Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Is Jeff Fisher running for office? Will he please share his Jedi Mind Tricks?

In the wake of the Titans latest baffling home field debacle, wherein they blew a game to the Denver Broncos, Kyle Orton unloaded on the tough-guy Titans telling The Tennessean that:
“You always hear about how tough they are and all that stuff,’’ Orton said. “I don’t think they are tough. I think they are cheap, and it was one of the cheapest games that I’ve ever seen out of some of those players."

Hell yeah, Kyle.  That quote is up there with old-school Steeler Lee Flowers calling the Tony Dungy era Bucs "paper champions" after the Steelers kicked the living hell out of them one weekend years back.

Thankfully it didn't stop there as Bronco's coach Josh McDaniels went there on the GREAT Jeff Fisher saying to the Denver Post (emphasis mine):
"You can put any tape you want to of Tennessee and there's going to be 10 penalties. You either coach it or you allow it to happen. That's how I look at that."

Never thought I'd ever write the following sentence, but: Josh McDaniels is awesome!
The GREAT, CLASSY (I found out today that this is the new permanently attached, never demonstrated, Jeff Fisher characteristic) Jeff Fisher responded with a sort of stunned, placid anti-grace (I couldn't decide if the comatose style he used stemmed from the shock of McDaniels and Orton actually calling his cheesy ass out or if he'd actually just the watched tapes of Vince Young and his offense) saying (emphasis mine):
"We play aggressive — we don't play cheap," Titans coach Jeff Fisher said. "If there are things after the whistle or during the play, players are fined for them. But we're not a cheap football team. I don't know what he's referring to."

Fisher is saying this after a game where his Defensive Coordinator Chuck Cecil got fined $40,000 for shooting the referees the finger; surely something a cheap football team would never do.  He's saying this amidst the fact that as of Sunday's game the Titans lead the NFL in personal fouls with six for 88 yards and roughing-the-passer penalties with two for 29 yards, not to mention total fines assessed with over $47,000 and counting this season.  Fisher is saying this two weeks after the Titans Cortland Finnegan openly admitted his ambition to be known as "the dirtiest player in the league."  Those are all things Josh McDaniels could have been referring to.   Mike Florio of PFT reported on Monday morning that:
"A backlash quietly is building in league circles against the Titans, who entered the weekend with the most personal foul/unnecessary roughness penalties in the league -- and who led all teams with fines in the amount of $47,500...Some league insiders believe the time has come for Fisher to take control of the situation.  Said one high-level source with another team, "We have to sit and listen to Fisher pontificate at league meetings every year, and his guys are as dirty as anyone."

So McDaniels and Orton deserve serious credit for saying brashly and publicly what more and more people around the league are starting to realize: that the Titans are cheap and it has to start reflecting on the GREAT, CLASSY Jeff Fisher.  It should also be noted that Haynesworth played for the Titans when he stepped on Andre Gurode's face.  Obviously Fisher didn't do the actual deed, but it is worth mentioning and considering in regards to the larger questions stemming from McDaniels' comment/observation that 'you either coach it or allow it to happen" on your watch.  It's hilarious seeing the dude do a full-on politico and lie with a straight-face, though, insisting that black is actually white and "we are not a cheap team" blah blah...yet
Today I watched Trent Dilfer nearly jump out of his seat on NFL Live defending the honor of the CLASSY Jeff Fisher.  I thought he was going to smack Josh McDaniels in the face with a glove ala Bugs Bunny and challenge him to a duel in defense of Fisher's honor.  Michael Wilbon, whom I love and almost always agree with, pulled the "Fisher is the most respected coach in the league" card.  I thought Bill Plaschke was going to cry on Around the Horn when he addressed McDaniels goshdarn intransigence.  And so on...
The force is strong in the one formerly of the cheesy moustache and utterly mediocre track record

Monday, September 27, 2010

MFL III.

1. I don't wish injuries on dudes, but I made an exception last night when Braylon Edwards did his precious little dance after scoring when the cornerback covering him slipped and fell down.  I was hoping a torn hammy, or a blown ACL on Braylon as he danced (I would have taken the 15 and trucked him if I was one of the Dolphins).  I don't think in the annals of sports I've ever started to hate a team, coach and players as hard and fast as I now hate the Jets.  Edwards, fresh off a DUI that most likely would have put the majority of the fans watching the game in jail, isn't even smart enough to act humble that the Jets abjectly hid behind the CBA and feared losing to the Dolphins so much that they didn't bench his sorry-ass.  Look, I'm no angel and I sure as hell would have broken a breathalyzer or two in my life had I been driving at the time, but I didn't make that decision and, more importantly, I don't play for the National Football League where, right or wrong, everything you do is in the glare of the public-eye.  I didn't realize this initially, but Braylon Edwards was in the car with Donte Stallworth when he drunkenly ran-over a pedestrian; if you can't get the message and shake off your sense of privilege being witness to that unnecessary tragedy, you never will. Then the Jets had the nerve to act like benching him for the WHOLE first quarter was some sort-of brutal, harsh measure of retribution that sure learned Braylon his lesson.  This dude, his "New York essence" and his whack fucking twinkle toe touchdown dance are the most aggravating thing in the league at the moment, that is, until Santonio takes his job in 2 weeks and Edwards fades back into on-field irrelevance.

2. The Chiefs.
I watched Manchester United play the Kansas City Wizards at the new Arrowhead Stadium in July.  It was an amazing atmosphere!  The stadium was packed and the electric crowd spurred on the Wizards who beat Man U's traveling summer squad.  Even though it was an exhibition, it definitely made an impression on me.  Arrowhead used to be one of the most intimidating, unforgiving stadiums and homefield advantage auras in the NFL before the Chiefs recent plunge into hard times.  It looks like that homefield advantage is becoming a factor again this season as Todd Haley's young, fast, surprisingly sturdy defensive-minded Chiefs squad hammered the hapless critical darling 49ers there yesterday afternoon.  Coming off an excellent draft, wherein they added Eric Berry to an already impressive defensive backfield and the blazingly fast and versatile wildcard Dexter McCluster who can run back kicks and/or line-up as receiver or running back, the Chiefs look ready to contend in a weak, baffling AFC West.  You could see a few glimpses of this young team's potential last year, and the power of the Arrowhead mystique, when the Chiefs took the Cowboys and Steelers to overtime at home last season.  The Cowboys survived, but the Steelers didn't and their playoff hopes were dealt a fatal blow.  I'm always glad to see a franchise with history and tradition do well.  It just makes the league seem better, in my opinion.  Now I'm just waiting for the Raiders and Bills to re-emerge.

more soon (including metal and wrestling) honestly

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

MFL (Part II. in a series)

Let's get right into it.


#1. Fisher narrative gets a jolt thanks to the brutality of the Steelers Defense
I'm going to take a tiny bit of credit for this one. Blame it on the overwhelming wedding mojo (mine, not his) of the past week's post.  But seriously, the Steelers Defense is playing at an outrageous level and they deserve the bulk of the credit for re-opening the 'Jeff Fisher is GREAT' debate. James Harrison looks better and more "whiskey bent and hellbound," as Big Dus would say, than he did 2 seasons ago when he won Defensive Player of the Year honors enroute to the Steelers 6th Super Bowl title.
It's hard to pile anymore accolades on top of Troy Polamalu and his Godlike hair and penchant for insanely athletic interceptions-precisely when they're needed most. I also want to single out Lawrence Timmons, who is beginning the breakout season Steelers beat reporters predicted he was going to have last year before he got hurt at the end of training camp and never quite got back on-track. These men absolutely annihilated the Tennessee Titans on Sunday. Vince Young actually said after the game that the Dick Lebeau's defense "did some things that I haven't seen before."
A quick aside: The Steelers have played the Titans 3 times in the past 3 seasons, and before that resided in the same division for awhile, so shouldn't the GREAT Jeff Fisher have been able to get Young reasonably prepared for what he might see from the Steelers defense; I mean they've only been playing the 3-4 for a good 20 years or so.
James Harrison, Hines Ward and others noted that Chris Johnson seemed to "give up" after the pummeling he took every time he touched the ball started to sink in.  These same comments could haven been uttered after the Patriots game last season when they gave up, then too, in the snow. This horrendous beatdown prompted the 'GREAT' Jeff Fisher to panic and pull Vince Young for the ancient Kerry Collins, who promptly came in and threw an interception. This move made many normally sympathetic commentators, from Deion Sanders (who couldn't hide his disgust and contempt for Fisher on the NFL Network) to Fisher's ESPN PR agent Skip Bayless, go ballistic. Deion essentially said that "Young had saved Fisher's job at least once" and Bayless, fresh off his "Fisher is one of the best coaches in the league" non-sense of one short week ago, actually looked into the camera yesterday morning and said that on Sunday evening he thought that Fisher should be "fired" for pulling such a panic move and ruining the ever-fragile Young's psyche.
So thank you Steelers Defense, for not only adding the icing on top of an incredible weekend with an inspiring win, but for re-opening, at least for the time being, the case on the 'GREAT' Jeff Fisher and proving, once again, upon further review, there is really not much evidence in support of it.

#2.  I hate Ray Lewis again.
His interviews this season have been great so-far, but I'm back to hating him and every player on the overrated Ravens.

#3.  I love Randy Moss

 Always have.  The dude is the most graceful and athletic receiver in the history of the league, in my opinion.  The way he uses his body to get in position and grab jump balls in the end-zone reminds me of a strong power forward/center in the NBA.  It's amazing to watch.  His catch against the Jets on Sunday was a work of art.  I got so tired of hearing about 'Revis Island' that I wanted to Moss to make a statement against him in their one-on-one match-up on Sunday, which he did even though the Patriots lost.  Revis is building a great career, but Moss is a surefire Hall-of-Famer, who forged his reputation and legacy over the past decade-plus.  He's established in ways that Revis won't be for years, and, in-fact, may never be.  Moss also had the sickest beard in NFL history, in addition to adding the excellent phrase "straight-cash, homey" to our sports lexicon.  I don't think I've ever heard a West Virginia accent as thick as his.  Apparently, according to an SI profile, back from when he was still with the Raiders, he's a germ freak.  I've seen at least 2 NFL Films clips of him warming up to T.I. on the sidelines...all of these things made me the like the dude even more.  Cheers!  I hope the Pats let you go next year so you can end your career in Western Pa.
Bonus:
This commercial was freakin' awesome!

Sunday, September 12, 2010

MFL (part 1. in a series)

I had a friend named Steve Martin. Even though he wasn't that guy, we used to call him The Jerk sometimes just for fun anyway.
He used to refer to the National Football League as the MFL.  Everybody on Madden was a "Ma' Fuck" in those days (we were too lazy to even finish our curses), so we re-named the NFL accordingly.
I'm going to steal that title for my super important, smart-assed take on things happening around the MFL.
Sort of like Jim Rome, but good and in English.

Before I start let me just say that, without question, tomorrow is one of the best days of the year.  Willie D started referring to opening Sunday as "Christmas" a years back and I had to smile yesterday when I read Fred Taylor say the same thing.

Without further ado-

1. Why is Titans coach Jeff Fisher considered, unquestioningly, by reporters and ESPN types to be a "GREAT" coach? 
As I keep doing this I hope certain themes start to emerge and coalesce and one of those will be my attempt to discern why and how certain trains of thought- ie."Jeff Fisher is a genius and one of the GREAT coaches in the league today"-solidify into so-called "conventional wisdom" and thus never again examined or challenged.  I've been wondering this about Jeff Fisher and his porn star moustache for years, but this past week Skip Bayless pushed me over the edge.  Bayless was 'debating' Newsday's Bob Glauber on ESPN's First Take (yes, I actually watch that crap) and he picked the Titans to go to the Super Bowl, saying "Jeff Fisher, and I think you'll agree with me, is still one of the 2 or 3 best coaches in the league, is he not?" And Glauber, to his eternal credit, looked stunned and incredulous before replying "No, I don't agree with that at all," an exasperated crack in his voice.  Glauber is one of the lone voices in the wilderness on this issue, strangely immune to the shopworn 'Fisher is a GREAT coach' narrative. When New England pummeled Tennessee last year in the snow 59-0 and whispers started to surface regarding Fisher's job security, Mike Golic and others tripped over themselves to see who could sing his praises the loudest and scream about what a huge mistake it would be for the Titans to make such a move.  In that specific game, the Titans were so unprepared, so outcoached, and outclassed it was as embarrassing a loss as I've ever seen. It looked somebody told them they didn't really have to run their normal offense or actually make tackles in the snow.  Yet the pundits reacted, instinctively, like any questions about his job were ludicrous and out of bounds. What has this guy done that's so magical and spectacular?  Never has a coach gotten so much mileage out of a decade old Super Bowl LOSS.

Another Fisher dissenter is, strangely enough, ESPN's hapless Sal Paolantonio, who put Fisher in the "Overrated" section of his book The Paolantonio Report, which, by the way, is complete and utter shite (yes I payed real American currency for it, unfortunately).  Paolantonio actually looked at Fisher's won-loss record (now at 136 wins to 110 losses for a killer .553 winning%, and 5 wins to 6 losses in the playoffs) and found that it was stunningly mediocre, compared to his reputation, outright poor in the playoffs and, most tellingly, nearly identical to Dennis Green's (113 wins to 94 losses).  Yet despite having pretty much the same type of record and winning percentage, Dennis Green never managed to parlay that record into automatic, unquestioned status as a GREAT coach for some reason, and, of course, is no longer even in the league after his epic meltdown.
So again I ask why Fisher?  What has this guy achieved as a coach besides managing not to produce any overt beer commercial fodder and having an overly patient, slightly senile owner behind him
The Titans went 13-3 two seasons ago, earned homefield advantage throughout the playoffs and choked, miserably.  You could see, hear and feel it coming from miles away.  The Ravens went in to Tennessee and kicked their asses with relative ease.  Ray Lewis was knocking people's helmets off, while every time you looked up Albert Haynesworth was laying on, or getting helped from, the field.  It was the only time his name was ever called that day.  Incidentally, that's when I knew for sure somebody would make a huge, huge mistake giving that turd big money.  It's so sweet that it turned out to be the Redskins.  Good work, as always, Mr. Snyder!  Still, this abject playoff failure came and went with nary a word regarding the fact that the Ravens came into Tennessee with a rookie head-coach and quarterback and beat the tar out of the GREAT Jeff Fisher's squad.
The next season they started 0-6, bottoming out with the aforementioned debacle in New England.
This year people like Bayless and others are actually expecting things from the Titans, so maybe, finally, when they fail to live up to them people will start to question the validity of the "Fisher is GREAT" narrative. Maybe.


2.  Ray Lewis is exactly right and pretty awesome, at least until October 3rd
Ray Lewis fuckin' had enough of the Jets' bullshit and damn did he let them have it in awesome rant that was part promo (I was waiting for the camera to pull wide and reveal "Mean" Gene holding the mic), part Public Service Announcement on behalf all the non-Jet players in the league and the millions of fans not in New York/New Jersey that are sick to death of hearing a 9-7 squad talking shit and guaranteeing Super Bowls victories.  I never, ever thought I'd write this, but: "Thank You." You said what needed to be said and people will listen because you're a Hall of Famer with an actual championship ring  Never has a team that has accomplished so little, talked so damn much...it's to the point where you can't even ignore it anymore. Tom Brady said he "hated" the Jets a few weeks ago, but he stopped short of threatening dudes the way Lewis did.  So until the Ravens and Steelers tee it up on October 3rd, I'm on your side, Big Man and I hope you tear it up, Monday night.








Thursday, September 9, 2010

Ugly Things


I've been paying loose attention Linda McMahon's Senate Campaign.  Loose attention, because as the late, great Dr. Hunter S. Thompson once said, "politics is a rotten business and a habit worse than heroin."  Amen, Doc. I'm trying to kick the habit, but her candidacy is fascinating on many, many levels to me as an amateur news junkie and veteran wrestling fan.

McMahon is running largely on her business acumen as former WWE Chairman and no one can dispute the WWE's success, but as the bodies of former wrestlers, or 'talent' in the current corporate and campaign vernacular, continue to pile up she finds herself painted into a serious corner because you cannot constantly tout your success as chief executive of a company and then say it's out of bounds, or irrelevant, when said company's former employees turn up dead at an appalling and alarming rate.  These events have compelled journalists to start probing further into the often ugly scenes behind the curtains of the wrestling business and they're uncovering some unsettling stuff.

TPM has an excellent post/report up today titled "Does Linda McMahon Have a Dead Wrestler Problem?" that compiles all of the recent bad news/premature wrestling deaths/and subsequently clumsy, cold and costly McMahon campaign responses.  It's full of interesting stuff and I highly recommend reading it and all of the links embedded within it.
One of things that jumped off the page, to me, was a frightening must read article from the North-Central Connecticut Journal Inquirer involving the WWE's use of "Death Clauses."   The company inserts this clause into contracts to remove any liability they would incur in the case of serious injury and/or death.  According to the paper, the clause reads something like this:

“WRESTLER, on behalf of himself or his heirs, successors, assigned and personal representatives, hereby releases, waives, and discharges PROMOTER from all liability to WRESTLER and covenants not to sue PROMOTER for any and all loss or damage on account of injury to any person or property resulting in serious or permanent injury to WRESTLER or WRESTLER’s death, whether caused by the negligence of the PROMOTER, other wrestlers, or otherwise,”

If that weren't interesting enough, the Journal Inquirer reports that Linda McMahon personally signed the late Owen Hart's booking contract, which included a 'death clause.'  Owen fell hideously to his death during an ill-conceived stunt where he was supposed to be lowered into the ring from the rafters of the Kemper Arena in Kansas City.  In reaction to this revelation, the campaign pointed to the fact that they settled with Owen's family despite the clause, quoting from a deposition given by Vince McMahon during the ensuing trial where he states that:

“That means ultimately someone who puts on this show, someone is responsible in some way, whether it be legal or moral, and I felt responsibility,” 

But, Chris Benoit's father, Michael Benoit is quoted, in direct contravention of this specific attempt by the McMahon's at damage control, as saying:


“As I am sure you are aware, WWE matches are scripted, and Stephanie McMahon Levesque testified before a congressional committee back in late 2007 that all stunts — an example of that would be a chair shot to the head — must be pre-approved by Vince McMahon,” he said, referring to the candidate’s daughter and husband. “This type of scripted match, I believe, is the underlying cause of all the early deaths in this industry.

“This extreme behavior in a wrestling ring would never have been allowed under the rules of the wrestling and boxing commissions,” he added. “Linda McMahon claims one of her greatest accomplishments while working at WWE was getting their industry deregulated. They now operate with absolutely no oversight. History will show that the early death rate of wrestlers started shortly after the regulation was stopped."

Benoit's mention of the deregulation angle and aspect of the WWE's, at the time unprecedented, shift from the traditional kayfabe paradigm to the acknowledgment that wrestling was, indeed, scripted and their haste to re-label it "Sports Entertainment," and the supposition/theory that this maneuver was undertaken to free the company from regulation by state athletics commissions is something that was also touched on by Deadspin's awesome Masked Man in a recent column wherein he quotes the New York Times:
"In the '80s, the McMahons did a remarkable thing: They dispensed with the pretense of reality and admitted that wrestling was staged. The WWF started using the term "Sports Entertainment" to classify its peculiar endeavor. But lest you think this was a gesture of honesty or evolution, realize this had a very direct impact on the company's bottom line. As The New York Times put it recently, this move helped free the WWF from 'a thicket of regulations from various state athletic commissions, requiring things like physical exams of wrestlers weeks before they would appear, and the stationing of state-approved doctors ringside during matches.'"

I'd never looked at it in this manner.  I'd always just naively thought that they adopted the 'Sports Entertainment' label to appear more mainstream and marketable and to be able to appeal to a mass audience without being burdened with the stigma of the "rasslin'" label.  The deregulation aspect of this decison was something I hadn't considered, but now as I look back it makes perfect sense.  I actually remember old AWA matches where the ring announcers would reference, often by name, the state's presiding and sometimes present athletic commission official (especially when they were in Las Vegas's Showboat Sports Pavilion). Of course, the legendary Ric Flair/Lex Lugar title match which the Maryland athletic commission actually 'stopped' because of excessive bleeding comes to mind as well.  I'm sure that match was a work, but it was a work made possible by the existing framework of kayfabe and the importance the pretense of athletic commission oversight and the resultant veneer of legitimacy and plausibility that oversight provided said framework.

The other side of this is Mr. Benoit's argument that since there is no oversight "history will show that the early death rate of wrestlers started shortly after the regulation was stopped."  Does he have a point??
I think he does.  If you take a look back, premature wrestling deaths on this scale never riddled the territorial areas in the same manner.  And it's not like wrestlers had lighter schedules then.  Ric Flair has stated many times that in the early 80's he wrestled over 300 nights a year.  There were dangerous, albeit rare, matches back then as well, such as chain matches, even barbed-wire and scaffold matches. 
It's definitely something to think about and it's amazing that a political campaign for the United States Senate, no less, is what's bringing things like this to light.

Another, less serious, thing the TPM report brought to my attention is that Vince gave an interview to the Associated Press in early August where he laments the fact that all this criticism the WWE, and by extension Linda's campaign, is receiving fails to take into account the "soap opera elements" of the business and storylines.  As the Masked Man noted in his column, this response is a standard fallback for the McMahons when asked tough questions about the WWE.  But here is where it turns ridiculous and absurd, the interviewer asked Vince about the infamous necrophilia skit and Vince said:
"If you knew the story line behind it, what have you, you might even consider that black humor, you know, dark humor, which is what it was designed to be."

I'm a Vinny Mac fan, and I don't consider myself a prude, but this answer is complete and utter bullshit.  I did watch that angle and story-line unfold and it was the absolute nadir of a life-time of pro-wrestling fandom.  Period.  It was so bad we were actually stunned when it was over.  There was nothing funny, dark or otherwise, about it.  It was garbage, and, honestly, if Triple H loves the business as much Jim Ross and others endlessly state, he should have refused to participate in it.  In fact, when I first read that Linda was running for Senate I immediately remembered this skit and thought "She could be OK until someone digs that up." I'm not even sure how many of the opposition researchers working for her opponents and the political reporters covering this race realize that the star of the necrophilia skit is actually Linda McMahon's son-in-law.

I actually saw a clip earlier this year of some McMahon campaign function or other and Triple H was brought onstage briefly.  So, again, they cannot have it both ways.  You can't trade on someone's fame and then act like questions about the same person's, a family member at that, participation in a skit about necrophilia are out of context, or out of bounds.

McMahon is behind by an average of 10 points heading into the November election and would most likely just be an oddity/human interest story at this point, thanks to her wrestling connections, even with her considerable fortune behind her, if her opponent Connecticut Attorney General Richard Blumenthal hadn't misspoke about and/or outright fabricated details about his military service.

There is definitely a lot to think about in TPM's piece.

R.I.P. Luna Vachon.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Round and Round-Up

I can't believe it's been this long between posts.  It sure has been a busy/dreary summer.  It started when I tore up my ankle (literally) the day after I wrote that CODC post.  Then I got caught up in moving, yet again, applying for jobs, doing wedding crap etc.etc and all of a sudden it's September.  I was also doing a lot of blogging at my old job.  I've spent the last few weeks in Silver Spring (no that wasn't me yesterday, a few people have actually posed the question) reading books for Library Journal, writing cover letters, watching soccer matches and films at AFI Silver (particularly the Truffaut and Kurosawa Retrospectives).  It's been nice sleeping in, but it's starting to get nerve-wracking.

Last night I saw a D.C. United game in RFK Stadium and I can't stop thinking about it.  It was surreal and sort of creepy.  The stadium is crumbling to pieces as we speak and when we first sat down it was basically empty.  Sitting in a vast, empty stadium (literally less than 30 people were milling about at the time) was strange and the fact that it looked rusty, rickety and damn near condemned was messing with my mind.  I kept staring at the garish yellow, by age and design, ghost-ridden upper deck seats whose rows were punctuated by broken, removed chairs like a smoker's mouth with missing teeth.  I'm not trying to dis D.C. United or the MLS, but, holy shit man, just because the Redskins don't play there anymore doesn't mean you can forgo performing basic maintenance in a stadium you still invite people in to attend "professional" games at.  I can just see some D.C. United bigwig saying "The Redskins played here!!! Let's leave it like it is and not change a thing. It'll be gold, Jerry! Gold."  Wondering around the dilapidated building looking for beer vendors and unlocked bathrooms, I had one of those Shining experiences where I felt the psychic energy of the place and it wasn't always good.  Standing in one of the humid, claustrophobic bathrooms, I could just sense the arrests (how many Philly fans alone?), drunken brawls, broken noses, and ancient puddles of piss and cigarette butts from Sundays past.  It was unsettling.

As a lifelong football fan, I started thinking of all of the great NFC playoff games played there during the 80's and early 90's.  That was when the Redskins were actually still a proud, winning franchise with tradition and Hall-of-Famers like Russ Grimm and, one of my first football heroes, John Riggins.  So sitting there underneath a sunny sky revisiting those memories and that history helped balance the strange karma of the tumbling down, mostly empty stadium.
Another time machine aspect of the evening: the fans who did show up.
Not only did the architecture and layout of RFK bring to mind Three Rivers Stadium, but the D.C. United fans resurrected the Old-School (it's like the stadium demands nothing less) rowdy, beer throwing, cigarette smoking, high-decibel cursing inimical to the stadium experience of days gone by.  I was shocked when I saw a dude light a cigarette while actually talking to the security guard.  That shock vanished quickly as D.C. scored on a penalty early in the match and people started lighting colored smoke bombs and throwing their 10 dollar beers (I'm not exaggerating) at each other.  The security guards were chanting with and hugging the rowdy fans and a few times I got the half-exciting/half terrifying, Willard in Apocalypse Now type impression that no-one was truly in charge.
Our section did fill up, at least, and the D.C. supporters (probably 1,500-2,000 at this game all told) were like a raucous mutant gang, part Raiders "Black Hole" style intimidation, part pub chanting drum circle militia.  There was 'Darth Hooligan' a man with Darth Maul style face paint and a light-sabre.  There were people lugging floor toms that John Bonham might have played, banging away-as chants about shitting on the 6 (literally) Columbus Crew fans in the middle deck at other end of the stadium went on and on.  One dude behind me implored the refs to "SEND THAT PIECE OF SHIT #32 THE FUCK HOME" at volumes that would have made Pete Townsend cry.  It was a fun atmosphere
manufactured by a small, but in no way insignificant, band of fanatics.

As far as wrestling goes, I'm not interested in the WWE right now at all.  From what I've seen, the NXT angle is like the NWO angle, minus the charisma of Hall and Nash, for youngsters who missed it the first time around.  I think Wade Barrett can be a star eventually beyond this angle and Tarver is interesting, at least visually, with that mask.  That's it.
I've been reading about Linda Mac's Senate campaign and their clumsy response (she pulled the "I only met him once" card) to the, unfortunate death of Lance Cade and I'm going to post more on that soon.
I watched TNA a few times recently and at least that Best of 5 series between the Motor City Machine Guns and Beer Money Inc. provided some excellent in-ring action.  All of the matches I saw were great, but my favorite was definitely the cage match.  Great chemistry between these 4 dudes, for sure.
I saw Ric Flair give an absolutely unhinged, instant classic promo on Jay Lethal that made me laugh, cry and chop my wife at the same time.
Here's most of it (there is a great line missing about his robe from that last  Wrestlemania being in the Smithsonian, which, incidentally, my girl hates being reminded of because she refuses to believe I'm not the only person in the world always marking out for the Dirtiest Player in the Game)


Metal-
I've just been listening to Electric Wizard, particularly Let Us Prey, alot.
The first song on U Chosen Few...I can probably write a whole post just on that.  For now I'll just say that they are one of the only bands that can truly mix metal and psychedelia.  The breakdown at the end of "U Chosen Few" is brain-crushing psychedelia with vocals that are mixed like insinuations, barely cracking the subconscious, but Jus's voice is there faintly burning on a pyre of discarded Sabbath riffs and queasy

More soon (for real)

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Pgh. Grind Terrorists Return!!


Circle of Dead Children.
The name itself caused anxiety, panic and pained expressions in my household before I even told my wife I proudly participated in, and survived, the foam baseball bat "murder your neighbors" incident, years ago, on our drive to Virginia Beach last week.
CODC played a show at the legendary, now defunct, Pittsburgh venue the Millvale Industrial Theater wherein they set up their gear, in a circle, in the middle of the room and let people whirl and windmill all around them while they unleashed their short, shrapnel bursts of deathgrind insanity.  I can't remember if it was the show they played with A.C. or with Cephalic Carnage.  This was definitely in 2001 around when The Genocide Machine came out.  At any rate just when I thought their set that night couldn't get any better or sicker in the funnest, devil-horns sense of that term, they produced a box full of foam wiffleball bats.  Joe Horvath, CODC's vocalist, distributed the bats and then instructed us all to "murder our neighbors."  The band erupted, then the room.  I'll never forget the site of writhing, frenzied mass of human beings swirling, swinging and pummeling each other at will while the band detonated and spewed out the perfect soundtrack to a brilliantly cathartic, blunt-force foamy bloodletting.  A.C. should have just went home early (but then I would have been denied the spectacle of Seth Putnam calling Shannon: "8,000th wave punk rock").

The new album, five years in the making, Psalm of the Grand Destroyer is more brutal than that scene in Pan's Labyrinth when the general bashes that poor dude's face in with a wine bottle. It's so heavy I can't lift my iPod anymore.  The production is just as clear and powerful as it should be without sacrificing any edge or rawness.  The drumming is great and I love the weirdly, chaotic way these songs are arranged.  But, of course, the vocals are what keep me coming back to this devastating album.
Insanely deep, creepy growls that switch to burly burning witch shrieks and back again, always at the perfect pressure point in the song.  I'm not even a huge fan of death metal style vocals, but there is something so pure, pissed-off and terrifying in Joe's vocals.
The man sounds like a swarm of locusts.  Serious.
You know your shit is so sick and so insanely over the top when you have to put disclaimers on your record that say: "No vocal processing nor inhales" (ala Chris Barnes on Tomb of the Mutilated) so people understand there is no electronic trickery involved.
But unlike Barnes, Horvath's lyrics are abstract, interesting and paranoically thought provoking on the page.  To give you a tiny hint of where he's coming from they are copy-written by "Pale Horse, Inc." (RIP Mr. Cooper).
Favorite tracks on Psalm of the Grand Destroyer:
Ursa Major (1998 Revisited)
Earth and Lye
Obsidian Flakes

The whole album is good.  Just don't play it around your elderly colleagues after you've drank a few espressos.
I'm so glad CODC is back!

More soon:
I do still watch wrestling sometimes.
Also...Is it possible that the new Darkthrone, in conjunction with RJD's passing, has earnestly made me want to listen to Power Metal??

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Darkthrone-Circle the Wagons: a tribute



Darkthrone is probably my favorite metal band in this day and age.  I'm a huge fan of all eras of their sound but this new Motorhead, Voivod and Poison Idea worshipping, split songwriting incarnation of the band is just plain killer.  I didn't quite know what to expect from Circle the Wagons after I read Fenriz interviews wherein he played up a thrash influence on the new songs.  An outsize thrash influence is actually one of the only things I don't overtly hear on this awesomely addictive album as all Fenriz's liner note and interview references to Dio, Mercyful Fate, Metal Church, Trouble, Fates Warning, Necrophagia, Amebix and Adrenalin O.D.start sonically spewing out in these anthemic songs, along with the now standard ingredients of Motorhead and Celtic Frost, coalescing into the flesh and bones of an unstoppable heavy metal Frankenstein.
Circle the Wagons contains epic, varied songs that remind me of why I love metal and why I started this blog in the first place.  Beginning with The Cult is Alive the mad geniuses in Darkthrone have seemingly located some sort of sensory time machine that regurgitates and replicates that magical time in the late 80's when I used to take the 61A into Swissvale to the Record Hut to buy Celtic Frost and Destruction tapes.  Insanely great songs like "These Treasures Will Never Befall You" uncannily, effortlessly conjure that spirit of wide-eyed amazement I felt the first time "Dethroned Emperor" pillaged my speakers on Franklin Street, while somehow retaining their own unique energy and intensity.

Sitting here gleefully drowning in Oskar Blues Mama's Little Yells Pils night after night straight-up jealous that  Fenriz's song "I am the Working Class" is the EXACT pun kroc song I tried and failed to write numerous times.  Bravo, dude, with your snotty metallic Post Office punk that would make Henry Chinaski proud.
Upside-down Claws and spilled beer involuntarily happen when "Circle the Wagons" unfurls it's badass clean vocal chorus that makes me wake my neighbors up with belligerently loud, spiritedly out of tune sing-alongs and severe volume nudges during the ripping solo at the end.  There is something so strange, yet so indisputably great, about Fenriz's use of clean vocals on "These Treasures..." and "Circle the Wagons."

Then there's Nocturno Culto's songs.  The doomy breakdown in "Running for Borders" is like getting pummeled by a bag full of brass knuckles while Nocturno rapturously extolls the virtues of a wisdom that's "ANCIENT in its purest form" over brutal, grinding riffs.  "Black Mountain Totem" features a glorious riff that contains echoes of Sabbath's "Tomorrow's Dream."   According to Fenriz, the queasy, wobbly vocal approach Nocturno employs on the creeping mid-tempo "Stylized Corpse" is inspired by Killjoy's work on the first Necrophagia album.  I think it works just fine.


I have to admit I love how personally so many Black Metal True Believers on message boards and in magazines take Darkthrone's regression and the contemptuous way some of them spit out 'insults' like "PunkThrone" as if that's an epithet of the absolute highest caliber.
I was lucky enough to grow up loving punk in addition to metal so this evolution (or de-evolution) of their sound is fucking A-OK in my book.  Blasting your copy of Feel the Darkness almost as frequently as your copy of Killing Technology or Don't Break the Oath can only lead to the alchemical sonic greatness found on albums like Circle the Wagons.  I wish more bands would follow suit.

As if I needed another reason to respect Fenriz, the man is a walking encyclopedia of hard rock and metal who is constantly spreading the gospel of the underground in interviews, liner notes, his band of the week blog on Darkthrone's Myspace page and his downloadable mixtapes on Vice.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Ronnie James Dio

May he rest in peace
There's nothing like driving 300 miles by yourself with a brutal hangover only to find out that a musical legend who helped define the sound and iconography of the music you love has passed away.
More importantly than his huge voice and incredible legacy, according to all accounts he was a genuinely solid and kind human being and we just can't afford to lose many more of those.

Some celebratory memories:
1. The fates work in strange ways.  I was putting together a mix CD for the drive I mentioned earlier, and the live version of "Children of the Sea" just jumped off the screen and onto the playlist even though the majority of the other tunes were non-metal (Joe Walsh, Dead Kennedys).   I'll admit that I was an Ozzy era-purist for the longest time as far as Sabbath is concerned.  Even though "Mob Rules" was carefully spray painted in areas where the older kids drank (a subliminal clue), and eventually my friends and I too.  I didn't give the Dio stuff a proper chance until 2005 when I bought a copy of Mob Rules at the world-renowned Jerry's Records and spent the rest of that summer drinking wine on my porch on Forward Avenue with it as the soundtrack.  "The Sign of the Southern Cross" is one of the best Sabbath jams from any era.  It's majesty made even more stark by the grinding title track right afterwards; a killer one-two punch.  It took a little longer for Heaven and Hell to sink in, but once it did...I haven't really stopped playing that stuff since.  But Dio made an impression on me way, way earlier than that with "The Last in Line" video.  A whole post could be written about the video and its interesting story and monumental production values.  The song blew my adolescent mind so much that I was moved to buy the first of many dubbed tapes from my friend Mark's fledgling tape dubbing enterprise.  I'll never forget this thing...he painstakingly drew and then colored the ornate Dio logo on the cover.  Mark's deal was 2 albums on a 90 minute cassette for 3 dollars.  He even had lists!  My first selection was Dio's The Last in Line with Motley's Shout at the Devil on the flipside.
Man, do I wish I still had that thing!  I can see that logo plain as day in my mind.  The point of this is even though I stubbornly overlooked RJD's work with Sabbath for far too long, I freakin' loved Holy Diver and The Last in Line.   I tuned out around Sacred Heart, because I was starting to get into heavier stuff at the time.

2. Even in his late 60's the man still had an astonishing ability to sing his songs at such an incredibly high level.  I was fortunate enough to see Heaven and Hell, with Judas Priest and Motorhead in 2008, and I was just stunned at how great Dio sounded and how commanding and sincere his stage presence was.  You could tell he cared about his songs and his fans and that those concerns wouldn't allow him to give a half-assed, phoned-in performance like many of his contemporaries.
And it's not like his vocals are easy to pull off.  They had to be so demanding for a man his age after so many years on the road and in the studio, yet there he was nailing "The Sign of the Southern Cross."
Look, when I see pictures or video of the Rolling Stones these days I seriously get fucking embarrassed.
The guys in Heaven and Hell are nearly as old, but still capable of crushing and inspired performances.  We raved about how great Tony Iommi played and how great RJD's vocals were at the show for weeks, man.   Also, The Devil You Know is a decent album (it gets bogged down in the middle).  The riffs are killer, Dio sounded great.  This band still could go, which is one reason his passing is so sad.

3. I picked up Rainbow Rising last summer after years of recommendations and I haven't been able to get into it just yet.  I don't think that's RJD's fault, though, as Ritchie Blackmore's playing and songwriting gets a little too overwrought for my ears sometimes (sorry Dave!)  Again it's a testament to Dio's legacy and longevity that there are eras of his career still to be discovered and celebrated even by a long-term fan such as myself.
You will be missed.


More soon....including thoughts on the very strange, very cool new Darkthrone album.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

"I notice that most of you suck at appreciating Never Say Die!"

 cover by HipGnosis

My niece Ryann Marie was born in the afternoon on Monday, April 26th!  April 26th is an important day to my family and her being born on that particular date was pretty damn special.  Ryann and her mom are healthy and happy; so my mind has been happily focused on things other than wrestling, metal and Scorsese flicks for the past week or so.
This past Thursday was National Poem in Your Pocket Day and I spent the afternoon handing out free poems to people downtown.  It was awesome!  Most people were pretty stoked to get a poem, and some even told me it made their day.  As a fan of poetry, it was great to see so many people still excited and moved by it.
Alie went to Pennsylvania, yesterday, to spend time with her family and left me all alone last night with my beer, records and DVDs.
I go to this record store a lot to buy vinyl and, they do something really dangerous and yet cool: they email their dedicated vinyl costumers whenever they obtain large, new collections.  They even add descriptions like "this batch is heavy on 70's weirdness, free jazz, rare blues."  I love it.
Amongst my recent finds was a $3 copy of Black Sabbath's Never Say Die!  What a strange record!
I used to shun this album, even though the original Sabbath line-up is, and always will be, one of my all-time favorite bands.  Man, was I stubborn and clueless.  In fact, the title of this post comes from the old Relapse board where an exasperated poster finally lashed out at everyone in one of those threads where people are ranking their favorite Sabbath albums (a staple of metal message boards) and either ranking Never Say Die! behind records like Headless Cross or leaving it out completely.  I was firmly in the 'leave it out completely' crowd.  He was right, I was wrong.  The line has always stuck with me, though.  This record definitely has more going on within it than its predecessor, Technical Ecstasy.  The title track is a like last gasp.  Like a twitch from a dead body, or one last desperate haymaker from an over-matched boxer with wobbly legs.  Making it even weirder is the strained sense of optimism in the lyrics and delivery.  Ozzy had already been fired once, he sounds tired, yet here he is with a neon bright hook/warcry about not surrendering.  Sabbath aren't really known for hooks, but "Never Say Die" is definitely one exception.  "A Hard Road" also has a nice, deliriously hefty hook.
"Johnny Blade" is one of my favorite and most underrated Sabbath songs.  The creepy organ at the beginning reminds me of some of the music in Tenebre, then it mutates into these strangely mechanical and relentless metallic grooves with washes of synth.  But what I really love are Ozzy's vocals.  Holy shit are they DRAMATIC!!! So emotionally over the top in the best possible way!  Songs like this are why I used to write "O-Z-Z-Y" on my fingers when I was a kid, and also why I go into "Old man yells at cloud" style fits of disappointed rage these days when I think about his stupid family, piece of shit MTV show and overall devolution into a cartoon with balls big enough to sue the people whose musical genius made him what he is (Geezer and Tony).
He wrings this awesome drama out of  his vocals on"Johnny Blade", particularly the choruses, because I believe that maybe John Michael Osbourne actually wrote these lyrics and they are, at least partially, autobiographical.  He knows it's nothing but a matter of time before he gets kicked out of Sabbath again and he acknowledges how lonely and scared he truly is by this eventuality.  I think he knew he would probably just drink himself to death and that's exactly what he was doing when Don Arden's daughter rescued him a year or so later.  That fear pours out through these vocals: WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO YOU JOHNNY BLADE??
Continuing on the personal theme, I read somewhere that the title of "Junior's Eyes" was inspired by something Ozzy's father says.  The jaggedly inspired psyche swoops, solos and flourishes on "Junior's Eyes" are played brilliantly yet so unlike most of Iommi's other work with Sabbath.
Despite some great moments from Ozzy, the true star of Never Say Die is, indeed, Tony Iommi. The weird thing about that is, I don't think this album contains one single legendary Iommi riff.  It might be the only Sabbath album that doesn't have at least one, but in the words of Marc S. Tucker writing for Perfect Sound Forever:
Iommi entered an unusual short period, shown best in "Johnny Blade," where he's a solo mini-group, playing highly engaged dubbed counterpoints alongside and above his own base, not only on guitar but keyboards as well.

Tucker also mentions what he terms Iommi's "distinctly unorthodox compositional skill" and his "understanding of esoteric levels of play."
I agree wholeheartedly.  It is hard to put in words how strangely constructed this album and these songs truly are. "Distinctly unorthodox" is about the best we can do.

Even the great Lester Bangs had trouble writing about Sabbath to his usual level of brilliance, even though he loved them.  I don't feel as bad.  According to Jim Derogatis's excellent Let it Blurt, Lester used to put on Master of Reality and start drinking Labatt Blue until he passed out. Who hasn't?

After I played Never Say Die, I had the urge to listen to "The Wizard" so I started spinning the first album and I realized I'd come full circle.
As I always say: Sabbath will pull you through.

More on Sabbath soon.  I also watched a few old Undertaker matches that I wanted to comment on and I'll do that soon as well. 
I have to go handout Free Comic Books.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

The Bronx Bull: I am Jake



Every time I think I know what my next few posts are going to be something comes out of nowhere and takes over this most fickle and obsession prone mind.
I went to a screening of Raging Bull Monday night. I've seen this movie many times because I'm a huge, huge Scorsese mark, but the fire this time affected me differently. I focused on different things, saw different connections etc.
I usually just get lost in the stunning black and white, the phenomenal editing, De Niro's soul-scraping performance, but this time I really started to think about who Jake LaMotta was and why De Niro felt so connected to him. I know they became close after filming began because LaMotta worked closely with De Niro to choreograph the boxing scenes to ensure their authenticity and intensity; but even before that De Niro felt a strong bond with him.
There's a famous anecdote recounted by Peter Biskind in his classic slice of cinematic history Easy Riders, Raging Bulls, where Scorsese and De Niro are meeting with studio bigwigs and one finally expresses his exasperation and dismay with the ugly, bleak characterization of Jake LaMotta, the two were pitching, by referring to him as a "Cockroach."
After this epithet was uttered-
"A suffocating silence fell over the room like a blanket. De Niro, in jeans and bare feet, slumped in an easy chair, had said nothing. He roused himself, and said quietly but distinctly, 'He is not a cockroach...He is not a cockroach.'" Biskind p.390
On the surface, though, the movie they made makes it hard to disagree with the baffled exec.
I know through interviews that Scorsese didn't feel any connection to LaMotta until years of coke benders, coupled with severe asthma, almost cost him his life in 1978.
Biskind drives that point home, rather dramatically, while depicting De Niro's visit to a hospital bedridden Scorsese urging him to make Raging Bull once and for all:
"'Are we doing it or not?' Scorsese replied, 'Yes.' He had finally found the hook: the self-destructiveness, the wanton damage to the people around him, just for its own sake. He thought: I am Jake." Biskind p. 387
This angle of Scorsese's personal connection to La Motta was emphatically driven home Monday night.
The connection works on a few different levels. I remember reading a library book on Irish and Italian Filmmakers years back that had a great section on Scorsese that has always stuck with me. I think it's this one, but I can't be 100% sure....at any rate Scorsese tells the author how he remembers reading that St. Francis of Assisi said or wrote somewhere that animals were closer to God than human beings because they act purely on instinct (designed and bestowed upon them by god) with no consciousness to evaluate, restrain or interfere with their actions, thus according them a level of purity denied to human beings. I believe that this is something else Scorsese saw in La Motta: someone acting purely on instinct and basically unable to act any other way. The curious paradox here is that even though Scorsese seems to locate that pure animal instinct in LaMotta as an explanation (I'm not ready to say justification) of his actions, he pointedly has the character, at absolute rock bottom in a jail cell, insist that he is NOT an animal. An interesting contradiction, but these types of contradictions are what create the tension inherent in great characters. The other level of Scorsese's connection to Jake that works is in the idea of Jake taking these horrible beatings in the ring to act as penance for his sins and the damage he has caused. This has resonated with me because it connects with a core, purely Catholic, tenet of Scorsese's aesthetic best articulated by Charlie (the director's thinly disguised alter ego) in Mean Streets that: you don't do penance in church saying Hail Marys...that's not good, or real, enough...you do your penance in the streets, in the world by your actions. Jake (through Scorsese) seems to adhere to this belief just as strongly as Charlie, and his way of achieving real penance is absorbing punishment in the ring. To further reinforce these connections and themes reverberating throughout Scorsese's ouevre remember that one of Charlie's heroes is: St. Francis of Assisi. I found out through IMDB that being unsure of exactly how to shoot and edit the pivotal sequence of the "St. Valentine's Day Massacre" where Jake idly absorbs an unbelievably brutal beating from Sugar Ray Robinson, Scorsese obtained a shot list of the shower scene in Psycho and used that as a blueprint. The scene takes place right after Jake beats up his brother and wife, so the connection of it being Jake's penance is made pretty explicit, but for the first time I looked at it as Scorsese's own bloodletting, which might explain the extreme violence, yet also Jake's defiant, wobbly insistence to Ray that he never went down. This is, I believe, Scorsese's vicarious self-flagellation and penance. Precursors of this masochistic self-flagellation can be detected in Scorsese's "Big Shave" documentary, even though the underlying message of the film was political not personal. I also, for the first time, saw Scorsese as Jake in his dealings with Mob boss, Tommy Como. I equated Como with the studio system telling Jake that no matter how stubbornly he insists on doing things his way, he can't/won't achieve his potential without giving them what they want. Jake has to take a dive and the scene afterwards where he just cries abjectly into his managers shoulder has always been the most brutal scene in the movie.
As a filmmaker working within the system even during the so-called "era of the director" that Biskind writes about, Scorsese has to make humiliating commercial concessions etc. to get the chance to make the movies he really wants. Much like Jake having to take a dive against Billy Fox before getting a much-deserved title shot.
Scorsese says not to read too much into the use of the “I could've been a contender" speech from On the Waterfront for various reasons. But I have to wonder is that him lashing out at the studio system? Biskind contends that deep-down, and maybe overtly at times, Scorsese wanted success and acceptance on the level of Lucas/Spielberg. Or is he lashing out at himself. He has said many times that he legitimately thought Raging Bull would be his last film. Is this him reflecting on wasted, squandered potential?
A lot of new things to think about.
I still feel that the beauty of the photography is the ultimate paradox and the true key to this film's legacy and impact. The beauty lulls you into a sense of security that calms and disarms you so that the explosions of violence are that much more stark, surprising and sad.







Sunday, April 18, 2010

Gimme, Gimme some BIG dumb American RAWK vol.I


Been pawing through the bins at Plan 9 records the last few weeks, searching for underappreciated, underused examples of big ole', radio-shunned, lighters and smelly smoke-clouds, live drum solo having RAWK.
Midway through all this, while pondering a years in the making post making the case for Aerosmith as the second best American band of all time (behind the Ramones of course), I realized that all these other bands I've been checking out, recently, happen to be American as well.
This wasn't a pre-requisite or anything as I'm always searching for British stuff like Leafhound and all manners of weird, heaviness from all corners of the globe, it just happened that my recent finds and obsessions have originated here in the US and A.

I can't help but think of Dazed and Confused (number one priority of the summer: Aerosmith tickets!) when thinking of what it might have been like to catch some of these bands in their prime on a sweaty, Spring night.
One of the albums I've been listening to is Black Oak Arkansas's Raunch 'N Roll Live and I just get lost wondering, when it spins, about the sheer amount of sex and controlled substances that surely were exchanged before, during and after this show as authentic 70's sweat pours through Black Oak's triple guitar assault and out of my soggy speakers.
And I haven't even mentioned Jim Dandy yet!
His rap before "Hot Rod" should be enshrined in any sort of Hall of Fame way before Gene Simmons' wig and the team of producers, publicists, parasites and sycophants behind the product known as "Madonna."
Before Ozzy so heinously jumped the shark, I used to actually think it was a crime that anyone was in the Rock Hall of Fame before Sabbath. Now I'm just happy that Geezer, Tony and Bill got one fraction of the credit they so richly deserve for reshaping modern music infinitely for the better.
Back to Black Oak, I'd heard or read somewhere that 'Diamond' David Lee Roth modeled/stole his persona largely off of Jim Dandy. I can see that a little from a visual standpoint, but honestly when it comes to stealing from Mr. Dandy I detect way more theft and unpaid royalties emanating from, and owed by, Axl Rose.
Similarities between Black Oak and Guns n' Roses have been made explicit by sages as disparate as Chuck Eddy and Mike Prosser, but listening to jams like "Gigolo" and "Hot Rod" the connections really hit home.
There is a sort of primordial echo of the rickety, Marlboro and JD funk of "Mr. Brownstone" or "Rocket Queen" in the groove to "Gigolo." Although Chuck E. hears it more plainly in side 2's smokin' version of "Hot n' Nasty."
Tommy Aldridge lays down an almost subliminally solid, sometimes punishing foundation for all the washboard solos, preaching and fretboard firestorms.
The guitar playing on Raunch manages to strike a decent balance between flash and soul; something Slash was also usually able to achieve in his playing.
The mastermind behind one of my favorite bands in recent memory, Zeke's Blind Marky Felchtone, himself an Arkansas native and guitar dervish, is an unabashed Black Oak acolyte.
But there is a certain leering menace in the growl that Jim Dandy wielded like jester with a scythe and I definitely hear traces of it on Appetite for Destruction far more than on anything David Lee ever put his name to.
As an aside-
Let me just say that Axl Rose is the biggest sellout/poser that ever lived.
I'm not as embarrassed by my belief in the Easter Bunny, the existence of Kayfabe and all my relationship misadventures rolled into one as I am by being one of his marks in the early Appetite era.
I'm not even ashamed that I liked Bullet Boys...hell...those dudes jammed when I saw them at City Limits and their cover of "Hang on St. Christopher" is still decent.
Axl's the one I'd take back in a heartbeat.
All it took was one hit record for the Dolls/Ramones influences and bullshit Indiana street kid con to melt away into grand piano jerkoffs and Elton John pretensions involving cigarette holders, dolphins and mentally challenged supermodels.
VH-1 showed Metallica: Behind the Music last night and I started watching it again, and when James gets burned up by the pyro and Metallica couldn't finish their set in Montreal, Kirk says, referring to GNR, "they could have saved the day and been heroes by playing a blistering, triumphant 3 hour set." But, of course they didn't, though, because Rose threw some pre-meditated tantrum over his monitors and walked off the set leading to a swirling riot of pissed off canucks.
This part always kills me, and the disgust in Jason Newstead's voice when he talks about it says it all.
Newstead's pissed-off recognition/recounting of Rose's phoniness would make both Holden Caulfield and Paul Baloff proud.
Who needs rock stars?
At least it took Metallica a decade or so (depending on your perspective) to devolve into rich, out of touch assholes.
And even though I don't like their music anymore, their sonic evolution seems natural.

Damn, I meant to write about Black Oak more and then start talking about the James Gang and/or the second side of Rio Grande Mud...
More soon.
And wrestling

Monday, April 12, 2010

Who's Better...


I continue to be way behind the curve. In hindsight it seems silly and cold-blooded to celebrate/mourn the ending of HBK's career without even mentioning the actual death of Chris Klucsaritis; better known to wrestling fans as Mortis/Chris Kanyon, on April 2nd.
He apparently took his own life at the age of 40.
I usually feel strange writing "RIP" and things like that on blogs and message boards for people I don't know because in some ways it feels selfish or something...I didn't actually know the man and I obviously can't comprehend or claim in anyway the real grief his family and friends are feeling and that's one of the reasons I choose not to write anything when I first heard the news.
I didn't have much to add other than:
It's sad how many of these men die so young (even though this situation is different from most of the other deaths in recent years).
Kanyon the wrestler was extremely underrated and fun to watch.
Hardly ground-breaking opinions.

Reading his obituary was the first time I encountered the information that he was gay and had outed himself in 2006 at an Indy show.
It's covered in more detail in this excellent Deadspin column.
Even though, as the column alludes, there have been many whispers and rumors about high-level WWE officials being openly gay, this is the first time I can recall a famous wrestler openly coming out while they were still active.
The fact that he was largely out of the limelight when he did so really doesn't make much difference.
The Masked Man (author of the Deadspin piece and fellow Parts Unknown native) writes that:
"He appeared a couple of times on The Howard Stern Show, where they played up his homosexuality and the seeming incongruity of a gay man in the pro wrestling business."

This level of publicity led Kanyon to believe he had been blacklisted by the WWE (a damn-near monopolistic entity) and had essentially ended his career.
The Wrestling Observer obituary noted cryptically that he "didn't have the look the WWE wanted." On what information they based that assertion I can only guess, but I'll never forget listening to Mark Madden's radio show on ESPN 1250 in Pittsburgh the day Eddie Guerrero died.
Double M went on a tirade about how Vince McMahon and the WWE brass had a "physique fetish" and that this fetish was having a drastic, destructive impact on the lives and health of men like Eddie. Madden, a former WCW employee, had known Guerrero personally and was speaking with raw, spur of the moment emotion that afternoon, but his words had a ring of truth to them, in my opinion, and have stayed with me ever since.
At any rate the Observer obit mentioned that Kanyon had been struggling with bipolar disorder and I can only try to fathom the anxiety of being gay in such a macho environment and the stress such anxiety might have put on his mental equilibrium.
Add to that the fact that if the Observer is right, despite having considerable in-ring talent he was suddenly cast-aside because he didn't match the invisible metrics of some inexplicable, unmeasurable "look."
To their credit, according to Deadspin many of his peers said that had they known of his sexual orientation they wouldn't have cared.

But what's more interesting and what made me want to write about this is Deadspin's mention of the lawsuit Kanyon filed with Raven and Mike Sanders against the WWE in 2009 challenging the "independent contractor" status that all wrestlers in the company must perform under.
I had absolutely no idea a suit of this nature was filed so recently.
The Masked Man characterizes the "independent contractor" arrangement as "morally suspect."
Honestly, it's hard to disagree with that characterization and there really doesn't seem to be any need for it nowadays that the WWE basically controls the entire business. Before they could and did argue, as he notes, that they couldn't offer deals and concessions to performers that competitors weren't willing to make. That argument realistically died in the rubble of WCW years ago, and maybe even before that when the AWA folded.
I think unionization may have been at the core of the the attempted suit and that has been a ruinous topic for years in pro wrestling dressing rooms.
Jesse "the Body" Ventura said in an interview that he was leading a drive to unionize performers back in the 80's when he was informed on by Hulk Hogan, which led to one of Jesse's numerous fallings out with Vince.
The "contractor" status and issue was mulled over and discussed openly by all forms of media in the aftermath of the Chris Benoit tragedy.
But just like that the genie was stuffed back in the bottle.
As a fan I'm certainly complicit in this system.
It was brought to my attention when Eddie Guerrero died and then again during the Benoit situation, but, unfortunately, it didn't remain in my thoughts long.
I'm going to try and keep it there this time.
Besides the absolutely ludicrous fact that being a "contractor" by nature precludes the WWE from supplying health insurance, the Masked Man mentions other ridiculous things inherent in this arrangement like the fact that these dudes have to file taxes in every state they work in, etc.
It's insanity.

Kanyon and company's lawsuit was rejected due to the expiration of the statute of limitations. Presumably because none of the plaintiffs had worked for the WWE in years.

I highly recommend the Deadspin column I've linked to twice in this post. It's well-written, interesting and contains some video of Kanyon.

I sound like a broken record writing things like: how sad it is that it takes a man's death to make us look deeper into the dark corridors of this business called pro-wrestling that we love so much.
It's supposed to be about fun and escapism, but I really am going to try and not get carried to far away from the damage and havoc this business can wreak on the people who make it what it is.

Rest in Peace.
Chris Klucsaritis

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Eldrick Part II.

Haha...wow.
I never thought I'd ever mention him once, let alone twice. More reason to shed ESPN.
The commercial... since, even the news shoved it down my throat...
Are you kidding me? It makes that multi-million dollar, rarely shown Jerry Seinfeld/Bill Gates flop look like Raging Bull.

People of America please prove me wrong and recognize this ad for the shameless, ridiculous garbage that it truly is.

Dave Zirin positively unloaded:
"In the context of our enduring global fever-dream, a tacky ad in which Nike and Tiger conspire to exploit the memory of Earl Woods is hardly that big a deal--particularly since if Earl Woods were alive, he would have supported this exercise in grave robbing 100 percent.

he corrosively continues:
"But any joy at the discomfort of grown men with ten figure bank accounts named Hootie and Billy is outpaced by the sheer cultural rock bottom that this ad represents, not to mention what it says about Woods himself."

Yep.

I was already in a great mood, but any writing this hot, blue and righteous only makes the world a little more tolerable.

Cheers.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Thank you Shawn


This post is about 10 days late. I wasn't going to write about this, but after seeing Shawn Michaels ret
irement speech/video again the past few nights I decided to put down a few thoughts.
Besides being one of my favorite wrestlers ever, Shawn is the last of a dying breed.
He, along with the Undertaker, was one of the only remaining active wrestlers who had trained and performed back in the territorial era. Hulk Hogan and Ric Flair do not count, as calling them "active" is an insult to what Shawn and the Undertaker are still capable of most nights.
This insight (Shawn being the last link to the old days) is not specific to me. Many people wrote about it on wrestling websites and the excellent message board I post on that cannot be named.
It just seems that a certain level of storytelling and ring psychology might be lost forever when all links to the territorial era are severed.
Many veterans of that era, such as Ric Flair, have lamented the fact that the newfangled superstars are thrown directly into the mix of television and pay-per main events after only a year in the business before they're able to completely learn their craft; whereas in the old days you had to hone your craft and learn all aspects of the business inside and out over a period of years before you were considered ready for a prime-time push.
That period of development was crucial to developing elements of ring psychology and storytelling that could make someone with a work-ethic and talent truly great.
Shawn wrestled in Central States, Mid-South, World Class and the AWA during his development and I think the experience working with all the grizzled veterans in those territories contributed greatly to his understanding of how a match works; and perhaps more importantly how a well-worked match effects the audience emotionally.
The first really memorable Shawn Michaels moment came via his participation the feud between the Midnight Rockers and "Playboy" Buddy Rose and Doug Somers, and he says in an interview on From the Vault: Shawn Michaels that "Buddy Rose was the general of that entire situation."
Rose was a respected veteran with years in the business expected to teach these young guys how to work.
A similar quote was uttered by Marty Jannetty regarding the importance of working with a veteran like Tully Blanchard and the impact it had on his, and by extension Shawn's, development.
I can only hope that Shawn was able to effect people like Randy Orton in the same way when they worked together.

Development and dues-paying aside, Shawn Michaels possessed an undeniable athleticism.
I'd pick one of his many classics to show the ever boring "don't you know that stuffs fake?" crowd.
I notice that a lot of these "wrestling is fake...hehe" people seem to be Golf fans, and Eldrick Woods fans in particular.
And I'll just simply state: Shawn Michaels is more of an athlete than Woods or any golfer, no matter what you think about wrestling.
Locked-in results non-withstanding, it takes agility, stamina, and strength to perform at the level Michaels did for over 2 decades.
Phil Mickelson's pot belly says all you need to know about the level of conditioning, agility and stamina "pro" golf requires so spare me this garbage about Eldrick Woods being "the world's greatest athelete." He might the world's greatest game player, but he's no athlete.
Golf takes skill, no doubt, but so does surgery, yet I never hear doctors being referred to as athletes.
It might have been predetermined, but you absolutely have to acknowledge that Shawn was truly an athlete after watching the first Hell in the Cell match vs. the Undertaker, or the ladder match vs. Razor Ramon.

I largely sided with WCW and Nitro during the Monday Night Wars. I loved the NWO and the Cruiserweights and the WWE just seemed to be at a low ebb in the early phases of the battle.
Shawn singlehandedly shifted the tide back towards the WWE for me with his performance in the Hell in the Cell match in St. Louis vs. the Undertaker.
That match was flat-out incredible.
It still is the benchmark for those type of matches (my apologies to Mick Foley's brain, ribs and teeth).
My friends and I were buying WCW pay-per-views at that time and getting increasingly disgusted. This was the time when Piper and Hogan were fighting over who was the "true icon" and we'd just wasted our money on some embarrassing cage match they had to "settle" it, and just by some chance we decided to order WWE's "Badd Blood" to watch Shawn/Undertaker and I remember nothing but jaws dropping.
The quality of performance, athleticism and talent in this match was so vastly superior to what WCW was putting forth in their main events at that time.
I wasn't the only person who noticed, either. I'll never forget a sign I saw the next night on Nitro, it read simply:
Shawn is the REAL Icon

RAW got more and more time on Monday Nights all the way up until Shawn's back injury forced him into semi-retirement.

I found his retirement speech to be moving and sincere. It was brutally honest and when he said "I spent more of my adult life with you than my own family. And I don't say that with regret because I want to thank you for giving me the opportunity to come here night after night and show off for you", I couldn't help but be reminded of Randy "the Ram" Robinson's final realization at the end of The Wrestler: that the audience was his family, and that dying in front of them would be preferable to dying alone somewhere.

With all the sad endings and premature deaths that wrestling has wrought, it felt so great to see one of the all time best go out on top, healthy, happy and with a smiling family to go home to.

No one deserves it more than the Show-Stopper, the Main-Eventer, the Heart Break Kid.
Peace.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Tis' the Season


...for vinyl, vinyl, vinyl!
To some of my close friends vinyl is always in season and it has become that way for me too most of the time, but the onset of Spring and Sunshine really wears my needle down.
There are a few reasons for this:
1. My turntable is on a stand right near the door leading to our tiny back porch. Porch drinks are a necessity in my world and enjoying them without proper musical accompaniment is unthinkable and downright un-American.
2. The majority of my vinyl collection consists of hard rock, metal and jazz: all genres beautifully suited to a huge glass of whatever my latest beer geek fixation mandates at the moment (Yesterday it was Maudite and side 1 of Toys in the Attic for a lazy afternoon interlude).

But continuing on this seasonal theme, a larger transition has solidified in my listening patterns over the past few years and weather is definitely the predominant factor.
In the winter I listen, almost exclusively, to black metal, doom and noise. I don't have a lot of this type of stuff on vinyl, so I mostly resort to CDs and headphones.
But as soon as the weather breaks and Spring starts seeping in...It's definitely time to break out the Aerosmith, Van Halen, Grand Funk, Mountain, ZZ Top, etc.
Don't get me wrong: a great album or song is a great album or song and will get played any time of the year when the mood is right.
Zeppelin, Sabbath, Motorhead, Ramones, AC/DC and many others are never out of season in my household, much to my wife's chagrin.
Darkthrone also gets airplay year-round, long after winter loosens it grip here in the mountains of Parts Unknown.
It's just funny that Winter has solidified into being Black Metal season, while Spring is dedicated to the glories of hard rock and not-quite as Heavy Metal.

One of the other great things about used vinyl is you can take a chance on an obscure record or band for a few dollars. You win some, you lose some; but the losses are easier to absorb when they amount to only 3 or 4 dollars at a time.
I've been trying to dig up more obscure, lesser known hard rock records the past few years.
Spun Mountain Climbing! (which I scored randomly at my one and only trip to Used Kids Records in Columbus) on Friday and was really digging its general heaviness. Not that Mountain is super obscure or anything, but I know there are lesser known groups out there in the bins who purveyed a similar heaviness and vibe.
I can do without "Theme for an Imaginary Western" (even though I like the soundtracks for many real ones). That's the sort of dated 60's style song I'm glad is mostly extinct.
"Mississippi Queen" sure is bruising.
It's one song classic rock radio righteously beat into the ground (more on this phenomenon soon).
Of course, during the winter I must have seen at least 2 or 3 copies of Mountain's other records Nantucket Sleighride and Flowers of Evil in the bins, but now when I'm ready for them...they've vanished. I remember thinking at the time that these records would in no way be heavy enough to satisfy my Winter Ears. And even though I just extolled the virtues of cheapness inherent in buying vinyl, I didn't want to buy these records and have them sit around until May when I'd had enough of Merzbow and Leviathan.

Damn you maladjusted Seasonal Listening Disorder!

More on vinyl, classic rock and wrestling very soon.