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Dude Movies: Crank 2: High Voltage November 4, 2009

Posted by madkevin in Dude Movies, Man Crushes, Movies, hard in the pants.
4 comments

Crank 2: High Voltage

P216/0300

What’s it about?
In the best sequel idea since Chow Yun Fat played his own previously unmentioned twin brother in A Better Tomorrow II, Jason “Chev Chelios” Statham wakes up on an operating table (after having survived a fall that would have liquefied any non-Statham) to find his heart being replaced with a big-ass battery.* Hey, we’ve all been there, right?

Any chicks in the movie?
Amy Smart returns as his girlfriend, and the deeply unpleasant Bai Ling shows up as the World’s Most Irritating Prostitute. How Bai Ling gets work in movies is beyond me. She’s got a body that looks like somebody stapled her head on top of a rubber novelty chicken.

Awesomeness Factor?
Stratospheric. Crank 2 is like the Platonic ideal of an action movie, profoundly unconcerned with the pedestrian narrative concerns that plague other sadder, lesser movies that don’t have the balls to be Crank 2**. It’s a movie that is more than willing – eager, you might say – to cut away from a scene to show you a ferret’s ball-sack or the massive man-shaft of a thoroughbred racehorse for no real reason. It’s a movie that gets real-life Bible-thumpin’ moron Corey “I’m Still Alive?” Haim to not only play a mulleted loser pimp but then has Amy Smart beat the ever-living shit out of him for laughs. Technically, it has the elements of what would constitute a normal motion picture, like a plot and characters, but then tosses them away so that Chev Chelios can jack himself with a power grid transformer or shoot up a strip club full of people who had the extreme misfortune of not being Jason Statham. Meanwhile the insane perverts behind the camera throw enough avant-garde film treatments and camera trickery at you to fuel a thousand student film festivals, unable to focus their attention on anything for longer than a few seconds without trying to either blow it up, fuck it, or both. If DVD rental places had any balls at all, they would replace all the Criterion Collection discs with burned copies of Crank 2 instead and, when you opened the case, Statham’s fist would jump through time and space and punch you in the face.

Mitigated by?
The only mitigating factor is that maybe Crank 2 didn’t make enough money for there to be a Crank 3, but I refuse to live in a universe where there is no Crank 3. My guess for the next one: He’s just, like, on fire all the time. TRADEMARKED!

* In this incredible ability to resurrect himself  Statham is like Jesus, if Jesus wasn’t such a fucking pussy.

** Like, I don’t know, Schindler’s List. That movie would have been like twenty seconds long if Statham was Liam Neeson.

HELLO? IS THIS THING ON??? October 29, 2009

Posted by madkevin in Uncategorized.
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Wow, so I haven’t posted since August, huh? Nutty.

So recently a few people have come told me that I should post on my blog more. To them I say: How much does it cost to read this? What’s that? Zero point zero dollars? THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT.

But seriously: I blame a few things for my lack of blogitude. The first: games. You non-geeks don’t know this, but we’re in the midst of awesome game season. I can barely keep up with the crazy awesomeness spewing out of my Xbox. I mean, the only reason I’m not playing Borderlands RIGHT NOW is because… actually, I’m not entirely sure why I’m not playing Borderlands. I wonder if I can slip Shorty a mickey and get in a few hours…

The second: Twitter and, to a lesser extent, Facebook and Google Reader. A lot of the impetus to share things that I find on the internet, or that seemingly unstoppable desire I have to spew out weird, pointless things to an invisible readership, is pretty nicely served by Tweets and the like. (You can get me at themadkevin@twitter.com, or under my real name on Facebook.) So that leaves the blog for longer-form writing which, ever since the quiet demise of the GenXine, I’ve found harder to make time for.*

But my former GenXine editor A. might be starting up another movie-related blog soon, so perhaps it’s time to dust off the writing chops. God knows I’ve watched enough Dude Movies in the past few months. (Oh, Wolverine: Origins. Why do you make it so hard for me to love you?) So, no promises, but perhaps I’ll try to crank out some more reviews on a more regular basis.

The third: NEW MUSIC TOYS. I recently bought myself a really nice Vox practice amp and a goofy multi-effects unit, which does a whole lot of crazy stuff without doing anything really well. Except MAKE A SHIT-TON OF NOISE. Which, really, is all I care about.

So, as a little Hallowe’en treat for all y’all, here’s a little something I’ve been working on. It occurred to me that my music sounds like it should be a movie soundtrack, so this one was a conscious effort to make something that would fit into a John Carpenter movie. Please to enjoy, and I’ll talk to you kids soon:

WIZARD PLOW!

* I have a weird thing where I find it easier to write if I know it’s going to show up in print somewhere. Writing solely for the web seems ephemeral and weightless, but even if it’s just for a zine that’s destined to end up in local hipsters bathrooms, I find it’s more of a reward knowing my writing eventually will show up on a bunch of dead trees stapled together.

Dude Movies: Outlander May 24, 2009

Posted by madkevin in Dude Movies, ODIN!!!!!!, Uncategorized.
3 comments

Outlander

What’s it about?outlander

Monster hunter from space crash-lands next to a Viking village in 700AD, accidentally releasing said monster to munch on the unsuspecting sons of Odin.

Any chicks in the movie?
Sophia Myles (dependable as always as the semi-hot British chick in a genre movie) as Viking king John Hurt’s spunky daughter. You can tell she’s spunky because she has red hair. It’s a total giveaway. Alas, no nudity, because when you’re fighting a hellbeast from Arcturus, who has time for nooky?

Awesomeness Factor?
There are two types of people in this world. The majority of people, who belong in the first group, wouldn’t give a movie about Vikings fighting aliens a second glance on their way to rent whatever insipid romantic comedy starring a non-naked Jennifer Aniston got released this week. You know – normal fucking people. The second group, whom we refer to as Dudes*, would stop dead at the sight of this DVD cover while their brain desperately tried to make sense of a universe that only chose now, some hundred years after the invention of cinema, to make a ALIEN VERSUS VIKING PICTURE. With such a solid gold concept, Outlander would have to be an epic failure of Uwe Boll proportions for me to dislike it. But luckily, Odin smiled upon Outlander and gave it his bloody blessing: sure, you won’t convince your wife or asshole art-snob friends to watch this anytime soon, but this is actually a hell of a lot better than it has any right to be. Sure, the Vikings have about as much historical authenticty as a fat-ass drunken LARPer has to Orlando Bloom, but nobody gives a shit about actual Vikings. I want to see the Vikings of my mind who, not coincidentally, look exactly like bald, bearded, face-tattoed Ron Perleman, swinging war hammers the size of small dogs and screaming things like “I WILL TEAR YOUR BLEEDING HEART FROM YOUR BODY!!!” Still, when you have an alien vs. Vikings movie, the Vikings are only half the equation. But again, Outlander comes through with a fabulous monster, which appears to be what would happen if a chimera hatefucked a Balrog. They even manage to (SPOILER!) set the thing on fire, which is like fifteen kinds of awesome right fucking there. Amazingly, the sci-fi elements of the story are equally strong, looking like what I assume the guys who made The Chronicles Of Riddick were aiming for but didn’t quite reach. Outlander isn’t a smart movie, exactly – but it is as smart as it needs to be. Which, when it comes to all things Dude Movie, is just enough.

Mitigated by?
I eagerly await the inevitable fan-edit that tosses the Howard Shore knock-off score for bitchin’ battle metal.

* Something I’ve been meaning to explain about Dude Movies – the term “dudes” neither respects or implies gender. To be a Dude, and by extension a lover of movies aimed at Dudes, you don’t actually have to be swinging pipe. Rather, Dudeness is a state of mind, one that is encapsulated almost entirely by the abstract concept of a movie like Outlander. Here lies the essence of Dudeosity: you looked at that poster, and the very first thing you asked yourself was “How is Vin Diesel not in this movie?”

Dude Movies: Phantom Of The Paradise April 26, 2009

Posted by madkevin in Dude Movies, Uncategorized.
2 comments

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What’s it about?
De Palma’s glam-rock rewrite of Phantom Of The Opera, with bug-eyed De Palma stalwart William Finley as the titular Phantom and malignant dwarf Paul Williams as rock record mogul and Paradise club owner Swan.

Any chicks in the movie?
Cutie-patootie Jessica Harper, who in the 70s never met a cult movie role she didn’t like. Here she’s an aspiring singer-songwriter in the Carly Simon mode named Phoenix who wins the coveted role in the Paradise’s production of Faust by exhibiting all the dancing skills and pure rawk charisma of a freshly beheaded chicken.*

Awesomeness Factor?
Harper’s limb-flapping aside, Phantom Of The Paradise is one hell of a movie. De Palma freestyles his way through a mash-up of  Phantom Of The Opera, The Hunchback Of Notre Dame, Faust and a little dash of The Portrait Of Dorian Grey for good measure while his director’s id conjures up references** to Hitchcock, German expressionism, glam rock, Orson Welles, Grand Guignol, doo wop, and anything else he can think of to throw at the screen. (My favourite part is when the script calls for a bomb to be planted in a prop car on-stage in an attempt to assassinate Swan’s nostalgia act The Juicy Fruits, De Palma decides to shoot it as a direct homage*** to the opening tracking shot of Touch Of Evil, except split screen.) Musically, the score is no great shakes, although it’s better when it’s hilariously pastiching the nostalgia craze of the 70s or bad Beach Boys surf than it is with the glam and rock stuff.  But what really cranks Phantom from a mere De Palma curio to balls-out awesomeness is the wildly entertaining casting. Paul Williams sinks his tiny, childlike teeth into the role of a lifetime as Swan, although it should be noted for the faint of heart that you get to see Williams work his semi-nude mojo on Jessica Harper, which is a little bit like watching shaved Ewok porn.**** And cult stalwart Gerrit Graham damn near steals the movie as the flamboyantly homosexual glam-rock sensation Beef, who Graham plays so hilairously broadly I kept expecting Paul Lynde to wander on-screen to ask him to “Tone it down, sunshine.”

Mitigated By?
If there’s one thing that abominable Repo: The Genetic Opera has shown us is that they literally don’t make movies like Phantom anymore. The other thing it teaches us is that most people shouldn’t try.

* I was hoping to find a YouTube cut of Phoenix’s audition, but all I could find was the trailer. You can catch a glimpse of Harper’s – well, I guess we’ll have to call it “dancing” in that she is flailing her limbs whilst music plays – at about the 45 second mark:

** OK, rip-offs.

*** Ibid.

**** OK, it’s a LOT like watching shaved Ewok porn.

The Video Game Nostalgia Project Continues April 21, 2009

Posted by peet in Uncategorized.
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I apologize for the lengthy delay after only 1 week of this. I put the project on hiatus while I built this:
Big fucking box

That’s  an outdated picture of it, the paint job looks slightly less terrible now.

Expect a 1984/1985 combined summary later this week. In the meantime, play Robot Dinosaurs that Shoot Beams When They Roar. It may just be the greatest game of all time.

Dude Movies: Highlander April 15, 2009

Posted by madkevin in Dude Movies, chop socky.
1 comment so far

highlander-queen

Highlander

What’s it about?
The charisma-free Christopher Lambert, here playing the World’s Gayest Scotsman, is shocked to discover he’s an immortal being destined to fight other immortals in something called “The Game”. See, The Game happens during the end of time called The Gathering, during which the immortals left on earth will try to behead each other because they are compelled to by The Quickening*, and the last one left standing – you know, with the head still on – will get The Prize. Still doesn’t explain his accent, though.

Any chicks in the movie?
One of the perks of being an immortal is you get lots of time to work on your mojo, so Mr. Mopey Live-Forever Stupid Face get to sheath the ol’ claymore in a couple of comely lasses throughout the ages. His Middle Ages chick keeps the sheepskins on, but the modern-era forensic scientist with the inexpicably deep knowledge of ancient swords - if you know what I mean** - indulges in some blink-and-you’ll-miss-it nudity during the shockingly boring sex scene.

Awesomeness Factor?
Two beheadings out of five. I know Highlander has some weird cult following, but all I really remembered from the movie when I saw it back in the theatre originally was that Lambert, a Frenchman, plays a Scottish highlander while Sean Connery, an actual Scotsman, plays an Egyptian dressed for some reason like a Spaniard. Oh, and there’s some Queen songs. Seeing as the most basic and most sacred rule of Dude Movies is “Never watch anything with Christopher Lambert or Queen in it”, Highlander would seem by definition be the worst movie ever made because it has both, and sometimes at the same time. And yet, this movie has garnered a pretty big cult following, and quite frankly the first ten minutes or so*** had me convinced I misremebered Highlander as being worse than it actually was. But then, right at the ten minute and one second mark, those stupid but admittedly entertaining manic pop thrills pretty much get shot to hell. The weird non-chronological narrative mish-mash of barbarian fantasy and MTV-style action produces a tone as incoherent as the plot – so, why exactly are these guys fighting again? Director Russell Mulchahy’s idiot-savant ability to frame any given shot or transition well lives only to be sabotaged by his ham-fisted failure to string them together in any meaningful or entertaining way. And then there’s Christopher Lambert. Lambert is literally the worst screen actor in history who isn’t either a) an animal, b) retarded or c) a retarded animal. Seriously. What should be moments of pure badassery are transmuted by the Shitty Acting Transitive Property into 100% cheeseball gaywaditude, as Lambert lisps  ”Zere can bee own-lee whon” before shooting a quick pout at the camera. Dude, you’re not a Highlander. You’re Derek Zoolander.

Mitigated By?
If you have to watch Highlander because, I don’t know, you lost a bet or something, watch it for Clancy Brown, the leather-clad bad guy called The Krugan who’s supposed to be the most dangerous swordsman in history and yet somehow fails to kill Lambert like twelve times. Especially weird considering he kills Connery by basically knocking a fucking castle down on him.

* Duh.

** I mean swords.

*** Which go like this: Queen song. Titles.80s style wrestling match. Lambert is chased from the stadium, into the parking garage. SWORDFIGHT! Overhead fluroscent lights flicker like strobes because it’s 1986! HOLY SHIT LAMBERT JUST CUT THAT DUDE’S HEAD OFF! AND NOW ALL THE CARS WINDOWS ARE EXPLODING FOR NO REASON!!! Hey, my beer’s cashed.

The Video Game Nostalgia Project: 1983 March 18, 2009

Posted by peet in Nostalgia, video game nostalgia project, video games.
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Okay, so the original plan was to go through the years in interview form with Kevin. We tried this for 1983 and the end-result was (not surprisingly) the kind of thing that would only be enjoyed by me and Kevin. So here is the best bit:

me: There’s this great thing with early video games that use (legitimately or otherwise) popular music in the background that often feels totally out of place.Going through 1983’s selection of Arcade games, I found a few completely mindblowing examples.Noah’s Ark, which is a shit game that has you fetching pairs of animals and dragging them slowly to the Ark (which is a big brown rectangle) plays “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” during the title sequence.Kevin: You’re kidding.Did you actually play Noah’s Ark?me: Yeah. Every few seconds a unicorn briefly flashes on the screen. I wasn’t able to catch it though, I assume that you can’t. This would seem to indicate that Noah’s failure at retrieving them is the reason that there are no unicorns anymore.Kevin: Really? Because what that tells me is that it’s YOUR fault there aren’t any more unicorns. You slow-fingered bastard.me: Dude, that unicorn was always on the opposite side of the screen. I don’t think I was supposed to catch it.

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(I drew the big red arrow to point out the unicorn. Also: it’s more like Noah’s Shack)

The most important lesson that I learned last week was this: Blaster is fucking awesome. It’s pointless to try and describe it, I’ll just show you.Image and video hosting by TinyPic

Image and video hosting by TinyPic

Image and video hosting by TinyPic

Image and video hosting by TinyPic

Image and video hosting by TinyPic

Image and video hosting by TinyPic

Sloth vs. The Record, Part VIII February 14, 2009

Posted by madkevin in Uncategorized.
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Yet another letter going into The Record soon. This one is a general response to the idiotic bleating of the religious right over the atheist bus signs:

I find it hilarious, if not surprising, to read the utterly expected responses from The Record’s religious readership to the atheist bus signs currently riding around London, England.

How many religious signs are there in Waterloo Region, do you think? Dozens? Hundreds? Maybe even thousands? How many times have I been asked by signs to repent, to change my ways, to worship, to fear the fires of a fictional Hell, or to plead for the succor of a fictional Heaven?

Why the double standard? If you are OK with those, then why is it so wrong for an atheist group to do exactly the same thing?

I remember reading somewhere, something about removing the beam from your own eye before you pluck out the mote of dust from somebody else’s. I wonder where I read that.

In non-I’m-going-to-Hell-news, the latest ish of the GenXine is out with some old Dude Movie reviews. Go grab a copy at Gen X. I COMMAND IT.

Dude Movies: Death Race December 29, 2008

Posted by madkevin in Dude Movies, Man Crushes, Uncategorized.
1 comment so far

deathrace

Death Race

What’s it about?
Wrongfully-jailed maniac Jason Statham is forced to compete in the Death Race, which is what you would get if The Road Warrior and Quake II made an angry, gun-encrusted car baby. 

Any chicks in the movie?
A seriously slumming Joan Allen as the stern prison warden, and Natalie Martinez as Statham’s navigator. All the Death Racers have hot chick navigators because I assume the producers realized at the last minute that no movie’s hottest chick should ever be Joan Allen. 

Awesomeness Factor?
I was really prepared to get my hate-on for Death Race, which is ostensibly based on the gonzo 1975 Roger Corman classic Death Race 2000. It’s actually a sort-of prequel, setting up the titular race o’ death as a bloodsport reality show. The star of the show is a dude named Frankenstein* who races behind a mask, but secretly there’s been a whole bunch of dudes playing Frankenstein because they keep dying, what with the guns and explosions and traps and the walls made of spikes and all.*** So to the surprise of no-one, everydude Statham becomes the next Frankenstein, blowing eighteen kinds of shit out of his bad-ass competition whilst he plans his escape from prison with the help of Ian “Cocksucker” McShane (clearly having a great time) and the hot navigator. That’s about it. You don’t watch a movie called Death Race for the plot. What you do watch it for is lots of crazy driving, shooting, and shooting while driving, and on that not-terribly-ambitious level Death Race succeeds admirably. This is the kind of movie that, like the original, would have been greatly improved by watching it at a drive-in, ideally in a car with twin mounted machine-guns instead of headlights. 

Mitigated By?
The director’s name is Paul W.S. Anderson – not Wes Anderson, who made Rushmore, or Paul Thomas Anderson, who made Magnolia. This is the one that made Event Horizon and Alien Vs. Predator. Although I like to think that somebody, somewhere rented this movie because they really loved Bottle Rocket.

* Which makes no sense. The guy’s called Frankenstein because the mask makes him look like a monster, but the monster wasn’t named Frankestein. Frankenstein was the dude what made the monster. This message was brought to you by the Pedantic Blog Writers Union of North America.**

** Slogan: “That apostrophe doesn’t go there.”

*** It’s not called Happy Soft Pillow Race, right?

Best Records Of 2008 December 25, 2008

Posted by madkevin in Music, Uncategorized.
2 comments

records

I didn’t listen to as much newer music as usual this year. For one thing, I didn’t hear too many new bands that really grabbed me, although this might be a problem of age more than quality. Take critical darlings Fleet Foxes, who are currently topping most hipster top tens. They were on Conan the other night and I thought I’d check them out because I’ve heard nothing but good things about them. Yeah, um… they’re soft rock. Like Bread, or America, or the wimpier end of the CSNY catalog soft rock. Male four-part harmonies with acoustic guitars – in other words, boooooooooring. I don’t know, maybe it sounds awesome after a night of clubbing or something, but I lived through shitty seventies AM music once, and I don’t need to do it again. But I guess the fetuses who work for Pitchfork don’t have nightmares about hearing “A Horse With No Name” on the radio for the five millionth time.

The other reason I didn’t listen to much new music is that this was the year of ridiculous reissues: the entire Ace Of Hearts era Mission Of Burma catalog, the entire Factory era New Order catalog, the entire Replacements catalog, R.E.M.’s Murmur, the first two Fripp & Eno collaborations… that’s a shitload of music, right there. More to the point, that music forms a lot of my fondest music memories – New Order and the ‘Mats were the soundtrack to much of high school, and I can’t listen to Mission Of Burma without remembering early university, when I was first introduced to them. It’s hard to believe that I first came to this town to start university twenty years ago. Damn.

And OF COURSE special mention to the mighty Ace Kinkaid (aka my bros-in-law) for finally releasing a record worthy of their prodigious talents. It’s my understanding that the physical CD is in short supply, but you can check it out over the magic of the interwebs

Anyway, given all that some stuff did still manage to permeate my consciousness. Mostly the louder stuff. Go figure. In no order:

Cult of Luna – Eternal Kingdom Swedish (I think) avant-garde metal band who kinda-sorta are the godfathers of the ambient metal scene that encompasses bands like Isis and Pelican, Cult Of Luna specialise in a dark, textured metal with a strong emphasis on band dynamics. This one comes with a great story: they moved their rehersal/studio into a space that used to be an old mental institution – LIKE ANY SELF-RESPECTING METAL BAND WOULD – and found a diary left behind from one of the inmates who was imprisoned for drowning his wife. The diary details a Henry Darger-esque fantasy world called The Eternal Kingdom, populated with wild creatures who were presumably the ones he believed responsible for the drowning. So, you know, it’s a family record.

Gojira – The Way Of All Flesh  OUTSTANDING French metal act, who get massive bonus points for naming themselves after Godzilla’s Japanese name. They truck in a pretty technical death-metal vibe (think Meshuggah with better hooks), but instead of the usual Satanic or demonic tropes they sing songs about saving whales and the environment and ecosystems and shit. Seriously. Oh, France – even your death metal has to be fruity. 

M83 – Saturdays=Youth  I was on the fence with the previous M83 stuff I heard, which is basically this heavy-duty maximalist style shoegaze but done with analog synths instead of guitars. Neat idea, but it was something I liked as opposed to loved. On Saturdays=Youth, they take the basic M83 template and then mutate it in the service of a phenomenal 80s pop pastiche that stops just short of slavish imitation. I never knew how much I missed guitars with chorus pedals until I listened to “Graveyard Girl”, which I did somewhat obsessively. Also: Best cover of the year. 

Grails – Doomsdayer’s Holiday  Crazy hash-soaked drone/experimental/general weirdo outfit from America, who cranked out two records this year. This was the second, and it’s a keeper – an album that sounds like the soundtrack to a particularly strong peyote trip in the middle of a blasted desert, except the desert is like your mind, man. It should have been called There’s No Such Thing As Too Much Reverb. Recommended for people, like me, that think Pink Floyd went to shit after Echoes

Austrian Death Machine – TOTAL BRUTAL  Big shout-out to R. from GenX for turning me onto this. It’s a side-project from one of the dudes from As I Lay Dying – pummeling thrash metal sung by Arnold Schwartzenegger (OK, not really, but the guy does a pretty good imitation) with lyrics and titles lifted directly from the Arnie Canon: “Get To The Choppa!”, “Here Is Subzero, Now Plain Zero”, “I Am A Cybernetic Organism, Living Tissue Over (Metal) Endoskeleton” and, of course, “Screw You Benny!” Essential.

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!  I can’t remember the last itme I liked a Nick Cave record all the way through. Let Love In, maybe. Lately, Nick had been in piano-crooner mode and I had sort of tuned out, because I like the crazy Nick way better than the quiet Nick. Last year’s Grinderman album hinted that crazy Nick was coming back, and this album makes good on that promise. Kicking things off with a tale told from the point of view of Lazarus – yeah, that Lazarus – who is apparently immortal and living in New York, Nick takes us on a crawl through the sleazier parts of his id, fueled by multi-instrumentalist Warren Ellis’ unholy racket. Nicest surprise of the year. 

Boris – Smile (Japanese version)   My love for Boris continues unabated. Smile finds Boris still in full-on freak out mode, and still capable of busting out a fifteen brain-melting minutes of the loudest doom this side of Vahalla, but now with some added textures that until now were non-Borisy – machined drum beats, the occasional synth, and general noise terror. They released two versions of this album, and sadly the one we got in North America, while still good, plays it too safe. (It’s also marred by a weirdly thin production that makes it sound like a late MC5 album, instead of the mighty rock juggernaut of Pink.) The Japanese version, done by a completely different producer, is way better: harsher, more experiemental, and just plain weirder. Which is the reason you listen to Boris in the first place. 

Amon Amarth – Twlight Of The Thunder Gods  Reader of Sloth are probably sick of me talking about Amon Amarth, so suffice it to say this album would KICK THE TEETH IN of anything else on this list and then LAUGH ABOUT IT. If Metallica is metal, then this is, like, adamantium or mythril or some other fantasy substance so hard you could use it to saw through James Hetfield’s dick

Bison B.C. – Quiet Earth   Another nice surprise, this band came out of nowhere for me this year and punched me on the face with a chunky fist of rock. I guess they used to be a fairly well-known Vancouver band called S.T.R.E.E.T.S., but have since shed the thrash for a more stoner rock/metal groove. AND I HEARTILY APPROVE. This is a band that is all about the riffage, and as such the songs are hilarious compediums of massive riff after massive riff, as if the band is daring themselves to rock out harder every five seconds or so. Every now and then they scream something about wendigos. Needless to say, I love it. 

Farflung – A Wound In Eternity  Another one I’ve talked about on Sloth, so check yourself lest you wreck yourself

Honourable mentions: B-52s, Bob Mould, The Melvins, Toner Low, Santogold, The Cure (no, really, it’s not a bad album), Steinski, Brian Eno & David Byrne.