Doing stuff in an alley, real tough-like.
Swedish grind mavens Nasum have been gone for years. It's not a pleasant story, or even anything ridiculous that we can make fun of (like Mike Portnoy's departure from Dream Theater). For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, Nasum's late singer, Mieszko Talarczyk, tragically lost his life in the most metal possible way when he was swept away and killed in the 2004 tsunami. The grind world wept for their fallen angel, and one of grindcore's best and most powerful acts abruptly halted all activity. And understandably so, as Talarczyk was the lead singer and one of the principle songwriters for the band. But, with a globe spotted with impending financial crises and the end of the Mayan calendar looming, at least one great thing is slated to happen in 2012 (I don't count the new Batman movie because, according to the X-Men and Spiderman movies, the third installment is slated to be a miserable failure): Nasum is still dead. But the living members are teaming up with Keijo Niinimaa from my current grind passion band Rotten Sound to give Nasum a proper sendoff once and for all.
Tour dates haven't been announced yet, and we all wait with bated breath to see how far we're all going to have to drive to go see the show nearest to us. Look for a frightened me lost in Houston or Dallas, the only two cities that could possibly pop up in Texas for show dates, unless Nasum pulls an Immortal and inexplicably plays San Antonio. Then I'll be all like:
At any rate, I was so excited to hear this news that I decided that I would take a little reprieve from my coffee drinking and classical guitar playing (this tuxedo really chafes, though) to alert any weirdo who reads my blog instead of a reputable news blog, which is one guy whose name is Marty. So there you go, Marty.
Go read the official press release on Nasum's website and get your dicks hard, because we're going to experience the shitstorm one last time in 2012. And then the ghost of Quetzalcoatl will come flying out of Mayan Hell, I imagine speckled with smallpox, to destroy us all. I, for one, am working on getting a sweet tan so that I can pretend to be a Pacific Islander or something in hopes that Quetzalcoatl doesn't know any better. But I imagine he'll still be able to smell my white blood.