FEED THE ANGER: Withered Squashed Any Hope I Had of Hearing Properly in My Left Ear (And Other Metal Musings)
Posted on April 21, 2009
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Words and Photo by Aaron Richter
I get bored easily. (You can probably relate.) Infatuations are fleeting. Fixations unglue. And obsessions come and go. I blame the Internet. Mostly. Or Twitter. As with so many interests throughout my life (pogs, drumming for Weezer, troll dolls), my new-found love for metal was in danger of wilting before it had truly blossomed. (Or should that be “blossomed before it truly wilted”?) It’s possible that I’ve simply been happier lately, more content. But watching the anger wash away, starved and defeated, was troublesome in a weird, masochistic-mindfuck sort of way that only heavy doses of Kylesa and a little Recession-derived anxiety could bring about. Which is also what brought me to Withered’s performance at Union Pool this past Thursday and the search for what I’ve taken to calling “metal phase, round two.” Read more
FEED THE ANGER: Crowd Control and Fan Photography at the Scion Rock Fest
Posted on March 4, 2009
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Photos by Aaron Richter
self-titled donned its best paparazzi cap this past Saturday and scoured Atlanta’s Scion Rock Fest for the event’s best fans. Keep your eye out for the finely bearded gent above. He makes another appearance during Mastodon’s set toward the end of this post. Though we’re pretty sure he lost his hat in the ruckus. And if you haven’t already, make sure to check out our event coverage and band shots. Or click through here for more awesomeness. Read more
FEED THE ANGER: Even More Deranged, Demented Photos From Atlanta’s Scion Rock Fest
Posted on March 3, 2009
Filed Under Feed The Anger, Media | 3 Comments
Photos by Aaron Richter
If these corpsepainted devil horns excite you, click through to see more photos from Atlanta’s Scion Rock Fest, and don’t miss our extended coverage. Read more
FEED THE ANGER: The Scion Rock Fest Superlatives
Posted on March 3, 2009
Filed Under Features, Feed The Anger | 6 Comments
Words and Color Photos by Aaron Richter / B&W Photos by Austin L. Ray
There was a moment this past Saturday in Atlanta, as I emerged from the crowd at the Scion Rock Fest, when I exhaustingly checked the time and realized there was still seven hours of metal to be had, seven more hours of deepening quick-mud, seven more hours of beard-watching, seven more hours of stage-hopping, seven more hours of my face, ears and brain being destroyed. And I got excited.
I’d entered the festival with reservations. Could they really pull it off? Would everyone really behave? Who would be left standing outside the gates once The Masquerade reached its capacity? Despite threats of rain, a steady flux of 4,000 fans filled the festival grounds (capacity 4,700), spread across four stages, one tent-covered outdoor behemoth and three of varying size inside the dilapidated Masquerade. Highlights included co-headliners Mastodon and Neurosis as well as Baroness, Wolves in the Throne Room, Boris and an unreal set by a fully corpsepainted 1349. Jumping from stage to stage, I caught 13 bands in less than 10 hours—eat that, Coachella!
Music aside, kudos to everyone involved for putting together one of the most chill, contained and well-organized music festivals I’ve ever attended. You proved that a massive rock event can occur (largely free of incident) without resorting to police-state tactics. The general pleasantness and courtesy of the fans was remarkable, not to mention an event staff that proved it could think for itself, assess situations, problem solve and alter protocol on the fly. But enough pussy gushing. Without further ado, here are the Scion Rock Fest Superlatives.
FEED THE ANGER: “Sorry, Honey. I Love Metal”
Posted on February 23, 2009
Filed Under Feed The Anger | 24 Comments
By Aaron Richter
Transforming from a bespectacled indie-rock dweeb into a burgeoning metal head isn’t easy. First, there’s the feeling of discouraging ignorance, that no matter what you’re listening to, now matter how fantastic it is, you simply like it because, well, it’s metal and you either heard or read somewhere that it’s supposed to be good. Maybe let’s call that a lack of discerning taste. This can be acquired easy enough. And with enough dedication you’ll be touting the merits of Dopethrone and impressing friends at parties with your sub-basic knowledge of Øystein Aarseth’s murder.
A much more difficult mountain to climb, so to speak, is the girlfriend. She can’t be ignored. Or disregarded. No, that won’t do. Because she’s hot and awesome. And no Matt Pike bellow or Mick Harris blast beat is worth losing the love of your life over. (Unless, of course, she sucks, in which case this article is probably not for you.) Any true metal obsession means that she’ll be forced to digest extreme music at least once a day, intentionally or not. And for the uninitiated, that’s a lot to bear. Thus, altering her tastes becomes a conquest of sorts, one in which you must triumph. Here are ten necessary steps to victory. Read more
FEED THE ANGER: Tombs @ Union Pool, 2.4.09
Posted on February 5, 2009
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Words and Photos by Aaron Richter
Whenever I catch a show at Union Pool, I can’t help but wish an unhinged musician would bash in a few of the lights that line the stage’s frame, like Paige or Townsend would have done. Glowing a faint, delicate, nearly-dead yellow, the bulbs are just begging to be crushed, and as the Brooklyn metal trio Tombs unleashed a hefty slug of darkness, I’m certain I glimpsed bassist Carson Daniel James smashing in a couple of those suckers. Badass!
Surrounded by a light but full, subdued crowd, I crouched in the front for a jaw-dropping vantage point and humped the lip of the stage as the band powered through songs such as “Gossamer” and “Golden Eyes.” On record, the tracks yield layered intricacies–probably why the group often gets tagged with My Bloody Valentine comparisons. But live, everything became much more direct and guttural. Rather than slipping beneath headphones to indulge whatever studio tinkery these guys have going on, you’re left to witness the raw trio: fast-picking Mike Hill howling with an earthy, worn bellow, Andrew Hernandez driving time with uncanny precision and James donning the role of stage intimidator. The show offered containment that never felt restrained or stifled. See more pics after the jump. Read more
FEED THE ANGER: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love S/T Boss Andrew Parks
Posted on February 4, 2009
Filed Under Feed The Anger | 1 Comment
What, me worry? Andrew at his best.
By Aaron Richter
In the interest of truth telling, up until about six weeks ago, I’d always worried about my boss, self-titled Editor-in-Chief Andrew Parks. Not worried that his fiery temper when dealing with the Bolivians might put both his and my life at risk (not an actual trait of Andrew’s). Or worried that his tendency to toss lamps out of apartment windows might one day injure a passing pedestrian (indeed an actual trait of Andrew’s). But simply worried about his taste in music. Sure, we share a similar permutation of indie-rock interests that stem from a general love of the Velvet Underground and My Bloody Valentine. And yeah, the first time we met was to see Comets on Fire rock the holy hell out of a Brooklyn rooftop. But Andrew had set aside a darkened corner of his heart for metal (or as my mom would call it, “You mean heavy metal?”). And I just didn’t get it. Read more
