Monday, March 7, 2011

What An Asshole!--Volume 1

I make no bones about my past or my opinions on this stupid, pointless blog of mine.  If you've ever read more than one of my posts, you will have noticed that I tend to make embarrassing confessions and bare my soul on here far more than anybody should be doing on the Interbung.  After all, the truth has no quarter in the realm that launched phenomenons like "Two Girls One Cup," "Tub Girl," and lemonparty.org (do yourself a favor and don't look up any of these if you're still lucky enough to be woefully out of the loop.  Seriously).  But I have managed to replace God, my family, and community service with this blog, and since telling the VFW Hall organizers that they can stick their BINGO cards up their asses too closely resembles humility, I have no intention of turning back from the ways into which I've set myself.  I'm too old, dag nabbit!
Don't try to change me, baby.  Also, have you seen my penis?  It seems to have gone missing.
 
However, with my increasing age and (through the magic of alcoholic beverages and no password protection on my laptop) willingness to own up to embarrassing things publicly, I've managed to gain some additional wisdom in this aging process.  Wisdom like: don't trust anyone over 30.  And if you're over 30?  Well, find a cool 16 year old who doesn't mind having an adult who can buy him beer hanging around and asking for advice.  But realize that he's never going to trust you, and for good reason.  Another piece of wisdom I've gained?  Old metal rules.  Like, so fucking hard.  I'm no square, now; I've always loved me some old Metallica, but I'd be grossly exaggerating if I indicated to you, fair reader, that I've ever really gotten into any of the other Big 4 thrash bands or any of the lesser known but still-amazing bands that were their contemporaries in the 80's.  
 
I am, right now, owning up to never having really given Anthrax or Megadeth a chance, and with the exception of a short-lived Slayer phase that was ruined by the oft-panned God Hates Us All album (Undisputed Attitude, FTW!), I never really gave Slayer a fair shake, either.  The years spent without Kreator and Sepultura, the nights I spent sad and lonely without the sweet embrace of Judas Priest to comfort me, they haunt me now!

So untr00 am I!  Oh, the agony!
 
I am most haunted, however, by one ghost in particular, the Marley brothers to my heavy metal Ebenezer Scrooge.
Motorhead.
 
Kill me if you must, but leave my giant bank of money that I swim in alone!
 
I've been rocking some old tuneage on Pandora radio lately, which is a good tool to just put something on during work and let the good old Interbung guide your musical journey (until one of your coworkers decides that he's going to create a Bob Marley station while you're on lunch, and then you have to see that shit on your station guide forever).  We tried out Black Sabbath radio, which was totally sweet except for all the shitty Ozzy songs that tend to come on between all the good Black Sabbath and old Metallica songs.  So much Ozzy!  As if I don't get to hear "Bark at the Moon" enough times over the course of one day in my limited contact with the radio, here it is again!  I got saucy one day, though, emboldened by a string of Motorhead songs that had played over the course of my coworkers' lunch breaks, and created a Motorhead radio station.  And I was delighted by what I found.
 
Oh, the wonders of 80's speed metal!

I think the thing that stings the most about Motorhead and my missing out on the fun is that I had, in fact, attempted to get into Motorhead when I was in high school.  Admittedly, I wasn't very open minded in high school in regards to music.  Oftentimes, if there were a guitar solo or a band just didn't sound enough like Bad Religion or the Dead Kennedys, I would pan it as garbage and instantly move on.  Motorhead seemed like the kind of band that I should be into, though, and since I was such an uncompromising individual, I did what all of my friends were doing and got a Motorhead album.  The album I got was Ace of Spades, named after the only Motorhead song I could at the time identify.  Looking back, it seems that Motorhead should have appealed to me immediately; however, since metal bands tend to do things like "write songs that sound different from other songs," and none of the other songs sounded exactly like "Ace of Spades," I was quick to pan Motorhead as garbage and immediately move on.

What an asshole!

I've been spending a lot of time lately trying to atone for this, getting to know Motorhead and associated 80's metal bands better and praying to Lemmy to forgive me and send me a new bicycle for Christmas, one that's good for doing wheelies and that I can jump over a car if I build a ramp. 

Also I want a Nintendo, and please bless mommy and daddy.  Amen.

In the spirit of, well, most other parts of my life, I feel like such a tool for having chosen to remain ignorant and a bunghole about something so basic and delightful for so very, very long.  I've chosen to name this segment with the word "volume" in it because there are a great many things that I have been missing out on for a long time, and I'd like to make this as regular a segment as possible as I stumble upon bands that I've never given the time of day to.  And yes, I know I have a million things up here with the word "volume" in them, but this one, unlike all the others, will actually have other volumes to it (probably).

I'm so sorry, Lemmy.  I'll try to make it up to you as best I can.  But you still shouldn't have released those major key songs; those ones aren't so good.

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