a Feeling (Seriously, not even Celine Dion could pull notes that long)

Rammstein – Mein Herz Brentt (Teutonic goodness!)

Arch Enemy – Black Earth

2007-07-13T08:46:00.000-07:00

Forget everything you know about melodies, catchier-than-a-pack-of-hyenas-laughing choruses and half-baked solos. This, my friends, is the real Arch Enemy.

Newer listeners, especially to the band’s more recent (craptastic) output, may think to themselves, why on earth is this fellow saying that this is the real thing? I’ll tell you why. Because I said so, mah! All right. That was lame and cheap but it was kind of funny, aye? Anyhow, if you had gotten into the band as early as I did, then you’ll probably understand where I’m coming from.

The two guitarists, brothers Michael and Christopher Amott, were fast gaining recognition and plaudits as the twin guitar wizards to look out for. And rightly so. While Michael was previously in the legendary Carcass, his brother made his debut here. But you wouldn’t have known that. Together, they tear through 9 tracks of blistering, melodic as heck metal. Or to put it shortly, melodic death metal, which funnily enough isn’t really death metal at all. But let’s not get into that, for the debate shall rage on and on and I would’ve run out of tea by then.

The thing about this album is that it’s heavier than heck; with its guitar tone that sounds as though it was made from Thor’s hammer while the drums pound your ears into submission. But the one aspect of the band that got the most flak about was the vocals, No vocals that sound as though a woman was doing it. The vocals here sound like a dog’s bark. A rather large, black, vicious-looking dog. Personally, the dude sounded like a bear. One very big, very pissed and very vicious-looking bear. To many, his “singing” was monotonous and dull. What they did expect? Friggin’ Bruce Dickinson? This is how it’s supposed to sound, not some woman who sounds like an evil 12-year-old.

Bury Me An Angel is by far one of the most crushing openers ever. Mind you, this is 1996 but the production on this puts latter efforts to shame. I’ve already mentioned that the guitars are heavier than heck and the aforementioned proves me right. If you think shouting “I love you” in a metal song is weird, try listening to Eureka. One thing I love about the album is the solos. They are distinct and fitting to each song. Cosmic Retribution even has a Spanish-influenced interlude that throws you off for a moment but when the carnage resumes, you remember why your head feels heavy. Transmigration Macabre is a fun song; heavy and brutal and underneath the rhythm is a pounding, almost old-skool death metal sound to it. Closing song, Fields of Desolation, is by far their best song to date. It’s huge. It’s dark. It’s grand. The main riff alone makes their more recent efforts sound like goddamn Linkin Park. I’m a sucker for a great metal song with great drumming and a great ending solo. This has it all but turned all the way to 11. It’s too bad that the solo had to fade away towards the end. I would’ve been happier than a pack of hungry wolves chomping on a moose.

This is one of those rate albums that when you press Play, you can leave it and listen to all the songs without skipping. Of course, it’s also pretty short. Clocking in at slightly over 32 minutes on the original version, the re-released version bumps it up to nearly 43 minutes. But that shouldn’t be much of a problem. You can always listen to it again.

Initial Rating: 7/10

Current Rating: 8.5/10

Behemoth – Demigod

2007-06-13T20:05:00.000-07:00

This album is like eating one of your favourite chocolate bars. Only that it’s too little and is a bit old. I get that feeling every time I listen to this.

When I first heard Behemoth way back in 2002, I thought they were going to be the best death metal band. They are certainly more recognised now, that’s for sure. But are they better? It’s mostly yeses but there are some nos. On the brutal side of things, they’ve raised their game ten-fold. Inferno now pounds his drums to oblivion as opposed to gently whacking the crap out of it on previous occasions and the guitars are much faster now. In terms of songwriting, though, well, let’s talk a look, shall we?

The first thing you’ll notice after the first few seconds of obligatory silence is how clean and clear it sounds. And because of that, the most annoying aspect of this album is the multi-layered vocals. The clarity of the production makes it sound as though there are three Nergals. To put it into perspective, imagine a Nergal to your left, a Nergal to your right and a Nergal right in front of you. Not nice at all, I'm pretty sure of it. For the uninitiated, this may seem the epitome of brutality. After all, since it’s brutal and intimidating to have a dude bark his lungs out, then why not have more, right? Wrong. For a seasoned listener such as I, this merely annoys the heck out of me. And the solos? Let’s just say that the band needs someone who can unleash them with more force because their solos are quite frankly forgettable.

But it is the songs that leave me with a bitterer aftertaste. Gone are the longer, more thought-out songs from previous album, Zos Kia Cultus (Here and Beyond), in its place are songs that focus on brutality and more brutality. I have no problems with brutality, but, in my opinion, Nergal is way too smart to employ such trite tactics to try and jig things up. Towards Babylon, Xul and Slaves Shall Serve are songs that will pummel your head in but by the time you press Stop you’re hankering for more; so you grab your old Morbid Angel album. Memorable? Here and there. But the most disappointing song has got be The Reign Ov Shemsu-Hor. It starts off with some nice tribal beats and the main riff is pretty good. At slightly over 8 minutes long you’d think this is going to epic. It doesn’t. Not even near. It’s overwrought, bloated and mismatched. Brutal bit here, melody underneath it, multi-layered vocals here, and the awful ending with the silly blasting just makes it rubbish. And not even the usage of the kvlt word Ov helps.

Some have unflatteringly called them the Polish version of Nile. I call them the band with so much potential but in their valiant efforts to be very “death metal,” they forget to write timeless classics. Mind you, their material is hard to play and imitate but there’s nothing uniquely binding to it. But to be fair, the blame rests on the shoulders on mainman, Nergal. He’s talented, hardworking and is a pretty darn good frontman. (I’ve seen some of the live stuff and he speaks with such authoritative force you can’t help but want to whack the person next to you if he commands you to.) But from listening to this I get the impression that that he’s holding back.

What a shame.

Initial Rating: 8/10

Current Rating: 4/10

"We must fight, to run away!"

2007-06-11T21:29:00.000-07:00

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End

It just goes to show that you can’t just rely on old tricks and trite hey-I-think-I-know-this-from-somewhere scenarios to make moviegoers forget that the movie they’re currently watching is actually poorly thought-out, lacklustre and completely disappointing. This is a movie that is destined to be a guaranteed cash cow that will leave audiences either clamouring for more or relieved that this shit is finally over. I think you know which side I’m on.

I remember leaving the cinema feeling excited and truly entertained after the first one. Johnny Depp really made an impact and his eccentricities were such a highlight for me that I even copied some of his mannerisms. Yes, even that running style. It certainly was the role of a lifetime for him. In this, however, his character is reduced to a caricature of the first film. The trademark eccentrics are still there, yes, but there’s only so much flailing and funny faces one can pull to salvage a goner. I really wanted to like his performance but I left the hall feeling cheated.

I hate when films try to be too smart, just look at the final Matrix movie. It, too, suffered from a storyline that got bloated with trying to cram in as much as possible. Haven’t these people heard of the saying, Sometimes less is more? The second POTC had some of the best action sequences in recent times, and even though it was a disappointment for me, it still was somewhat tolerable. This one made me want to doze off. (And I really couldn’t for there was this amorous young couple who couldn’t stop doing things to each other, which further sullied my watching experience. I wanted to murder them.) There was just far too many double-crossing going on that it made keeping track of them a tedious affair. One minute they’re double-crossing one pirate and the next they get double-crossed and the next…With pointless subplots involving Keira Knightley reprising her Pride and Prejudice role only swords and Orlando ‘Where are my elf ears?’ Bloom, the whole movie became diluted with convolution.

Surprisingly, Geoffrey Rush’s Captain Barbossa made this otherwise insipid and confusticating movie watchable with his very pirate-y performance. He is what I think pirates would’ve been like: charismatic, cantankerous and inspirational to those around him. Plus, his pirate-y voice is spot on though there were times I couldn’t understand him. The rest were made to look pretty and the fake smudges on the likes of Bloom and Knightley made more fake.

It really is too bad that it has to “end” (the next one better be good, but in all honesty, I hope it doesn’t materialise) this way. This was an absolute waste of 3 hours.

PS: I don’t get it, but please, please tell me what the hell is so funny when Chow Yun-Fat utters the soon-to-be copied by many idiots phrase of, “Welcome to Singapore.” As a Malaysian, I don’t see how this can make you laugh out loud. I guess if he said Welcome to Malaysia instead we would have banned it for, blimey, thinking that Malaysia is a haven for Chinese pirates who strangely love to have baths in little wooden bathtubs.

Vader – Litany

2007-05-10T08:44:00.000-07:00

What do you get when you combine a thick Polish accent which leads to a lot of mispronounced words with songs under the 3-minute mark yet is packed to the brim?

This album.

The very first thing you notice (and feel) when you press Play is the colossal wall of sound coming out of your speakers. Then, you sense the floor shake a bit. The glass of water beside your bed is precariously sliding down, threatening to spill its contents. You grab it in the nick of time but by then your bodily functions cease to obey your commands. Your head starts headbanging rapidly while your arms and legs start flailing like a yoga instructor on crack.

There are couple of things one needs to do first in order to listen to this without having to call the paramedics and possibly, the furniture shop: restrain yourself from watching American Idol, don’t see cute things and most importantly, eat something. An empty is the bane of any headbanging session. You don’t want to see the pizza you ate an hour ago come out looking nothing like the aforesaid pizza, do you?

Now sit back and imagine, if you will, a bass drum the size of a small buffalo. Next, with that image in your mind’s eye, picture two bass drums the size of a small buffalo. That image in your head probably best represents Doc’s bass drum because the sound is ginormous. Some say it’s too much and drowns the other instruments. I say bring it on! Playing this album at high volumes produces an effect somewhat similar to the power of a small earthquake. With opening song, Wings, pounding your speakers, your body is left to ponder, when will it end? The answer lies nearly 30 minutes later as Vader unleash 10 more songs to damage your hearing and cause severe trauma to your sanity.

Frontman Peter (possibly the most un-death metal of names) leads his merry bandmates to uncover ways in which to punish those who choose to listen to their death-thrash laden, clear vocal approach (and I don’t mean clear in the Dream Theater sense, only that Peter’s delivery is not of the barking helldog variety) brand of Polish death metal. When you say Poland, you think of, well, carpentry, but these boys pummel you with their onslaught of death metal goodness. Peter’s songs are not meant for cerebral dissection at Mensa parties. This is how good death metal is played: fast, brutal and leaves you begging for more. Some long-time fans have said that the material here is tepid and uninspired compared to their earlier releases. It’s their lost, I guess. I love the fact that I can spin this, and for the next half hour or so I will be thoroughly entranced.

Of course, my hearing may take a severe beating and my neighbours may contemplate calling the cops but there’s no way you can play this softly. It’ll be like trying to bake a cake with a toaster. It just wouldn’t work, right?

This review is in memory of Doc (R.I.P). May your drums batter the Metal Gods!

Initial Review: 8/10

Current Review: 8/10

Sepultura – Chaos A.D.

2007-04-25T00:46:00.000-07:00

Whenever I think of Brazil, images of a certain buck-toothed footballer, Rio de Janeiro and its parties, and, of course, Adriana Lima, all come to mind. But the first thing that pops into my head is, wait for it…Sepultura.

Sepul...what?

If you’re a metalhead and if you don’t know your metal geography then you shall your metalness revoked right this very instant. However, if you were to smile like an idiot who’s just discovered the right side of wearing undies and nod in elation to the mentioning of Soulfly, then your life has to end right this very instant. Your death shall be unhurried and extremely agonising. The punishment that shall be meted out to you is…a lifetime of nothing but Celine Dion and Barbara Streisand!

All right, enough of all this nonsensical talk. Onwards to the review!

Back when I first got into metal, I thought that Metallica were the best band in the world. Then when my ears were finally unstuck ala The Matrix, I craved unremittingly for music that was faster, more brutal and at the end of the day, something that doesn’t have James Hetfield going “Ooo!” and “Yeah!” like a country singer. And Sepultura was one of the first bands to really shake things up for me.

There seems to be two ways a thrash band progress with their career: one is to maintain their sound and thrashiness; meaning not moving forward thus putting out record after record with the same riffs (i.e. Slayer, Overkill). Or, you could do what Metallica pioneered, dumbing it all down.

For some strange reason, Refuse/Resist is the Brazilian equivalent to Enter Sandman. The two have different sounds but the effect is the same though Metallica has the upper arm in the catchiness department. Territory begins with a tremendous drum intro, and guess what, the riff makes you want to jump and down at the same spot for almost 4 minutes. If your area has a political election going on, then I highly recommend this song. The incumbents will feel right at home. Continuing the theme of the world is one big ball of shit, Amen pummels the listener with a heavier than thou riff. Of course, it was inevitable that they would go back to their roots and the instrumental, Kaiowas, is the first attempt. It’s a jungle jam, replete with tribal drums and a deep sense of connection with the earth. Propaganda speaks of, well, propaganda, while Biotech is Godzilla is a vitriolic attack against profit-minded corporations who would do anything to sell their drugs. Clenched Fist closes the album commendably but is nowhere near the thrash masterpieces of Primitive Future or Infected Voice.

Chaos A.D. is an album that came out a time when the world was first experiencing the beginnings of violence and turmoil that was getting out of hand, which is now a common occurrence in today’s world. The lyrics are a reflection of that time, it is full rage and venom but musically it as though the Sepultura gang decided that hey, let’s slow things down a little, instead of having a million riffs in a song let’s have 4 so that the lyrics can be clearly heard. Many have called this their Black album, the beginning of the end. I agree wholeheartedly. Much like how Metallica managed their career, Sepultura proved that they could do the same, just as disastrous. This is by no means a “bad” album. In fact, it has some pretty heavy moments. But how can you follow up with something like this? Arise, while not as riff-o-rific as Beneath the Remains, is still a hard-hitting wallop to the face of a thrash metal record. This is by comparison a genteel smack to the derriere.

I think I see Adriana Lima (NSFW-ish) waving at me. Bye!

Metallica – Reload

2007-04-19T23:46:00.000-07:00

All right, you can stop laughing so hard now. While you’re at it, could you stop the silly grin? I’m getting redder. I’ll come clean: I was a fan of Take That (Shine is a pretty funky song), Backstreet Boys and GASP! ‘N Sync. I could even sing along to the likes of Back for Good, Quit Playing Games (With My Heart), and Get Down. Then the explosion of nu-metal—or to be more precise, music for the sonically challenged—boomed. I was one of those kids who took to it like an ugly duckling to hot water. I had the mile-long chain stuck to my wallet making me look like an aggressive shih-tzu, the cargo pants that could literally hold a cargo-full of contraband and my hair was spikier than Vlad the Impaler’s pointy sticks. I was into the Top 40 faithfully so much so that could I name—and still can—many of today’s musical artistes. This is all thanks to the country’s premier English radio station which came on air when I still trying to figure out what the heck is wrong with my cargo pants. At that time, the station played really good music. On a bright sunny day, a little band called Metallica with their new song The Memory Remains would soon change my life, forever…

Little did I know that I would to listen to nothing but Metallica for the next three years. Yes, you read that right. 3 solid years of Metallica and maybe just a little bit of Green Day. I was crazy about them. I honestly thought they were the best band in the world and that other bands were merely trying to copy, plagiarise, their works. Then I grew up. And the rest, as they say, is bla bla bla.

After that, I got older. And a tad bit wiser. (I hope so.)

I remember thinking that Fuel (the video was spot-on with the song) was one helluva fast ditty. This is by far one of their better “rock” songs. It is catchy; the main riff reminds me of a video game and it actually has a smattering of double bass from the normally lazy Lars Ulrich. The aforesaid The Memory Remains is also another catchy but hokey song replete with na, na, nas at the end. Marianne Faithful sure does creepy. Devil’s Dance has the makings of a really heavy and dark song but ruined by the lack of bass (Jason Newsted, I feel you, man) and James Hetfield still enunciating his Oooo’s with a zeal only heard in second-rate country singers. The next few songs follow a strict formula of plodding along and going nowhere. While the ideas are somewhat interesting, with a few nice riffs here and there, the gratuitous moments coupled with the obscene length of most of the songs can get wearisome pretty quick. I used to go apeshit over Where the Wild Things Are but now I can’t understand why. Probably because Newsted had a part in its creation thus making it a not-so-sucky song. Is Low Man’s Lyric the weakest song in the album? Nope. Not really. But it is by far the most grating. It’s a pseudo bluesy number that has Hetfield crooning about being a bum and all and wanting a fire to warm his hands. Once again, I have no idea. Thankfully, the album closes with a surprisingly sprightly and deliberate number, Fixxxer. Nope, I did not accidentally press X too many times.

As a whole and more accurately, a rock album, it gets a big, fat OK. Some of the material falls into the category of All Right, more than half in Ugh while the rest are utterly dog doodoo.

The Metallica name will forever be synonymous with producing 4 of the finest thrash metal records (all you detractors be damned!), one thoroughly commercial-sounding but still metal album and the rest of their discography shall be remembered only for their sellout-worthiness. As for me, Metallica will always be the band that has influenced my music preference and to a certain extent, my life, the most.

Alongside the dance sequence of Quit Playing Games (With My Heart), of course.

Initial Rating: 11/10 (I was young and highly impressionable mah.)

Current Rating: 4/10 (Trust me, I'm being too generous.)

Dio's Holy Diver Live and Whitesnake's In the Still of the Night

2007-03-16T23:54:00.000-07:00

I’ve refrained from naming my blog post as “Holy Diver Live vs. In the Still of the Night” for the simple fact that if it were the case then In the Still of the Night would win hands down. But this post is going to be about my feelings and what I thought what was done right and what was done wrong.

David Coverdale and Ronnie James Dio. These two men started out as frontmen for their respective bands and are now revered as Gods. Rightly so I say. They have nothing to prove. They’ve set the blueprint for most of today’s rock and metal singing that all they have to do now is just to put out amazing concerts. While I may never get to see them perform (thanks for bringing in Lobo for the umpteenth time!) in my lifetime, thankfully they’ve released DVD that showcases them in concert.

This review of mine is going to be more focused on the performances and the overall quality. With regards to the picture and sound quality, both are superb and crisp with all the instruments clear accompanied with a superb bottom-end.

The Good: In the Still of the Night

This DVD simply smokes. You can see the fervour in all of the members. Naturally, Coverdale is the man people want to see and hear and boy does he deliver. Here’s a man that’s almost 60 yet he still moves around like a man in his 20’s. His singing is par excellence and his stage presence is immense. Tommy Aldrige is one seriously mad drummer. He may be pushing 50 but this skinny dude wallops the drum kit like it was like a big pillow. His drum solo is a must see. No words of mine can do it justice. As a fan, this is the closest to the real thing and it’s the only time you’ll hear me sing (yes, sing as opposed to my customary growling) songs about love and the person I hope to share it with.

The Bad: In the Still of the Night

It’s too short! There’s the case of omissions of Soldier of Fortune and Sailing Ships from the setlist. While I can understand why the former wasn’t included (it’s a Deep Purple classic), I find the exclusion of Sailing Ships to be a sad thing. I so love that song! At first I thought that Coverdale might not be able to pull the high notes of the song but I think he could have. Or maybe he did perform it and he chose not to include it for reasons unbeknownst to all but him. Damn!

Minor gripe: why did they censor the F-word? C’mon, most of Whitesnake’s fans are either old or dry for crying out loud! (I’m old not dry yet)

The Good: Holy Diver Live

The entire Holy Diver album is played in its entirety. For those who don’t know, Holy Diver is regarded as one of the best metal albums of all-time. Ronnie James Dio is still as theatrical as ever (and bloody short too). Nevertheless, I must say that could he have toned down the \m/ sign a bit. He really looks like an evil elf who’s trying to torment Santa Claus. Doug Aldrich (who incidentally is now Whitesnake’s primary guitarist) does a commendable job wielding the six-strings. He played most of the songs note for note especially original Dio guitarist Vivian Campbell’s (yes, it’s the same dude in the now shitty Def Leppard) solos and what’s more is that he didn’t use his own gear since he came in as a last minute replacement for the current Dio guitarist who was injured.

The Bad: Holy Diver Live

Oh my. Where do I start with this one. Firstly, Mr Dio sounds like shit. I cringe every time he hits the high notes. Damn, I got it wrong, it should have been the trying to hit the high notes. This is the same man who gave us Man on the Silver Mountain and Stargazer for crying out loud! And here he is sounding like he has a cork stuck in his nose. The theatrics are just plain silly by the way and the embellishments of “Ooh!”, “yeah, Yeah, YEAH!” just plain sucked. And it also goes to show that while you may have sung with the brilliant Rainbow and the reason for it all, Black Sabbath, no band can sound like them. The guitar tone was too happy-sounding and during Heaven and Hell I thought I was listening to ABBA.

So there you have it. My analysis of the above DVDs. While I’m still seething from Dio’s feeble attempts I must also applaud the fact he has taken RM100 from me just because it’s Dio. My hat goes to Whitesnake. They truly put on a fantastic show and the crowd went bonkers right from the get go and stayed that way till the very end.

This is Chris, signing off. For nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow…

Norah Jones – Come Away With Me

2007-02-27T20:27:00.000-08:00

Back when it was all right to like effeminate boybands and silly-looking girlbands (which included yours truly, I remember clearly dancing to Backstreet Boys’ Shape of My Heart, something I have no qualms sharing with you guys and gals) and when jazz was perceived as music for people with large spectacles and a penchant for cigars made in Cuba by elderly men with cantankerous behaviour, came this little album from a little lady with a voice that was as smoky as it is hazy in Kuala Lumpur.

It was in college when my good friend Irwin and Kinsat bought a pirated CD from good ole Petaling Street. On the badly printed cover was this pretty, Indian-looking girl with freckles and a white woman’s name. When Irwin offered me a grubby-looking headphone to me I was assaulted by extreme tenderness. Her voice was husky and the song that I was listening to was slowly draining the lifeblood of me. I abhorred her and the world of jazz was forevermore off boundaries for me.

Funny how a few years and a good knockin’ from life can transform a man’s/guy’s/bugger’s life.

Yes, you purists will definitely vilify me for saying this, but Norah Jones is jazz albeit not of the variety that takes pride in its ability to play 100 notes a second. Her brand of jazz is tinged with hints of country and pop, meshed together to create music perfect for those days when I don’t feel like having my brain mashed by a cacophony of beats and riffs. When I first heard her voice I thought there must be something wrong with the headphones, she sounds just like an old singer I used to listen to when I was just a child. I shrugged it off, calling it boring as heck and went back to listening to Korn. (Which I have no qualms in admitting that I actually bopped my head to some their songs.)

The songs range from slow and breathy to slightly up-tempo. Opener Don’t Know Why pretty much sets the tone for the album. Probably the one most inane thing about the album is the fact that the title track, Come Away With Me, is apparently a bad song. This shocking revelation is due to the title itself, say it aloud, many times if necessary and think of the skin industry (ugh, nekkid people) and you’ll know what I mean. Still don’t get it? I sure as hell still don’t. It’s a beautiful song yet people with funny minds brand it immoral, decadent and detrimental to the soft and delicate ears of the Malaysian public. And let it be known that we have no problems with songs and the accompanying video clips from Pussycat Dolls who performed here and guess what, they weren’t exactly dressed in Eskimo clothing either and Nelly Furtado who incidentally is absolute horse droppings and a sell-out and can’t rap to save her life is signing about being promiscuous.

Maybe the moral guardians have a tough time in trying to figure out which word carries a negative or sexual connotation to it. I think a dictionary is a good investment for these prehistoric, cigar-chomping dolts.

Anyhow, the album closes with not one, not two, but three very good songs: Nightingale, The Long Day is Over and The Nearness of You. Every time it rains or when I travel I will play these songs for they really put me in a nice place. If there’s one Jones I’d like to keep up with then this lady is the one.

Initial Rating: 8/10

Current Rating: 8/10

Dream Theater – Octavarium

2007-02-13T07:00:00.000-08:00

Let me be the first to tell you that as much flak is given to Falling Into Infinity, the band’s 4^th album, I love it. Its main criticism is, what else?, the music: it was too commercialised, sterile at parts and had Hit Song potential written all over it. But overall it isn’t, in fact it has some of Dream Theater’s most memorable moments just sandwiched in a couple of stinkers. But that’s another review altogether. What we have here is Dream Theater’s 8^th studio album and is a “back to their roots while forging forward” sort of album. The world calls it, I and I’m sure many long time fans will agree with me call it OctaDisappointmentExtravaganzarium.

Let’s go straight to the bad on this one. If the preceding album, Train of Thought, was to show that hey, we have a metal side and Octavarium is our pop side. The single, biggest disappointment lies in the lap of guitarist, John Petrucci. There is no denying this man is a genius, a savant of the 6-string, his melodies have captivated fans all over and we’re often beseeching for more. This time however we’re pleading, on our knees, for a heck a lot more. The intricate guitar playing that once characterised earlier albums is now replaced by a need to unleash mediocrity. Or maybe he ran out of ideas, I’m not sure. Just listening to his solo album (which you can’t buy from the stores because he’s selling it through his website, the bugger) makes me wonder if their record label had put a leash on him, restraining him and only letting him free briefly. It is with this opinion that I believe that Dream Theater has failed to deliver what could have been the album of their career.

But a single person doesn’t go about sabotaging his own money-maker, no, it’s a collective effort. Maybe it was the dastardly pushy record label, forcing them once again to deliver a more radio friendly album. Maybe they thought, “Hey, let’s make a middle-of-the-road album and then make a really good one to show that we’ve bounced back from the ‘setback’.” With all things going against them, it’s a shame and a sad thing to note that the other members deliver solid performances. James Labrie especially has kept his higher than high register to a minimum and voices the lyrics to great effect. Mike Portnoy’s drumming is still inventive and vibrant though the need for him to sing is rather annoying. His voice is frightfully unexciting while Petrucci’s own is flat and diffident. And John Myung is John Myung, nuff said.

Songs like the ballad The Answers Lie Within make you wonder what the hell they were thinking. There’s also a chugga-chugga ditty in the form of These Walls which is good but not good enough. Then when the opening chords of I Walk Beside You start emanating you can’t help but smile at the pitiable attempt at a U2-like song. And who can deny the wrath of Never Enough with its venomous lyrics asking the fans to cut them some friggin’ slack every now and then. Sacrificed Sons is Dream Theater’s contribution to the memory of 9/11. Another set of angry lyrics with some interesting stop-go riffing and drumming. Nothing great.

But the most anticipated song is undoubtedly the title track, which also happens to be the album’s closer. It’s a 24-minute behemoth that is a lesson in patience, aggravation and what could have been a hugely momentous occasion marred by directionless directions. The opening sees keyboard wizard Jordan Rudess playing all sorts of instruments to create a soundscape that either leaves you befuddled or hitting the Stop button. The next 20-minutes or so is a hit-and-run: the good is good but often suffers from a meandering syndrome while the bad is cringe worthy of the highest order (listen to the part where LaBrie and Portnoy battle it out with hilarious results when they sing “Trapped inside this Octavarium!”). Its salvage point comes, not surprisingly, at the end, where Petrucci shows us again as to why he’s the best guitarist to hear and not watch (if you’ve watched any of his live performances, you’ll know what I’m talking about). It is however, too little, too late.

If this is going to be your formal introduction to this band then by all means it’s an all right place to start off. As for long-standing fans such as myself, I have a simple message: Dream Theater, I hope you guys do something better next time.

Initial Rating: 5/10

Current Rating: 6.5/10 (I’m being more than generous, really)

“I have had it with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane!”

2007-01-30T07:37:00.000-08:00

Snakes on a Plane

Quite possibly the most entertaining movie I’ve watched this year. Thank you and have a nice day.

Gosh darnit, I hate having to fulfil my OCD quirk of having to write more than 500 words. Truth be told, how does one write a lengthy review about a movie you know already right from the title that it’ll feature snakes, and you guessed it, on a plane. The story is terribly simple: boy witnesses a brutal murder, boy becomes witness, person who did it is atypical Asian baddie and wants boy dead, tough as nails FBI agent is assigned to escort him to testify, highly amorous snakes are let loose, the passengers wage war on the cold blooded reptiles, they land the friggin’ plane and then they all live happily ever after. There’s no formula, no plot twists whatsoever, it goes from A to B and yet you still keep on watching even though you know the ending already.

For the life of me I still don’t know why Samuel L. Jackson put pen on paper and star in this B-movie masquerading as an A-list movie. But I am thankful, oh yes, if it weren’t for his trademark acting this movie would be on the bottom of even the most stupid C-movie pile. The other actors are so stiff it was fun seeing them get bitten on the boob, stabbed in the eye by a three-inch heel, and generally dying horrible yet comical deaths. And what the hell is wrong with them snakes? We all know that pheromones make male animals go extremely gaga but biting people on the jugular with pinpoint precision is a bit much don’t you think. The snakes would kill each other first, and then seek the stupid humans who are slathered in the frisky inducing scent. And can you actually land a real plane without the proper education, notwithstanding the fact that you’ve played a simulation of it for countless hours?

What’s that? Oh right, I forgot, it’s a movie.

The negatives are so bad that it actually is positives if you look at it properly. The acting is about as natural as Tara Reid’s chest attributes, the special effects are pretty decent, the storyline was probably drummed up by a pimply boy with a giant poster of some female wrestler in a tight fitting handkerchief, and the dialogue loaded with banal one-liners that they actually worked. But that’s the genius of it; you’re so offended and insulted by the absurdity that your brain shuts down for awhile and lets your funny bone be tickled pink.

The moral of the story? Doesn’t exist. Maybe kids will start playing flight simulator games. I don’t know. For sheer entertainment value this movie gets full marks. It takes quite a lot for me to laugh at movie jokes but this managed to get me chuckling and on occasion spurt out my chocolate milk. Through my nose. Sure maybe I lost some of my intelligence but it was for the sake of being entertained for one and a half hours. If there’s one movie to make your hypertension go down a little then this is it.

Iron Maiden – Dance of Death

2007-01-16T21:04:00.000-08:00

I am not the world’s biggest Maiden fan. In fact, I can’t even consider myself a fan, not in the real sense of the word, anyway. You see, if you’re a fan of the band, then you’ll surely be in possession of most if not all of their albums. To be considered a fan you’d have to say that your favourite Maiden numbers are their classics: The Trooper, Killers, Phantom of the Opera and so on. Heck, you might even say that the classic Maiden line-up featuring Paul Dianno and whoever it was in the band at the time, is the best.

Not me.

Most metalheads would demand for my head for saying such blasphemous statements. Iron Maiden has some of the most fervent and loyal fans ever. After all, this is the band that helped shaped the music of heavy metal into what it is today. They’ve inspired countless bands and imitators. Some bands have come quite near though none seem into my mind currently so you’ll just have to accept my word for it. This is due to the fact that Maiden has a sound that whenever you hear even the first few chords, it is instantly and unmistakeably theirs.

So what is the Iron Maiden sound? It’s very simple: soaring vocals, beautiful arrangements, infectious melodies, sweeping solos and of course, the most annoying bass sound in heavy metal. All right, all right. Maybe not the most annoying but it certainly ranks high on the list. Put down that axe and hear me out first. I’ll try my best to justify my opinion. The bass in heavy metal is used primarily to boost the heaviness. It is also a part of the rhythm section together with the drums therefore mindless noodling on the bass is a big no-no when you’ve got the guitarist to do all the said noodling. I like it when everyone gets their instrument heard in the final mix. I go, “Ooo, there’s a double bass run,” and, “Ah, that’s a funky bassline there.” But when the bass is as annoying as Steve Harris’s then you’ve got a problem.

How do I describe the sound to someone who’s not heard it? Well, it’s sort of like garlic. I love garlic. I can eat a whole bulb provided it’s cooked right (raw garlic gives me gas). But when the garlic is overpowering the flavour of say, a lamb stew, then you’ve got yourself a dish that while is somewhat delicious, is also making you sick. It plods like a constipated elephant. It’s like a bridge that’s loose, held on only by duct tape. Steve Harris may be a good songwriter, at times subscribing to protraction and is slightly pompous, but by golly does he annoy me. On a good day, I may not be bothered by the obnoxious sound but that only happens rarely.

It’s a shame really because the material on this album is really good. I reiterate, I am not the world’s biggest fan of Maiden so if you find me gushing all over this then you can sod off. Where was I? Oh yes, the material. It opens with a somewhat catchy but forgettable track that is just a precursor to the first single, Rainmaker, a song with a silly video of silly men in silly costumes dancing in the, what else, rain. Montsegur is the “fast” ditty of the album, though it is marred only by sluggish drumming courtesy of bungalow-sized drumkit beater Nicko McBrain. McBrain is by no means a bad drummer, he’s good, knows when, what and where to hit the drums. It’s just that he’s slow. It’s the kind of slow that’s not too slow as to be almost plodding, but it’s slow enough to make you want to beat your fist on a freshly laid road. Paschendale is by far the most epic sounding Maiden song I’ve ever heard which would make any diehard fan feel faint and strangely murderous. It’s probably the only time I actually forgive Harris and his silly bass. The album then closes stronger than the start, which in many albums, is the way it should.

I may not be the world’s biggest Iron Maiden fan and frankly I couldn’t care less. I’d rather be the guy who likes this album very much.

Initial Rating: 7/10

Current Rating: 7/10

Chris’s Top 10 Metal Songs of 2006

2006-12-22T21:57:00.001-08:00

What a year it has been for me. Without question this has been the most interesting year in terms of my music development. Yes, I say development simply because every time I listen to something new, be it a new band or an already established one with a new album, it becomes a lesson, a never-ending education and a journey of music. Sounds girly but oh well.

So without anymore ado that is sanely necessary, I present you, Chris’s Top 10 Metal Songs of 2006:

1. Deicide – Homage for Satan

Forget the stupid lyrics. Been there, killed Jesus yadda yadda. It’s not even remotely menacing or meaningful (for lack of a better word); it’s just a song with absolutely mindless lyrics. I used to hate, loathe, abhor, detested and other related synonyms Deicide. I thought Glen Benton was the silliest death metal vocalist (I still think he is) ever. The entire album you can hear him belching and squeal like a pig. But who gives a shit? Just listen to Ralph Santolla’s solo and you’ll understand why this is my choice for the number one metal song of 2006.

2. Mercenary – Lost Reality

The brutal Danish biscuits are back! I was a happy demonic bunny when news of their recent album said that while it doesn’t top their previous album, 11 Dreams, it does sound great. This song has dominated my playlist ever since I got it not too long ago and it jumped all the way to the second spot on the strength of the vocals and the harmonies. This is some top-notch stuff here people. Makes latter day Soilwork and In Flames sound like Incubus (they suck big time and all you Brandon Boyd fans out there can shoo off).

3. Vader – As Heavens Collide

I was close to writing these Polish legends off my list when they released the album preceding this. It was horrible. I was blown away when I first heard Wings which in my opinion is their best song EVER! but this plain sucked. When Doc (R.I.P dude) was unceremoniously ejected from the drummer’s chair, he was replaced by a drummer who I felt didn’t capture Doc’s imaginative and downright brutal style. So when this new album surfaced I thought what the heck, I’ll give these guys another go. It was like listening to Wings again. I was blown away only much further and harder. The opening drum and guitar assault of this makes me want to rip every single teddy bear in a department store. It’s that good.

4. Suffocation – Redemption

Frank Mullen may not possess anymore the deep, guttural, demonic rumble that scared me shitless when I was wee lad but he still manages to keep it low enough as opposed to the hoarse, vomit-sounding whisper of latter day Lord Worm (their last album was a big letdown vocally). What’s interesting about this song is that it’s not uncompromisingly brutal like Hate Eternal or blindingly fast like Deicide, it’s just simply mind-crushingly devastating.

5. Gadget – Day of the Vulture

I was never the biggest fan of grind. I love the godly Nasum (R.I.P Mieszko), the one-off genius of Terrorizer (I say one-off because I repudiate unreservedly the latest album), and I dig some Napalm Death. Clocking in at a lengthy 2:25 (it’s an eternity in grind terms), these four Danish madmen pound the listener unremittingly. Excellent if you’ve had a rough day and that My Chemical Romance sound rather pusillanimous (I like this word!) this is the song for you.

6. Zyklon – Vulture

While I read the reviews saying how brutal this song is I was salivating slightly. One of the better bands to have graduated from the school of Morbid Angel, this is off their 3^rd album. Initially, I was disappointed. I thought with a much better production and a tighter understanding of each other they would have upped the ante a little. Unfortunately, no. I’ve been spoilt rotten by all the brutal stuff lately and listening to this reminds me of Pantera; it’s brutal but not quite. Nevertheless it’s catchy and I love barking “Vulture!”

7. Yyrkoon – Signs

Oddly, this song is not even in the regular version of the album. It’s a bonus track off the digipak version. It’s a classic Yyrkoon song: drums hard-hitting, thrashy death metal riffs and features the distinct distorted vocals of Steph. It’s basically—I dare say—an all out “fun-sounding” death metal song.

8. DragonForce – Through the Fire and Flames

Hahahaha! The band’s name itself always elicits a derisive girly giggle from me. How can you respect a band that obviously revels in being goofy, fantastical and bloody fast all at the same time? Screw the respect, just headbang wildly and haphazardly. Old women watch out!

9. Arsis – I Speak Through Shadows

Unholy fruitcake of Beelzebub! For all you people who think that current American metal is Trivium and Lamb of God, think again. Think real hard. Arsis is a two-man band and they’ve put out the most harsh-sounding melodic death metal record of the year and this song is the best of the bunch. The end alone makes me want to thrash wildly and snip off my neighbours flowers. It’s that good.

10. Slayer – Cult

When I first heard this I was thoroughly disappointed. I thought that since Dave Lombardo is back on the skin-beating throne, the drumming would be top class. Marred by a horrible kick-drum sound (it sounds like rapid mouse clicks), Cult is yet another religion bashing, religion hating, thrash ditty that surprisingly gets better with more listens. It’s only the list because I don’t have many albums from 2006 and Iron Maiden’s latest is too patchy at times.

So there you have it. There’s not much variety I know since almost half of it is death metal but this year saw me rekindle my fervid fixation of all things mindlessly brutal.

Till then, I welcome 2007 with the devil horns!

Cornetto Love? Perhaps Blah Blah Bleh

2006-12-04T18:56:00.000-08:00

The middle one is my favourite. Nice, um, accent.

"I tried my best and I have no regrets at all."

No, this isn’t about that dude who single-handedly cemented the fate of all Chinese geeks that they can’t sing for shit but rather my attempts at attracting the opposite sex (I’ve gotten some looks from gay men before and it’s really not the most pleasant feeling in the world). This is about a show which has just concluded and declared its “winners”. A series with more twist than Twisties, the show had garnered a loyal following of about a dozen people and all of them were on the show.

Would I enter a contest—a show on TV—to find love? I can’t really say for sure. My personal opinion is that these kinds of shows merely perpetrate the notion of finding love rather than cultivating it. How can any sane, gorgeous, smart and oh so lovely woman, choose a guy after 12 episodes? These guys have to strut, play the fool, entertain like a court jester, charm like snake charmer to win their way into the heart of their desired woman. It’s like how animals want to reproduce. Female peacocks don’t choose the more caring males who are sensitive, they choose the male that can impress them the most. The bigger the tail, the better.

We’ve finally reached the end of Cornetto’s Love? Perhaps. A show that had built itself considerable suspense and enough intrigue to keep most people interested but the grand finale, the shocking climax, ended up being the mother of anticlimaxes. It was humdrum at its most humdrum. Nothing surprised me. It was all way too much and far too little. It’s a show that is both silly and puzzling and somewhat demeaning. Oh yes, there was the obligatory back-stabbing, clandestine alliances, and the gorgeous host who tried in desperation to keep the wheels of suspense turning even though it was flat right from the get-go. She’s gorgeous all right but really, she should be doing something else other than hosting.

One of the taglines of the show was “Play the game of love and be a winner,” or something to that fact, I don’t really remember on account of the absurdity of it all and me watching Amazing Race. But is love a game? Personally, I would never call it that. I’m pretty old-fashioned when it comes to the matters of the heart even though I’m a metalhead with one of the metal of hearts.

Imagine if you’re the “winner”. What are you going to say to people, that I won a goddamn show and here’s my girlfriend who’s also the grand prize? But let’s stop for a while and eat my year’s supply of Cornetto’s. Would you be yourself?

A previous post of mine mentioned that:

I would I guess what I’m trying to say is that 99% of the time I’m very glad that my money is all mine to spend, but when the 1% does happen, I do wish I had a special someone to share it with.

Thanks to Lia, the above is juvenile and silly and I didn’t think it through properly. The meaning was there, it was just worded in the most ghastly of sentences. You guys get the gist, right?

Here’s to the next season.

Chimaira – Chimaira

2006-11-26T23:15:00.000-08:00

American Karate. American Football. American Beauty. Ugh, the last one kind of doesn’t make sense.

What do those things have in common? What did you say? No, it’s not Bush and another gaffe but the fact that the word American is affixed to the front to describe a certain entity that is as American as to what anime is Japanese. When you say karate, you think of Japanese men with their long hair bundled neatly into a bun with their arms and legs poised to attack. When you say football, people around the world think of Manchester United (Yeah baby!), Brazil, Pele, and of course, David Beckham’s impeccable dress sense and girly voice. But when you see the American in American Karate is becomes a new beast. Instead of buns of hair you have mullets and a strong fondness for Rocky Mountain oysters. American Football is of course the only sport in the world celebrated in only one part of the world, America.

But what we have here ladies and rough-men is called American Metal. Quite simply put, American Metal is what Pantera is what Judas Priest is to metal. American Metal is a subgenre of metal characterised by its innate chugga-chugganess, harsh vocals (a cross between drunk and growling) and riffs reminiscent the Swedish Melodic Metal scene and of course, American sensibilities.

Chimaira, alongside Lamb of God and um, Trivium are the current leaders leading the American metal scene. What this means is that these bands have harsh vocals a teenage girl is capable of producing, melody lines that haven’t been cool for the last 10 years and generally disliked by more experienced, angrier-looking and truer metalheads. Yours truly, on the other hand, doesn’t give a flying shit about being true; if I hear something nice to my ears then I’ll say it’s nice.

Vocalist Mark Hunter has probably one of the most annoying voices in modern metal. Every time I hear his voice I am reminded of eunuchs before they became eunuchs. He’s a grown man, six-feet-tall, sports a mean-looking nose ring yet he sounds like a high school girl who took testosterone pills instead of those pills. The music is simple: growl here, growl there, somewhat catchy chorus, rehashed Metallica solos, end of song, NEXT! The biggest problem this album has is strangely their strongest element: the metalness. In their valiant attempt of trying to prove to the big boys that hey, we are metal godsdamnit! and we’re not like Slipknot! they’ve taken upon themselves to be as angry and tough as they can be. Sadly, those moments are few and unsatisfactory. Opener Nothing Remains merely hints as to what may from these Oakland natives. It is mid-pace, with the drummer initiating a tribal groove before the fade-in effects kick-in and there you have it, Chimaira’s transformation from pseudo metal punks to bona fide metal mongers. The rest of the album follows a strict formula that works occasionally.

Somewhat major gripe: When you have Kevin Talley, who in my opinion is the new drum god, you’re not supposed restrain him. He’s a hard-hitting, don’t give two shits, bloody fast drummer who in his previous stint as Dying Fetus’s skinbasher, pummelled the listener while at the same time executing highly technical chops with panache of a bear in a tutu. It’s like asking Jackie Chan to be careful when he jumps from a two-storey building. To him, it’s like skipping rope!

I think Chimaira hoped that this album would be their ticket to metal stardom. Wrong. While the direction they’re heading is the right one, they’ve got quite a long way to go before they can release their own Reign in Blood or Master of Puppets. Better luck next time guys.

Initial Review: 6/10

Current Review: 5/10

In Flames – Clayman

2006-11-26T23:12:00.000-08:00

I remember clearly the day I bought this album. It was getting darker by the minute. The bright day was transformed into a gloom that made everyone depressed. The minibus (gosh I miss those days) driver was madder than normal. The lady who took my order of fish-and-chips was acting all weird and moody (PMS can be a real pain). Even the street peddlers who were busy frying deep-fried things were all lugubrious.

Except for me.

That day would be the starting point for my evolution into the Chris that I am now. The album in question is the catalyst for it all. From humble beginnings as an ardent listener of long-dead classical composers, The Beatles, Elvis Presley and a host of other artistes my parents listened to and 80’s stuff from my sisters, I was about to embark on a totally new, and somewhat frightening musical endeavour. I was a chain-wearing, bespectacled wannabe ruffian, “nu-metal” purveyor (nu-metal does not exist, for the mere fact that it is not metal to begin with but that’s another story altogether), bored with all the Limp Bizkits, Korns, and other wimpy bands.

Before I decided to get this album, I did a lot of research to make sure that what I was about to buy wouldn’t leave me really pissed and RM70 poorer. I read countless reviews, comments and when I finally downloaded a song, I was instantly hooked. It was an experience like no other: the vocals were horrid, like a man pinching his throat, the drummer’s pounding the daylights out of his kit but it was the guitars; the melodies, the solos, the riffs, everything, that sealed the deal. I wanted it and I wanted it right now. And the rest is history.

As much as I abhor current In Flames, this album holds a very special place in my metal heart. With dubious songs titles such as Pinball Map (the aforementioned song I downloaded earlier), Swim, and Another Day in Quicksand, I owe my metalness to these songs. In school I was quietly and superiorly smug, I was different from the rest. While they were still drooling over rock infused with (c)rap, I was a man listening to real man’s stuff. While my friends were into hip-hop and easy listening rock bands like Incubus, Hoobastank (stupid name for a band), Papa Roach, in my CD player was underground metal from Sweden, the land of blonde bombshells and meaty meatballs.

Granted, this is the beginning of the end for these Swedish metallers. In hindsight, this is a sub par, hook driven album. It is essentially the metal equivalent of a pop album: the choruses are merciless in their catchiness, the riffs are no more the colourful work that drove their earlier releases now replaced with a desperate urge to make it catchy and jumpdafuckable. It just screams sell-out and is rightly so.

What’s interesting to note is that while this is a downright painful and embarrassing moment in my personal history, it must be said that without this sell-out album I wouldn’t be where I am now. So thank you In Flames, for setting me the foundation to bang my head silly, stick my tongue out, wield the devil horns like a man high on Red Bull and ultimately, the metalhead I am today.

Initial Review: 9/10

Current Review: 6/10

Megadeth – Rust in Peace

2006-11-26T22:59:00.000-08:00

We all know Dave Mustaine’s story and its wretched, depressing spin-off, Megadeth. He was a Metallica guitarist right until the point he had one too many drinks, too stinking smashed to do anything cohesive that the other members bade a pitiless adieu to him. The parting was so acrimonious that Mustaine swore bloody vengeance upon the other members of Metallica. Since then a rancorous relationship developed with each band heading towards the same destination but on a different route. Megadeth relied heavily on their music and while the band got more technical, wrote better, thrashier riffs and songs they still failed to overtake Metallica’s meteoric rise and superior dominance. Metallica in contrast injected large doses of classical-inspired melodies and generally had a much more charismatic frontman in the form of James Hetfield. And it also didn’t help in Mustaine’s case that he still kept on drinking like a broken tap.

It was only after Metallica decided to abandon their thrash roots altogether and opted for a more commercial sound did Megadeth find themselves with an opportunity to surge ahead. To finally prove that they’re the better thrash metal band. The culmination of Mustaine’s earlier efforts together with an explosive guitar player heralded the coming of this magnum opus. It must be said that Mustaine’s ability on the guitar is undeniable. He unleashes thrash riffs of the highest order. But his vocals, oh my sweet Metal Gods, for a man’s man he sure sings like a boy about to broach puberty. His high-pitched, nasally, two-dimensional (it’s either whiny as heck or whiny as hell) vocal delivery is by far the most grating, maddening, exasperating, shit-filled I’ve heard in all my years of listening to metal. It single-handedly annihilates what could’ve been a perfect thrash metal album. I have no more words or antonyms to describe the terror of it. It really is bad. Thankfully, if it weren’t for the music and Friedman’s godly solos I would rather listen to the sound of drilling, be stuck in a sampan with waves as high as skyscrapers crashing on my head, have tigers roar in my ears and even pay William Hung to sing than listen to a single, horrifying Megadeth song.

Many will agree that the first two songs, Holy Wars...The Punishment Due and Hangar 18 truly belong in the echelons of thrash metaldom. The rest of the songs border between good and so-so, none of them seem to reach the aforementioned classics’ brilliance. Tornado of Souls while features only one solo from Friedman does a fine job of keeping it together. The next few songs are all right, nothing fancy, just thrashy as heck.

There is no denying that if it wasn’t for Mustaine and his impersonation of a boy discovering Playboy, Rust in Peace could have been in the top 5 of my favourite metal albums of all-time. But as it stands it manages a comfortable but disappointing top 10 finish.

If there’s only one Megadeth you’ll ever want to listen it’s this one, no question about that.

Initial Review: 8/10

Current Review: 8/10

“Whatever is left of me. Whatever I am. I’m yours.”

2006-11-19T19:24:00.000-08:00

It's Casino Royale! Not Royal!

When I first heard that a bunch of Americans were going to portray decidedly very English characters in a certain fantasy movie about a powerful ring and little people who don’t wear Nike shoes I was incensed. No offence people (all you Americans, you know I love you all) but somehow English actors have a certain air (read: snooty, nose up in the air, humour drier than a desert) about them that no one has. I don’t have it, the only air I have comes from the south. But I was completely blown away when I saw the movie. All was forgiven. Except for one thing I still don’t quite agree, chiefly why the hell did Liv Tyler have to talk like she was a pseudo ethereal woman dying of boredom and why, in the name of all that is good, is Sam Gamgee a fat hobbit?

Then there was the terrifying-looking Dobby, the house elf from Harry Potter. I imagined Dobby to be like the batty-looking creature from a cartoon. You know, big floppy ears, huge eyes that glistened every time he recalled a sad story and basically looking like a cuddly, cute elf. But when I first laid eyes on the final product my expression was that of a guy who swallowed too many oranges at one go. It was hideous. It looked more like an imp, at first you think it’s harmless and wouldn’t harm you. Think again, it has claws. It has an evil-looking snout for crying out loud! It looked like it was going to drag you into depths of Hell, and make you watch reruns of Charmed for eternity.

So you see it all depends, sometimes your expectations can be shattered into a million pieces or you could leave the cinema with a smile on your face. Daniel Craig is by no means a metrosexual’s man. His face is craggy, the lines as thick as spaghetti and of course, the blond hair which is more brown than anything and is someone you can be friends with. But gosh damn he’s brutal. Pierce Brosnan is too much of a gentleman and is simply not as intense as Craig. That’s why he’s the best Bond since Sean Connery.

This is a Bond that is both soft and cold as steel all at the same time. There’s none of that swaggering stiff upper lip when he orders his martini and he doesn’t give a damn if it’s stirred or shaken. It’s just a very human Bond and a pair of very fitting Speedos. It’s probably the only Bond that I sort of feel for, a man so sure of himself that he needs to be sarcastic all the time so that people don’t make a mistake by calling him short. I also liked the fact that the villain wasn’t a diabolical, stark raving mad psycho bent on world domination. He’s just a darn good poker playes who weeps blood and has a thing for ropes with knobbly ends. Eva Green simply smokes, ‘nuff said.

I must point out that if you do watch this here in Malaysia, you’ll be sure to thank the censorship board for their much injudicious and downright potong steam (mood destroying) snip-happy fingers. And I also must add that the theme song from Chris Cornell is the best Bond song, period.

This review is pretty much superfluous, so just go and watch it now. It’s definitely worth it. I am looking forward to the next one. Till then, I’d love a martini shaken!

PS: German cars are too German, if you know what I mean. There’s nothing sexy about them. It’s Teutonic efficiency at its finest. Italian cars on the other hand are too sexy, lines slenderer than Heidi Klum’s silhouette and isn’t masculine enough. Therefore, Aston Martin is the perfect car for James Bond. It is quintessentially British, sleek yet not silky smooth, powerful but not overwhelming, and is gorgeously mean. What more can a man ask?

Dream Theater – Score DVD

2006-11-10T02:13:00.000-08:00

Who would have thought that a band could accomplish so much yet still has so much more to offer? Some bands after a few albums will gradually slide the downward spiral of mediocrity, with each subsequent album being rehashes and incorporating more radio friendly tunes. Or some just fall from grace straightaway, now languishing with run of the mill ideas and clinging desperately to their glory days when they were a bit slimmer and their tummies didn’t bulge that much. Not many bands continue to climb, reach milestones and put out material that still continues to surprise old-time fans. Dream Theater is one of those bands. They have been consistently releasing album after album, going on lengthy tours and still manage to find time to do other things.

This concert was filmed at the famed Radio City Music Hall, New York, earlier this year to commemorate Dream Theater’s 20 years together creating progressive metal (purists be damned) music. The video is par excellence. The many times I put my face a few centimetres away from the TV screen made me feel as though the guys were playing in front of me (cross-eyed is so not my look). The sound is pristine with every instrument ringing with clarity and a bottom-end that never fails to rumbles.

Naturally the setlist isn’t to my liking, which is a given since every fan would have his favourites thus no one is satisfied. I would have liked to have seen more of their less popular numbers but I guess they went for the haven’t-been-played-in-a-long-time songs. The material on board is culled from their 8 albums with a good mix of familiar and rarely played songs. Of course, this is also in support of their 8^thalbum, the good in its own right but overall highly disappointing Octavarium (look out for my review!) so you’ll see a lot of those songs from that album. The two “new” tracks, Another Won and Raise the Knife, sit comfortably with their officially released material and provide fans like me two more songs to like from them. Another Won is from 1985, the year the 3 core members first got together and I must say that it’s a fun song. The melodies are clearly Iron Maiden-esque, with hints from other British progressive rock pioneers. Raise the Knife is from their Falling Into Infinity (FIT) sessions which has a definite pop sound to it, which is not surprising considering that FIT was their most commercial sounding album till Octablahrium overtook it. The bonus tracks consist of songs that I’m not that keen on. Well that was before, as now I’m enjoying the said songs whenever I listen to them.

All is not perfect, unsurprisingly. The evermore stolid John Petrucci has considerably piled on some pounds but what’s the relevance? If a guy as generously proportioned as Dino Cazares (former Fear Factory guitarist) is capable of jumping up and down without so much as cracking the floor then I suppose you’re able to at least headbang or headshake or headnod. I don’t know but he’s just there, rooted to the floor with his pedals at his beckoning and his vainglorious footrests whenever a complicated run takes place. Mike Portnoy drums standing up for crying out loud! Jordan Rudess looks a little tired but as usual delivers a solid performance nonetheless. I’m also happy to report that James Labrie, the man who gets vilified unremittingly because he sounds like Whitney Houston before she got too hooked on crack, gives the performance of his career. There’s passion, anger, and power in his voice that I’ve never heard before in their previous live concerts. Also, he has opted for a more utilitarian approach by shedding the unbuttoned shirt with a tee with unspecified design. I have no idea why I put that in.

The first half is basically a retrospective covering material from their inception to their more recent output. The second half is where things get a little more interesting with the ingeniously named Octavarium Orchestra providing all the (what else?) orchestral bits. Their presence is certainly felt and heard, as they lift the songs, giving more depth and spirit. It’s not like Metallica when they had the San Francisco Symphony with them, where some of the songs just didn’t come together well, this is certainly one of the better pairings. The Octavarium songs are given a new lease, sounding more urgent, and on the whole not as wishy-washy as the studio version.

But the most important question is whether or not you should get it. The answer is a resounding Yes. The second disc has a good history lesson for all you Dream Theater fans who didn't know much of their struggles and achievements. Like most bands seeing them live is an experience like no other. For long-time fans this is as close as it gets and for casual fans it’s a great place to start. After all, if 6000 fans saw this concert it can’t that bad can it?

Initial Rating: 8/10

Current Rating: 8.5/10

DragonForce – Inhuman Rampage

2006-11-10T02:01:00.000-08:00

Quite possibly having one of the silliest band names ever, DragonForce is a force that will leave you wide-eyed, gobsmacked and makes you want to heave your breakfast, lunch and yesterday’s dinner. They play a brand of power metal (silliest name for a metal genre apropos of its silliness) that pushes the boundaries every single time they get their instruments plugged in. This, my friends is an album that will test your fortitude and sanity to the very end.

DragonForce makes no apologies for their brazen, ebullient, and pedal to the metal approach to their music. If they’re going to do something it might as well be to its most extreme they said once. Yessiree, this album has it all and more; riffs and solos that break the sound barrier, vocals that are so high Whitney Houston would be high just by listening to it while the songs are so metal it makes tanks as brittle as wooden horses. It’s like being bludgeoned by Winnie the Pooh. I kid you not.

Even if you have strapped yourself firmly to your seat, right from the start you are pummelled by the musical bombardment and praying for it to end. Your senses are pushed aside and you’re left gasping for air because your breathing space has been wiped out by these mongers of wanton metalness. Opener, Through the Fire and Flames, adroitly encompasses what DragonForce is all about; brimming with extreme confidence in their ability to create mind-boggling, inhuman progressions, and packing more than is necessary that they forget the most important element, the most nascent of things inherent to a composition, and that is the song itself. They go all the way and forget to come back. They sacrifice the listener’s constitution to tolerate such extremity that people of lesser vigour will chuck the album into a darkened corner never to be seen or heard from again. Ever. It’s like stepping on the accelerator of a Bugatti Veyron, the initial shock of gravity pushing your whole body into your seat is terrifying but highly thrilling. You go all the way and the world passes you by in a series of blurry instances. But after awhile you get sick, and even if you could go on there’s not enough road.

I’ve listened to a lot of metal albums, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about. I’ve listened to death metal albums that blast from the first second all the way to the last. I’ve listened to black metal that had screaming and yelling that it became tedious when the 100^th time the vocalist says he wants to kill himself for Satan. But nothing prepared me for this. The first time I played it, I had to stop by the 4^th song. I was exhausted from all the over the top stuff. There is only so much theatrics one can stomach in one sitting. I know of some people who felt dizzy after the first 45 seconds of the aforementioned opener. Imagine what would have happened if they were subjected to the whole song which clocks in slightly over 7 minutes. To listen to DragonForce takes a very strong stomach and a pair of ears made of steel. I don’t know about you but death metal doesn’t seem that brutal after all.

Initial Rating: 5/10

Current Rating: 6/10

Metallica – Ride the Lightning

2006-11-04T22:13:00.000-08:00

Riding high on their debut, Kill ‘Em All, they wasted no time in coming up with a second offering. While the debut could be seen as a prototype as to what would become their next albums, it was clear that these lads had more up their leather jackets. The first was unquestionably raw, hoarse in its vocal delivery and basically set the tone for future thrash metal albums. Now with everyone settled in, especially for former Exodus guitarist, Kirk Hammett, and livewire bassist, the late Cliff Burton, provided the band with a whole new approach during song-writing. This new understanding and tight collaboration helped to create a classical tinged, oft melody driven brand of thrash metal. At the same time there were the other thrash metal bands: (collectively known as the Big 4 during their halcyon days), Anthrax rather straightforward, Megadeth still was trying to gain a foothold and Slayer was embarking on a much darker and faster sound.

The sophomore effort of these thrashers saw them travelling all the way to Denmark to record this album and with their new found confidence Metallica themselves produced the album. The sound was atypical of that era; the snare drum as though made of concrete, the guitars wailing and piercing and the bass actually audible through it all. Fight Fire With Fire quickly dispels the notion that they couldn’t write a brutal and melodic song. Featuring a rare, speedy double bass run by the oft maligned Lars Ulrich (he’s a crappy drummer all right but he has a keen sense when it comes to song-writing), it pummels the listener into thinking that the end is truly near. The title track which is repeatedly ignored by fans in their top Metallica songs of all-time, deals with the death penalty. Fade to Black is a song that deals with suicide and it was conveyed in the form of a ballad. Not a sappy, lovey dovey ballad like Whitesnake, but a metal ballad, with driving guitars, desperate vocals and Hammett’s best solo of all-time. They were naturally the recipient of criticism, a slow number in a thrash album is like asking Motley Crue to stop writing about sex and drugs. But they took a gamble and it paid off.

Many of the songs on this album went on to become regular fixtures in their live performances and rightly so. For Whom the Bell Tolls with its eerie and haunting end while Egyptian themed Creeping Death provided fans the chance to scream their lungs till it burst with its “Die! Die! Die!” background chant during the breakdown. Closing it perfectly is the H.P. Lovecraft inspired instrumental, The Call of Ktulu (a deliberate misspelling of the ancient horror because for its real spelling alone evokes despair and dread).

Personally, this album means a lot to me. I remember listening to nothing but this and Master of Puppets for 2 years. While many quote the latter album as their most favourite of all-time, I would say that Ride the Lightning is their crowning glory. It’s not as thrashy as the first nor is it as melodic as the third. It’s the perfect blend of both worlds.

When they were at the top, nothing could have toppled them except of course, themselves. And that was the truth.

Initial Rating: 10/10

Current Rating: 10/10

“Are you watching closely?”

2006-11-03T22:58:00.000-08:00

The Prestige

I was very close to be disappointed. I knew beforehand what the movie was all about, who the actors are and what I might expect from the director that gave us Batman Begins (brilliant) and Memento (I need to watch this). No, the reason why I was almost disappointed was because I had to sit three rows from the bloody screen. I was afraid that the discomfort of having to crane my neck to watch the movie would have clouded my final judgement. In fact, I was so engrossed that by the end of it I didn’t notice the soreness until after the credits rolled. Now that’s a sign of an enjoyable movie.

Before I move on, I would like to ask when was the last time a mainstream movie actually made you dumbfounded in the beginning but when all is revealed at the end, you sit back, take a deep breath and say, “Shit, how could I been so dumb?”

The Prestige is just that. I know many are going to watch this simply because of ole adamantium claws, and everyone’s favourite Aussie, Hugh Jackman is in this. But you’re in for a surprise as he gives quite possibly his best performance in a movie yet. Forget about the campy fun of Van Helsing or the for ever cantankerous and never out of a catchy one-liner Wolverine, Jackman delivers the goods as a charismatic and tormented magician. There’s also the incredibly intense and engaging Christian Bale who almost single-handedly revived the Batman franchise after the disastrous outing by the swaggering and cocky George Clooney. Throw in Michael Caine who’s becoming the Welsh version of Morgan Freeman, who gives the movie that light touch to a very heavy script the much needed compassion and empathy. Featuring a notable supporting cast the movie is not short on talent. It has enough intrigue to pique even the most hardened whodunits lover who thinks he knows it all. And who wouldn’t want to solve a mystery about the tricks and secrets that make up a magician’s life?

It begins where it ends. I for one love this method of storytelling; I know the end but how? And couple this with the story being simultaneously told by the two main protagonists, the effect is that it keeps on building and building the suspense till the shocking revelations. Of course, if the plot becomes too convoluted or sidetracks then all is for nought. I’ve watched many a movie where the end revealed only disappointment. The Prestige cleverly avoids these pitfalls while still teasing the viewer’s intelligence and perceptiveness throughout the course of the movie. While it may be slightly draggy at parts, it never loses focus on the prize: and that is to see who can perform the greatest magic trick ever.

It is also a story about the effects of obsession, the ultimate sacrifice, and what would you do to get your hands dirty. What was once done out of passion is now done out of pure greed and malice. Each magician tries to outdo each other, at first simply by trying to replicate the tricks. Easy but still no good. Time to up the stakes. With each becoming more and more successful the dirtier they are willing to learn each other’s secret, the prestige. Bale is undoubtedly the most talented, though not as good selling his show while his dedication to the art sometimes pushes his loved ones away. Jackman is the better of the two when it comes to performing. He is charming, suave and eventually is consumed from within when a tragedy occurs. He transforms into this cold and callous man fuelled by the one thing that has caused him so much joy and pain: secrets. Caine at first appears like any other old man; experienced, knows the trade inside out and acts as the voice of reason to Jackman but he has a trick up his sleeve. Bale is calculative and cunning and yet never calm. In the end you’re rooting for everyone and no one.

The pace is kept at a comfortable speed, with the scenes going back and forth to reveal bits and pieces. You can’t be complacent, you have to keep your senses focused because just when you thought you had it the movie drops another mystifying plot twist. I watched it without wanting to overanalyse it, I wanted to be surprised and slap my forehead at the simplicity and genius of it at the end. I still am.

This is one of those movies where there’s no second time watching it. Well maybe not so soon but it’s one that you have to really think back and remember what you saw. Only then will you peel away the layers, and marvel at the brilliant script. It’s also one movie where a sequel is totally out of the question. I mean, what are they going to call it? The Prestige 2: The Return of Scarlett Johansson’s Décolletage?

You really should have been watching closely…

Slayer – Reign in Blood

2006-11-03T21:18:00.000-08:00

The reason why we have metal bands singing about wanting to deface Christ during lunch and why God’s a lady in red with a pink tutu is because of this band and this album. Anthrax was busy goofing around and taking things seriously unserious, Megadeth was trying its best to prove that hey, Metallica sucks because their riffs sucks while Metallica was trying their hand at dominating the world. But Slayer, oh my, they were the like rebellious teen; hair was a bit too long, the pants were a little too tight and the costumes they donned gave rise to the movement that it was okay to wear 10-inch nail bands on your wrists. And Slayer just didn’t give a damn. All they wanted to do was to make the fastest metal record and play it to the masses that were ravenous for some really fast and heavy thrashy stuff. Reign in Blood did just that (before a small band from England by the name of Napalm Death usurped them of their throne) and many have hailed it as one of the most influential metal albums of all-time. This is no small feat, what with bands like Iron Maiden, Judas Priest and the reason for it all, Black Sabbath, who themselves have released monumental albums of their own.

Look, I don’t give a flying toss (or a stationary toss for that matter) but a thrash metal album isn’t Shakespearean poetry, it’s all about thunderous drumming, speedy riffs, atonal solos, vocals that make you wish American Idol was on and enough attitude to keep school councillors busy for ever. Angel of Death kicks things off by introducing to the world that it was a-okay to scream like a girl amidst a barrage of double bass and a flurry of really thrashy riffs. Satan wasn’t as ala mode then but it did get the people talking. Short history lesson, the angel of death they’re referring to is none other than the infamous Josef Mengele who decided to gas people to see if they would die quicker, all in the name of science, madness and the Third Reich. Rumour has it that this is the most covered metal song. Necrophobic is a Slayer song that will leave you, like it’s said in the lyrics, gasping for air. It’s only a mere minute and a half yet it still manages to deliver a brutal punch to the senses. Jesus Saves has a riff so headbangable I have to remind myself that operations for neck injuries are very costly. The next few songs onwards merely go through the motions and sets up the finale of all metal finales, Raining Blood. A staple in their live shows, this song is for people to go absolutely wild to. Never mind what the lyrics mean, just listen to the breakdown in the middle. Bands have taken up instruments just by listening to that alone. I kid you not. And rumour has it that this is the most covered metal song.

But why is Reign in Blood so influential? As we look back, not all the songs are perfect or even great for that matter but nonetheless good. If you take each song and analyse each one by one then I’m afraid you’re missing the point completely. Clocking in no more than 30 minutes, Reign in Blood is a tad short at first but then you notice the genius behind it. Even if it was 5 minutes longer or shorter it would’ve ruined the vibe. Reign in Blood is the best album of its generation simply because it doesn’t pretend to be anything more or less. You could say without Venom there wouldn’t be Slayer. But without Slayer, the metal that we know it wouldn’t exist. And for that, Reign in Blood thoroughly deserves the praise and tributes.

So there you have it, a metal review by yours truly! More to come, so stay tune. In the mean time, Bang the head that doesn’t bang!

Initial Rating: 10/10

Current Rating: 666/10

Declaration of Whacker Inc’s Exclusive Entertainment Reviews

2006-10-28T22:56:00.000-07:00

Declaration of Whacker Inc’s Exclusive Entertainment Reviews

All right, since I have the gift of the gab (I think so), I thought why not put where my mouth is into words. I’d like to call this space an extension to my highly popular and entertaining (a guy can dream right?) Whacker Inc. This particular blog you’re reading chiefly concerns my thoughts, a review of sorts, to all the entertainment that I’m subjecting my salacious mind to. Whatever that is written here is mainly for me to expand my writing capabilities and I hope that people who take the time to read will enjoy it or wish me execrated with an ancient depilating disease. At least you read it nonetheless.

Thank you, and be sure to check back for the reviews! Till then, take care!