I'M GOING TO STEAL THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE

OK, maybe not.

I'm way too busy for such shenanigans, what with all my sweet guest appearances on heavy-metal-and-conspiracy-themed podcasts (OH HEY, did I mention that the "Illogical Conspiracy" episode of Metal Injection's Hand Ov Doom--featuring Yours Truly--is up now?), tours, forays in the IllCon clothing line, and the impending move from SF to Oakland... Shit, I've hardly got time to brush my teeth, much less accompany Extraterrestrial Nic Cage on his next adventure through the catacombs of subterranean Washington, D.C., searching for hidden messages in the text of ancient documents.

But long story short: The Apocryphon show in Arcata (Vallejo got cancelled--long story) was a fucking blast (see photos below for evidence), and thanks to all the die-hards who showed up. Dates are solid on our next Northwest tour, more on that in a second.

Now is the part where I devolve into an extended period of shameless self-promotion. Apologies in advance:

THIS SUNDAY, APRIL 29TH @ HEMLOCK, SF:

BADR VOGU

PRIZE HOG

APOCRYPHON

and motherfucking AUTHOR AND PUNISHER! Get a load of what this guy is all about:

What a freak.

Then, the following Friday, @ The First Church of The Buzzard in Oakland:

THE HAUNTING PRESENCE

MUKNAL

SUTEKH HEXEN

CRUCIFIXION (impossible to Google)

APOCRYPHON

Be there.

Then Apocryphon plays with Cerebrate (from Eureka) and Bone Sickness (ex-Funerot, Olympia, WA) at The Elbo Room Saturday, May 19th.

Then the mighty DALTON has a show at an art opening for our pal Ben Venom (remember him?) at Guerrero Gallery in SF with our bros Hazzard's Cure on June 9th.

Then Dalton is playing an epic "Rock and Roll Bro-B-Q/Fucking In Tents Fest" camp-out type thing in Half Moon Bay with Total BS (they're a Bob Seger cover band), Beer Drinkers and Hell Raisers (they're a Zed Zed Topp cover band), Chablis, Bar Fight, and Girl Problems on June 16th. We might even get a mechanical bull for this one. Seriously.

Then Apocryphon is playing in Eureka Thursday, June 28th (local bands and venue TBA).

Then Apocryphon is playing at Slabtown in Portland Friday, June 29th (local bands TBA).

Then Apocryphon is playing The Kraken (formerly Galway Arms) in Seattle Saturday, June 30th (local bands TBA).

And then...

That's right, motherfuckers. Apocryphon with Anhedonist, Grave Miasma, Vastum, and fucking DEAD CONGREGATION at the Oakland Metro Friday, July 6th.

More summer shows to be announced in the near future. Meanwhile...

Check out IllCon Radio tonight for an interview with the porn-soaked YouTube enigma known as The Spelunker, whose Smut Cave videos were previously featured on the blog RIGHT HERE. Tune in to FCCFreeRadio.com at 10 pm PST, and J.O. into the vortex with us!

"unfortunately terms like 'tin foil hats' may be amusing but serve the purpose to discredit conspiracies before fact 1 has even been looked at. Well done for being patronising (sacracsm)"

- some guy commenting on my episode of Hand Ov Doom

T-SHIRTS, TOURS, DOOM, ETC... (The IllCon Empire Never Sleeps)

ATTENTION HESSIAN MINIONS: ILLOGICAL CONTRAPTION NEEDS YOUR HELP!

First off, you can "help out" ol' Uncle Cobras by tuning in to the Hand Ov Doom show on Emerson College radio tonight, where I'll be appearing to discuss conspiracy theories, metal, conspiracy theories in metal, and all things great and small pertaining to the IllCon Universe. The show streams live 5-7pm PST (that's 8-10 EST, dummies) right HERE, then goes up in podcast form (via Metal Injection.com) right HERE. While you're at it, why don't you "help out" Metal Injection too, by heading over to iTunes and subscribing to their entire podcast roster, which includes not only Hand Ov Doom but a veritable multitude of excellent metal-oriented broadcasts as well: Metal Injection podcasts on iTunes!

Secondly, we implore the more artistically-minded amongst our dear readers and listeners to help us out with yet another podcast/radio-related item--of course, I'm speaking of the IllCon Radio T-Shirt Design Contest!
This really cool bro from Rochester, NY's own HTB Press has put an offer on the table in regards to producing some IC Radio-themed garb, and we're fully stoked on making it happen. The only problem: WE SUCK AT DRAWING THINGS. Can you draw good? Are you a fan of the show? Would you be interested in seeing your very own alien-smoking-a-bong-on-the-back-of-a-unicorn design emblazoned on the front of an IllCon Radio shirt, and would you be psyched to receive said shirt, for FREE, in the mail? Well shit, dude. The address is illogicalcontraption(at)yahoo(dot)com. What the fuck are you waiting for? We'll accept sketches, written ideas, scribbles on bar napkins... Whatever. Let's do this.

Thirdly (and most important): Let's hook up some Apocryphon dates for this summer! If you're an Illogical Contraption reader, you're also undoubtedly an Apocryphon listener, so how 'bout you help out your favorite psychedelic deathgrind homies with a couple tips on booking West Coast dates? We've only got a couple small windows of opportunity to get out of town this June, and the specific dates we're looking to book are as follows:

- Thursday, June 7th: Eureka/Arcata, CA
- Friday, June 8th: Portland, OR
- Saturday, June 9th: Seattle, WA

- Friday, June 22nd: Los Angeles, CA
- Saturday, June 23rd: San Diego, CA

Do you live in any of these places? Where are all the metal-friendly venues and easy women? Who has the cheapest booze? WE WANT TO PARTY WITH YOU. Let's make it happen!
Again, illogicalcontraption(at)yahoo(dot)com, or check us out (if you haven't already) on Bandcamp/Facebook/Last.FM. (Groovy DALTON news coming up in June as well, stay tuned...)

Speaking of epic tours:


This Friday...


Apocryphon is slated to devastate "The Dank Room" in Vallejo on 4/20, along with Short Fuse, Ill Content, Viral, and ZombieDeathFuck (Newtdick dropped off this one). Facebook "event page" HERE.

Then, Saturday:


Back up to the 'ol hometown (namely The Alibi in Arcata) for a night of cacophonous, sludgy, schizophrenic chaos with our best bros Hazzard's Cure. NOT TO BE MISSED.


Thanks again for your encouragement and support in all things IllCon. We'll be seeing you out on the road soon!

FUCK PIETY

These guys vs. Jesus, guess where my money is?

Straigh out of the frozen, hoary wastes of Singapore (home of the equally crushing Abhorer) comes IMPIETY, who you are no doubt fully acquainted and obsessed with by this late in the Satanic-blackthrash game. Formed all the way back in 1990 (Abhorer formed in '87, for the record), these non-pious Hessians have always worn their primitive influences (Sextrash, Sarcofago) proudly on their lengthily-spiked sleeves, as evidenced by their original band name (it was "Sexfago"--lols).
There is little to no bullshit present on these, their first two full-length releases--just an unrelenting onslaught of blasting drums, tremolo riffs, hoarse screeching about "Socerique Baphostorms", "Anal Madonnas", "Sodomythical Frostgoats", and "Hymnvocations of Nazarethian Nunwhores", and an abundance of seething, malevolent, diseased misanthropy. Oh, and some cool keyboard noises.
Happy Friday the 13th you fucking un-Baptized heathen scum.


ASATEERUL AWALEEN (1996)

Download HERE


SKULLFUCKING ARMAGEDDON (1999)

Download HERE
Purchase HERE


Metallum/Last.FM

JUNGLE ROT - SLAUGHTER THE WEAK (1997)

According to my blood-spattered Mickey Mouse wristwatch, I'm wayyyyy overdue on sharing some completely mindless, boring, middle-of-the-road death metal with you guys, so as a deep, heart-felt apology, please accept this, Jungle Rot's very first full-length--the aptly titled Slaughter The Weak.
Str8 out tha mean streetz of Kenosha, Wisconsin, Jungle Rot are the very epitome of generic midwestern DM--the type of band that shows up fourth-or-fifth billed on every goddamn metal fest, always lurking at the periphery, rarely venturing outside their comfort zone or well-worn lyrical themes (which Metal Archives list as "War, Torture, Death, and Killing"). But that's their charm, really. Uncle Aesop put it thusly (in reference to Deicide's first album): "Sometimes you just want a hamburger... Not a bacon double cheeseburger, not a western burger and definitely not some pussified garden burger, just a burger, plain and simple."
Jungle Rot is a fucking hamburger, too. I like hamburgers.


Download HERE
Purchase HERE

Metallum/Last.FM

Also, this:

Herpes – Medellín (1989)

My first ever post for Illcon detailed the recorded output of Parabellum, without hyperbole, one of the most leftfield, fucked sounding death metal bands ever to exist. In that particular piece I was tempted to mention guitarist Carlos Perez's side project, with the the not-easily-Googleable-in-public moniker Herpes, but I decided against it. I don't want to tempt fate, and I fear that crossing two streams of such unrelenting force and brutality, parralel though they may have run, might cause some sort of rip in the fabric of the universe, some irreversable disruption that I don't want my fingerprints on. But here we are, several months hence. I feel the coast is clear and I hope I'm not wrong.

Herpes was the brainchild of the aformentioned Perez, who I believe played all the instruments on this release (information is fairly scant). The genre tag closest in proximity to this album would probably be grindcore, but that's only part of the picture. Grind, in 1989, was one of the most fringe forms of music, with its practictioners pushing the boundaries of conventional tonality. But compared to Herpes, the Napalm Deaths and Bolt Throwers of the world seem reserved, almost conservative, in comparison. I can't even say with any certainty that there are riffs or structure present in any of these songs. Growled vocals and blasting drums are audible (the former more clearly than the latter), but these are buried in sheets of dissonance, cascading waves of caustic, searing noise. Presumably this is provided by guitar and bass but it's difficult to tell. The album sounds like a recording of some sort of industrial metalworking facility pushed past peak production to the verge of collapse.

It ultimately sounds closer to Merzbow or early power electronics practictioners than it does any metal band. The tonality, if the term can be accurately applied here, is so thoroughly destroyed that even making a comparison is a tricky endeavor. Herpes (now as an actual band, I think – there are live videos that show more than one member) did release an album in 2004 that displays a comparable lack of regard for conventional structure, but lacks Medellin's cavernous, brittle anti-production. This constrast is interesting, because it almost seems like the recording studio itself was as much an instrument in the construction of Herpes' sound as the actual guitars, drums, and vocals were. Because while the band's most recent material is interesting, it lacks some of the vicious rawness of the debut, a point that underscores Perez's ability to utilize what might seem to be a setback (a shitty recording studio) as an advantage, an aesthetic signature that nobody in his time was able to really come close to. Plenty of bands consciously tried to come up with material this noisy and came off contrived, this shit is the real deal. It's brutal because it has to be, there were no other options available. Thoroughly noisy, thoroughly fucked sounding, but also an inimitable transmission from music's fringes.

--

Herpes – Medellín (1989)

WINTER NON-MIXTAPE 2011 (A Month Late, Sorry)

Dang. It seems that while we were all cheerleading for the defeat of SOPA and patting each other on the virtual back, somebody snuck in and shut down Megaupload. Bummer. As we bid our old friend MU adieu (and with it, about 75% of the music on this site), we must remain calm and determined in the face of adversity--for there are vast, terrible things still upon the horizon, and our only weapon against the forces of greed and evil is our unity. Stay strong, O my internet brothers and sisters. Stay strong. (PS I don't plan on going back and replacing every single missing Megaupload link, but I'll re-up files on request if you guys ask me nicely.)

Speaking of staying strong, I assume most of you are abreast of recent happenings over at our long-lost twin blog The Living Doorway (we must share at least, like, 90% readership, right?), namely Brother JGD's introduction of the TLD Fit Club, a forum for fat Hessians to talk about (and act on) getting skinny and healthy. As JGD and I share a brain, it comes as no surprise that I am fully on board with the Fit Club, and had actually already undertaken the monumental task, lo these past few weeks/months, of shedding my massive suds-gut, eating right, running, lifting, exercising, etc etc etc. That's right, folks: you can kiss Cobras' fat ass goodbye, and enjoy a much longer, sexier, and more sensual kiss with my brand new, toned, skinny ass. Pucker up.
But enough about my rippling torso and rock hard pecs. I was thinking about things a little, and realized that, via the weird psychic connection between JGD and myself, I'm probably more responsible for the TLD Fit Club than he is. I mean, we do share a brain. We like all the same shitty wigger slam and proto-death. We both buy stupid Santa hats to put on our cats at Christmastime (pictures available on request). Doesn't that basically qualify me as CO-OWNER of the Fit Club, if not outright CEO? I think it does, and as such, I've put together a little treat for all you pasty slobs looking to get blasted in 2012. It's been done before (by Sergeant D, I think), and by God it'll be done again, but I made a sick workout mix for you guys as an entry for the (month late, sorry) Don't Call It A Mixtape series, to guide you on your path to utter washboardism. Behold:


Today's delayed mix comes in two hour-long volumes, and basically serve as a Greatest Hits collection from the Cobras DM pantheon. I know when I'm blasting through my fiftieth set of inverted lat-curls, I need some super-crunchy, nad-pumping death metal spewing into my earholes, not too tech-y, too slow, or too slammy (although slam is often cited as a worthy workout companion--rightfully so). So that's what we've got here. Two rock-solid hours of cardio-friendly grind, spanning the entire twenty-plus year existence of the genre we all love so much.

Use this mix wisely, and you will reap the benefits for years to come. I'd like to thank JGD for introducing the concept of Fit Club invite JGD to join in on MY new Fit Club idea, as well as extend the invitation to all you sad, pathetic, fat fat fatties out there too. Let's get ripped.
Speaking of JGD, can you guys believe the crappy graphics he puts together over there on The Living Doorway (right)?
Seriously? MS Paint? You're better than that, Bro.



COME AT ME BRO (Part 1)

61:05, 103.4 MB

DOWNLOAD


COME AT ME BRO (Part 2)

60:46, 97.1 MB

DOWNLOAD


Pictured left to right: Cobras, Swayze, JGD.

KALIBAS - PRODUCT OF HARD LIVING (2002)

Credit to former Cretaceous/current Apocryphon bassist Jumanji for suggesting Rochester, NY's KALIBAS to me recently--dude is a Bro amongst Bros despite his misguided Republican ideals, and beyond the sick grindcore recommends he even stooped to being my stand-in date for a Devo concert at the Fillmore this Saturday past. What a dude.
Anyhow, Kalibas' ultra-chaotic brand of spazzy, sample-laden death fits in nicely with the ol' IllCon Value System, although it's their dirty-basement-dwelling, semi-DIY aesthetic that really sets them apart from the camo-shortsed pack of hyper-riffadelic Suffo-clones out there. This is DM with a big old set of nasty, hairy balls--crunchy as fuck and miles from the sterile, studio-perfect tech that we've all learned to settle for a decade later. Apparently, they broke up shortly after the release of this album, but realized the folly of their ways and re-formed in 2007, enjoying a second life that brought us the epic Rumors of Our Demise Have Been Barely Exaggerated in 2011. I recommend checking it out, along with the smattering of other demos and splits these Sasqautchian Malmsteenites have produced over the years.

They're no Devo, but they'll do for a lazy Monday afternoon.
Your face = melted.

Download HERE
Purchase HERE

Metallum/Last.FM


ALSO:


Episode 18 of Illogical Contraption Radio is now up for download and streaming HERE.

Get lost in labyrinthine conspiracies about Kubrick’s The Shining with a cavalcade of goofy guests: our old pal Dr. Franklin Ruehl, drag goddess Peaches Christ, filmmaker Rodney Ascher, and Excepter’s John Fell Ryan. A stunningly redundant journey through the mind of Hollywood’s most brilliant hack, with heavy metal and drunken stupidity to spare.
GET ON IT!

Suppression/Grief - Split EP (1995)

Growing up in a relatively small, somewhat culturally isolated city tucked away in the recesses of the Blue Ridge Mountains, punk rock came as a fucking godsend. I'll spare the whole getting-into-the-music story that's been done to death, but suffice to say it made an impression. However, while it tapped into a lot of feelings I had previously no understanding of how to articulate, most of what I could find out about the music in those days before the internet was the ubiquitous force it is today seemed to indicate that it had ended around the time Sid Vicious died, or in the case of hardcore, around the time the Bad Brains broke up the first time around and all the New York bands went metal. Coverage was scanty, so I took what I could get. I discovered Heartattack and more contemporary bands – His Hero Is Gone, Gehenna, Rorschach, etc. - not long afterwards, but it still seemed like something that happened a million miles away.

But I would search out what I could, often spending my limited early teenage income on whatever records looked cool. Not a great formula for finding killer music, but in one notable case it provided more than a little blowing of the ol' mind. It was such a small thing, something that would've been so easy to overlook, a split 7” with a flimsy green cover with some photos of dudes playing and destroying instruments on one side and some shit on the other that looked like it could've come from some high school stoner's art project. And it was a dollar. So I took my chances.

And one side was good. A band from Massachusetts called Grief. I'd heard some slower heavy music before – Melvins, Sabbath, etc. - but Grief took it all and injected some serious psychotic depressing vibes to it. I enjoyed it (if “enjoy” is the right word for something so nihilistic), gave it a few listens and flipped it over. The other band, Suppression, simply fucking destroyed. I'd heard some grindy shit before, had my mind similarly blown by Napalm Death not much earlier, but Suppression was next level. It was a feral blur, sheets of sound draped over blastbeats with harsh noise textures clawing their way through.

I didn't really know much about this sort of thing. I had no real exposure to noise beyond my dad's Sun Ra albums. I had no idea that there was this genre of lurching start/stop noise called power violence and that Suppression was one of the most vicious yet interesting examples of the style. And until finding that record, I had no idea that they (or anybody with ideas so extreme) were operating in the same small, punk rock-deprived city that I lived in. And that was the other facet to how mind-blowing Suppression was. Their music was – and remains – fucking killer. But that such a band could pop up in the same boring, backwater town in which I felt so isolated was an amazing feeling. It brought the world closer to home and provided an example of how great things can be made out of mediocre surroundings.

I managed to get most of Suppression's releases over the years and the majority of it is spectacular. It's like if Man Is The Bastard kept the noise parts, but instead of wandering off into the more technical instrumental parts, they opted for the blunt ferocity of Crossed Out or No Comment. Even after power violence turned into a higher-profile subgenre in recent years, with hordes of shitty youth crew bands throwing in a few blast beats and thinking that turns them into the next Infest, Suppression's music remains as bracing and compelling as when it was released.

During the late '90s, the band moved more into noise/ power electronics material and for several years their only performances and releases saw the band indulging their most dissonant impulses. It was interesting to watch – I recall one show where the band attached amplified contact microphones to bibles and beat them to shreds with dildos – but not always easy to sit down and listen to. In more recent years, the band has operated as a bass-and-drums duo, working in a vein that's somewhere between Ruins and early Butthole Surfers – frantic, obnoxious (in a good way) noise rock (sample song title: "Well Hung Toddler") that surprisingly doesn't stand in too stark contrast when the band breaks out some of their old power violence material, as they've thankfully been doing recently.

Bassist/singer Jason Hodges (the only consistent member of Suppression) runs an excellent label called CNP Records, which put out a compilation of all the Suppression material from their early years that's definitely well worth picking up. But as a bit of a taste of the mayhem inside, the band's split with Grief, the sort of new lenses that helped my younger self view the world differently, can be acquired below.

--

When caged like animals, we will act accordingly.

ANATA - THE INFERNAL DEPTHS OF HATRED (1998)

"... where there was nature and earth, life and water, I saw a desert landscape that was unending, resembling some sort of crater, so devoid of reason and light and spirit that the mind could not grasp it on any sort of conscious level and if you came close the mind would reel backward, unable to take it in. It was a vision so clear and real and vital to me that in its purity it was almost abstract. This was what I could understand, this was how I lived my life, what I constructed my movement around, how I dealt with the tangible. This was the geography around which my reality revolved: it did not occur to me, ever, that people were good or that a man was capable of change or that the world could be a better place through one's taking pleasure in a feeling or a look or a gesture, of receiving another person's love or kindness. Nothing was affirmative, the term "generosity of spirit" applied to nothing, was a cliche, was some kind of bad joke. Sex is mathematics. Individuality no longer an issue. What does intelligence signify? Define reason. Desire - meaningless. Intellect is not a cure. Justice is dead. Fear, recrimination, innocence, sympathy, guilt, waste, failure, grief, were things, emotions, that no one really felt anymore. Reflection is useless, the world is senseless. Evil is its only permanence. God is not alive. Love cannot be trusted. Surface, surface, surface was all that anyone found meaning in... this was civilization as I saw it, colossal and jagged..."

- Bret Easton Ellis,
American Psycho

Download some Swedish death metal HERE.
Or buy it.

Metallum/Last.FM

MONDAY MORNING (?) MEXICAN PORNOGRIND CORNER

Metal brothers, we are now in Day 10 of cold turkey withdrawal from lllCon West's benevolent mother teat. I have to say, I CRITICALLY underestimated the reach of Shelby Cobras's influence and the strength of his resolve. I see now the man will stop at nothing. See, my kid hasn't stopped throwing up for two days now. How did we go from pot shots at my spelling to attempted INFANTICIDE?? Well, it's gonna take more than a few chow showers from an 18 month old to weaken MY resolve. Thanks to Jason, who rightly reminds me of my sworn duties to uphold, MONDAY MORNING MEXICAN PORNOGRIND CORNER goes on.

Uritkaria Anal is this week's featured scumfuck porn-shilling monstruos. On Divine Depravation, they eek our nearly an hour's worth of microphone-too-close-to-the-mouth guttural ejaculations, glandular skinwork, and lyrical STDs. If one jam called 'Sifilis' isn't enough for you, don't worry, this record has two. I don't quite get what happened but the recording fidelity switches gears halfway through the album and you get like these alternate versions (maybe?) that let the songs breath a little more (which, really, is what pornogrind needs isn't it? just a little more breathing space?).

has anyone used Tako to ama for pornogrind cover art yet?

Jesus Christ, what kind of distortion does that guy use on side 2 anyway? Anyone know? Not the HM2; maybe that $50 Digitech unit? I dunno, it fucking RULES though. My first band, Sticky Bear, recorded STRAIGHT to some Maxwell 60 mins. (if we were flush that week; otherwise it was Sonys). My Peavey Predator came out sounding exactly like this.

DAT FONT

You know how bad you hate it when someone says your music all sounds the same? Yeah, well, every track sounds EXACTLY THE SAME here. Flip this on the hi fi, crack open a high life, and expand your horizons.

Uritkaria Anal - Divine Depravation

Cryptosporidium Parvum - Demo 2008

I hereby direct your attention to Cryptosporidium Parvum, a quotidian blip on the acne-pocked face of pornogrind circa late 00s. I normally have little patience for this sort of thing but CP's brand of sloppy, under-produced, overblown grind endears itself to me every time. They've got a track, "vaginal love" on their 2007 demo whose amorous title is out of place with pornogrind's usual over-the-top nomenclature and whose beginning does not sound entirely unlike "Louie, Louie." So where most bands lose you with their tales of clitoral evisceration, CP warms the heart with a track about simply loving pussy. Even if this kind of thing isn't your kind of thing (pig grunts and the like) do yourself a solid and have a couple of chuckles over the video for "Ay, Mamsheeta" below. That's right, Mamasheeta. See what they did there?

couldn't find any band photos so used this instead

Cryptosporidium Parvum - Demo 2008

Important Announcement for the New Year

After a decade of bitter infighting and rancour between two ideologically polarized camps within ICHQ, I am delighted to announce the grand opening of IllCon East, a new subdivision of IC Enterprises which is charged with ensuring East Coast considerations are factored into decision-making around marketing, product development, and systems change. This venture comes on the coattails of a debate that has been percolating beneath the surface of everyday business and has made working alongside one another no longer possible. I now present to you IllCon East's mission statement:

FUCK YOU, WEST COAST

Allow me to explain...

Here on the East Coast, being metal is a fucking chore. You have to work at it. If you're a metalhead and come from anywhere East of Sanford Parker's fiefdom, Ohio, you're already handicapped. You're fucked. You have to ship in all your bullet belts and patches from El Salvador. Out on the West Coast every other day Wormrot is playing in LA, fucking Brocas Helm is playing Gilman or whatever it's called, blah fucking blah.

2nd one from left is 9th grade me

I was just talking to These a Beast, who lives in Jersey, about what shows we'd been to recently and it was downright scornful. The only show either of has had been to in the last month was the same goddamn show, one night apart from each other. Granted, it was Inquisition, and they fucking killed, but still. West Coast's got the labels, the communal groundswell, the bands, the venues, AND legal kush. It's like the metal is being handed to you on a silver plate; all you need to do is MOSH.

And don't get me started on Black Metal. How do you have all these awesome goddamn black metal bands on the West Coast? What do YOU know about Black Metal? Any 'banger worth his Nargaroth back patch knows Black Metal is all about winter, midnight vision quests through frost-choked ravines, taking your shirt off, and takin' a pic for the album cover. What does the West Coast know about winter? Where I'm from we're living an Immortal album 30% of the entire year while your metal bands are playing flutes around the bonfire, fucking celebrating the harvest, and yukking it up over a sack of northern lights.

er, we're not all like this, promise

(Speaking of New Jersey, that's probably the most metal places on the planet ain't it? Fuck sylven forests of primordial hardwoods and awe-inspiring ocean vistas, forget Norway...New Fucking Jersey man. It's basically built on top of toxic sludge and car parts. Anyone who elects to live there voluntarily earns their spike cuffs automatically.)

is more metal than

The East Coast always seems to get left out of conversations about metal (New Yorker notwithstanding), perhaps due to regional metal xenophobia, perhaps ignorance, perhaps its the smaller profiles of the bands, maybe a combination of all this. We gave you NYDM, Dio, Grief...the nascent scuzz-BM scene (see Mutilation Rites) is giving the Black Twilight Circle a run for their money IMHO...hell we've got Florida so right there we've buttoned up 90% of the American Death Metal legacy.

ANDMANOWAR

i know u like my layout skills

Now, I'm not saying we're completely infallible. In fact, we owe you a couple of apologies: namely Liturgy, the whole Savannah/Atlanta thing (seriously, what the fuck is up with the whole Kylesa/Baroness/Mastodon scene? can someone fill me in plz thx). We MIGHT be single-handedly responsible for metalcore also, now that I think about it. Whoops lol. I hereby apologise for all our past transgressions.

So anyway, yeah, this:

WEST COAST
i detect your pose
all the way from here

EAST COAST
trve

I rest my case.

You are cordially invited to the ceremonial ribbon cutting of the brand-new, 230 acre IllCon East campus, featuring an exclusive Evoken and Cannibal Corpse showcase*, and we will vote on IllCon East's new charter. I hereby lay down the gauntlet, West Coast pussies. The metal world is overdue for a good beef with all the trimmings, don't you think? Infantile posturing in album intros, threats of violence via YouTube, all that. How great would that be? Minus the assassinations, Varg.

FUCK YOU, WEST COAST.

*not verified