Monday, March 30, 2015

How to Be A Guitarist on the Internet who's not an Asshole: Part 1 of 7

This is you from the future, should you decide not to heed my warning.
It's March. This is important for two reasons. For one, as an Irish-American who lives in New England, nothing makes me check out harder than the way local mongoloids celebrate St. Patrick's Day. You're fucking Polish. Change out of that leprechaun shit and go home before you vomit green vodka shots all over your ugly face. I hope you flip your car.

Secondly, it's tax season. I got married late last year, so this year's cashwad was substantially larger for me than the last. (Thanks Obama, etc.) Seeing as how I'm a giant man baby who can't do anything responsible with a large sum of money, I decided to embark on the quest for a new ax at my local Guitar Center. Guitar Center, of course, being like the Grand Manbaby Congregation.

I knew from the get go that I wanted something way up there on the quality scale -- but only because I could afford it. Not because I have a playing ability worthy of a proper instrument. I don't. A walrus could shred more accurately with his giant dumb ass flippers than I ever could with my chubby, stiff paws at my highest concentration level. And I'm not even talking about some majestic wild beast of a walrus out in his natural arctic environment vying for dominance amongst his herd. I'm talking about some sickly, depressed, piece of shit Walrus who mucks about all alone in a dirty pool at Sea World in a pile of his own fish-laden filth. That's me. I am the shittier Walrus. 

Goo goo g'joob.

So why did I want to make this sudden leap to an expensive guitar? Because I need to practice. A lot. I wanted something that would guilt me into practicing. Something that would catch my eye every time I walked past it in my apartment. Something of such premium quality, that I couldn't cop out by blaming my piss-poor playing on a piss-poor instrument. What proceeded was weeks of tireless research before my tax refund would arrive. I watched countless YouTube videos, read gear reviews, compared prices, and worst of all, lurked on forums.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

I am a Lead Singer, and Live Only for the Thrill of Combat

Rivers shall run red with the blood of hecklers this night.

The fuck you say to me?!  The fuck you just say?! Ok guys, stop playing stop playing.

WHOA WHOA WHOA Stop playing.

Stop. Stop.
GUYS GUYS GUYS. Guys. Stop playing. Okay. Stop. Okay. Stop playing. Jimmy, k stop.

Look, I know that the rest of you are professionals. And actually musicians. But your integrity as entertainers doesn’t even compare to the critical importance of me acknowledging this one person in all of the crowd, who has expressed an opinion of our music out loud that is something other than blind positivity within my ear shot. So stop playing for a second, alright? Thank you. This is truly worth halting our entire performance, of that much I can guarantee. I also reasonably expect you guys to back me up on this.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014


But does it thall?

So have you clowns been getting into this new fake metal craze "DJENT" all the buzzcut blue jeaners are talking about on the MySpace or whatever? I figured you were the best people to ask, since you're all such a bunch of fucking poseurs.

Djent is the latest craze hitting the nu metal scene. And by latest craze, I know I actually mean craze of probably 2009. Don't give me this shit about staying current or being way behind you iPhone tapping frauds. The only reason I'm even using this fucking internet crap is because Pagan Altar released a new album back in 2004 and I had to go Google how to steal it. I kept using the internet since, because I liked how easy it was to make fun of people on it for listening to over-produced flatulence like this:

BJOW BJOW. BYOW WOYW. Give me that guitar so I can teach you how to play your fucking self-respect back. Or just break it on your face. I have some wood you can chug on.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Random Things I'll Negatively Review Instead of Super Collider

Everybody's a critic

When Megadeth -- thrash titans of Big Three fame -- released their fourteenth studio album, Super Collider, the internet couldn't band together to hate it fast enough. After gaining themselves some barely listenable momentum with End Game and Th1rt3en, expectations were particularly "high" for Megadeth's next big release. Unfortunately, those hopes were soundly dashed when the band started releasing singles from the album back in late April. These two songs, Super Collider and Kingmaker, accurately set the rest of the album up as the inevitable dad rock dump that it totally was.

People were quick to voice their disappointment, and upon hearing Super Collider myself, I confirmed that they had every right to. This wasn't a very good album. This wasn't even an okay album. Outside of some very occasional high notes, this was a pretty bad album. It's not really the end of the world like some critics are making it out to be; it had some decent guitar work, and some stylistic throwbacks to a younger Megadeth, but the compliments end there. Super Collider, like several of the band's studio endeavors before it, shall be tossed callously into my mental bin of other underwhelming, shitty Megadeth albums. There, Super Collider will lay forgotten with the likes of Youthanasia, Cryptic Writings, Risk, The World Needs a Hero... The System has Failed... ... United Abominations... ... most of the songs off of Countdown...

Wait, tell me how we all got so fucking disappointed again?