I've arrived!

I got told I sucked yesterday. Some young chap took exception to my slightly derogatory review of the new Fleshwrought album, Dementia/Dyslexia and wrote on MetalasFuck's Facebook page that I suck.

I have to be honest, the pang of pride I felt was extraordinary. I've written something that has genuinely pissed someone off. I'd have preferred a bit more embellishment as to exactly why I suck but it's always nice when people have emotive responses to stuff I write... I can only hope that one day I too reach the level of Ian Winwood

I have enormous amounts of beef at the moment though. Lagwagon and No Use For A Name are touring Europe and not coming to the sodding UK, which is frankly devastating. I haven't seen these boys live for over a decade and when I heard a tour was planned, I immediately messaged Big Mearz and dusted of my wallet chain in preparation. How can you tour Europe and not play the UK?? Bastards!

As you can see this has cut me deep...Still, with a Whitechapel with Annotations Of An Autopsy and Trigger The Bloodshed tour, plus Devildriver and 36 Crazyfists all planned for the arse end of this year there's plenty to look forward too. It's been a fair while (in MADman terms) until I've been to see anyone live due to everything that's been going on at home so I'm getting jittery. Unless I'm in the pit getting sweated on by a selection of robust gentlemen in the next few weeks I might turn peculiar.

On the subject of gigs, Sonisphere takes place this weekend so for all you lucky, lucky fuckers who are trucking to Knebworth, have a truly amazing time. It's going to be difficult not to with Alice Cooper, Rammstein, Slayer, Anthrax, and some mob called Iron Maiden? It's a spectacular lineup and if money were no object I'd be all over it like a fat kid on a Mars bar.

I'm off to buy tickets for Cancer Bats so with the sun shining and last night's Chinese pushing uncomfortably on my lower intestine, see youz lot later.

Peace,
M
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Little drummer boy

I might have mentioned it once or twice before but I love a bit of drumming. My old man bought me a set when I was 14, partly due to the fact that I was a fucking annoyance and it kept me out of the way, but mainly because I was growing up in Norfolk and he was keen to distract me from the temptations of incest and sheep buggery.

My mate and I then spent the next four years ruining the relaxed ambiance of our village, me on the skins, him on the out of tune guitar, with our fucking horrendous covers of Nirvana, Green Day, 3 Colours Red, Feeder, and other timely outfits. Me and Bro Dude also formed Spazmodik Kontraction, a Scandinavian-inspired deathgrind band that covered songs by then-popular girl band Hepburn.

But lo, off I went to university and since then, I've not had space for the kit. Until now...

Me and Hot Chick now live in a place with a slightly Fritzl-esque soundproof basement so preparations are in place for Operation Drum Resurrection. All I need is a crash cymbal stand and a double kick and I'll be touring with Dream Theater before you know it.

The kind people at Metal Blade have been on an album release mission of late which has resulted in some absolute quality finding its way onto my Non-Apple MP4 player. There are two that have really caused penile engorgement on my part; A New Era Of Corruption from Whitechapel and Blekinge from Istapp.

Whitechapel's latest album came out a few weeks ago and it's quite simply devastating (in a good way). This mob are absolute genre leaders in deathcore and the new outing cements this. Enormous riffs, crippling vocals and big name appearances (Chino Moreno, anyone?). It's a truly wonderful thing.

Speaking of which, Istapp are a new band on me but Blekinge is without doubt in my top ten albums of the year so far. Swedish black/folk/death/prog metal? Don't mind if I do. I'd recommend wandering over to their MySpace for a bit of a listen, particularly to I Väntan På Den Absoluta Nollpunkten

Is it wrong that I'm looking at my clock, which is currently sitting at 07:35, and thinking about beers? I know I have a problem, that problem being I don't have enough money to drink as much as I'd like to. But the weekend shall undoubtedly be full of ale and merriment, punctuated by globules of extreme metal and arse-leakingly amusing stupidity so with all this in mind, I'll leave you lot to it.

High 5 mother fuckers

M
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Music; it's a funny old game

The past few weeks have undoubtedly been the hardest of my life so far but I don't want to dwell and just repeat last week's post. So, for the shit loads of messages me and Hot Chick got from people we know, people we don't, and a fantastic collective of folks on Twitter, I shall simply say thank you.

Music has been a massive remedy for me recently. It's also been the catalyst for disaster but more on that in a moment. I've always had a particularly emotive response to some songs - Leatherface's How Lonely always causes me to smile, Slipknot's Disasterpiece from the 9.0: Live album makes me want to run down a street smashing windows, etc. But add personal grief and booze into the equation and as a badass ghetto homeboy like myself would say, shit gets crazy.

I went for a few drinks the other night, as one does, but started to feel a bit melancholy so though I'd do an early swerve and head home. My shuffle's formidable choice of tunage at this point was Dance Hall Crashers' Lockjaw album. Those who know the band will be aware that this is not metal at all; it's simply the most upbeat, positive 'ska' sung by a couple of chicks and I love it. So with Pick Up Lines chirping away in my ears, things were bearable as the booze hammered it's way through my blood system. Then it all went a bit wrong as my shuffling landed on Dyscarnate's Enduring the Massacre. Angry music makes angry man. I should have probably skipped immediately but I love this album and in a way, wanted to be angry. So after six tracks and with blood pressure at an all time high, I made the executive decision to shuffle on and landed on Ugly Kid Joe's Cats in the Cradle, and promptly spent the rest of the evening (including a rather awkward leg of a train journey home) crying.

Isn't that fucking amazing though? Isn't the fact that music does this to people extraordinary? Beer had loosened up my emotions but even walking along stone cold sober, certain songs will cause me to well up, certain songs will cause me to smile and certain songs will cause me to punch the crap out of a moving vehicle.

Some bearded fellow once wrote a few plays and in one, he said "if music be the food of love, play on". I couldn't agree more son, but it's not just the food of love - it's the food of pain, happiness, sorrow, joy, and just about every other emotion.

With that in mind, my beautiful freaks, away with thine and listen to some fucking tunes.

Laters
M
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Our pain

Me and Hot Chick have been together for many years now, married for half of them, and it's fair to say our life together has been perfect in every way. A few months ago it was made even more perfect when we found out that there was going to be an addition to our family.

With our little one on the way, we've been spending the last few months preparing. The crib is sorted, the Download Dog stuffed toy was ready and thanks to one of our best friends, the kid's AC/DC T-shirt is ironed and ready. Hot Chick's even compiled the songs she wanted played at the hospital come the big day despite the fact it's a few months off. She likes to plan, does my other half.

Last week we went to the doctors for our first glimpse of the kiddy which, as I'm sure many of you can testify, is a pretty exciting time. As we were called in, my heart was hammering away like Derek Roddy's kick drums and I had the constant, overwhelming desire to take a shit.

My wife lay down on the table, we held hands and smiled, and the ultrasound was passed over her. The midwife then stoically informed us that she couldn't find a heartbeat. After a second midwife came in to confirm, we were told our baby had died.

Needless to say our hearts broke at that very instant. Nothing could prepare us for the indescribable pain and overwhelming sense of loss.

I remember when we found out about the pregnancy I cast a cursory eye to the sky and flippantly said "right God, here's your chance to make me believe - please make everything okay". So, if there is indeed a God, he's a total fucking arsehole. This experience is the final nail in the coffin of religion for me. No omnipotent deity would ever allow such pain to be bestowed upon good people. I've lead a good life; I give to charity, I love and respect my family, I've never committed a [serious] crime, I help old people cross the road, I help people carry heavy bags up stairs, and I will continue to do so but not with the vague notion that by doing good, goods thing will happen to me. That's all bullshit. Karma, religion, it can all fuck off with it's retarded nonsense.

Seeing my wife in a hospital bed in preparation for an operation to remove our dead child, crying, doubled over in pain, bleeding; nothing in my life will be worse than that. Nothing could compare to how useless and superfluous I felt. I always want to make things better, fix things, but this was one thing that I could do fuck all about.

Some smart fucker once said "time is a great healer". And they're right. It's been over a week since our missed miscarriage and subsequent operation and although we cry every day, things are getting better. We have amazing families, our friends are second to none but more importantly, we're in it together.

Sorry for the lack of metal this week but this has been incredibly cathartic.

Thanks for reading.

M
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