So you’re 21 and in college. Congratulations, you made it to the stage of life in which you don’t have to drink contraband Keystone Light in a dorm bathroom. The world is your sauced-up oyster. But now that you don’t have to sneak suds, where can you go that’s not halfway across town?
Or, how I learned to stop worrying and explore my city So you’re new here. That’s cool. Welcome. At this point, you may be unfamiliar with all the amenities that…
If you’re like me, you likely wrote Nachtmystium off when “Nightfall” landed on the love-it-or-hate-it video game Rock Band. Not because all black metal fans hate Rock Band or anything but because the song sounds like Fall Out Boy fronted by Varg Vikernes.
Oh, how genres ebb and flow in popularity with our world’s hip elite.
Ever since Nachtmystium decided that it wanted to deviate from the black metal fold and have its songs featured in Guitar Hero games, I’ve been mourning its passing almost weekly. What once was one of the mightiest, most innovative bands in the genre is now a hull of its former self, getting checks cut from Activision to write black metal tunes with four-on-the-floor drum tracks.
Sometimes influential bands must be given a gestation period post-breakup so that their influence is given proper due. True innovators that transcend popular talking-point genres don’t ever get ripped off immediately. They are instead blatantly copied years later.
Those hip to the metal scene may still be green when it comes to Burning Love, but its members are anything but unfamiliar—if you’ve been paying attention, that is.
Have you ever fallen into a situation where you felt you truly didn’t belong? Most everyone has. You walk into the weird part of a bookstore or stumble into a strange new restaurant, and then a feeling washes over you—like maybe you should turn around and run away as far and as fast as you can.
I’m not sure why, but whenever any artist from Portland puts out a much-hyped, slickly produced electronic record, I automatically assume it won’t be any good.
It’s not to the discredit of Portland’s artistic community. Indie rock? Sure. Neofolk? Yes. Electronic? Not so much.
Online auction sites have now made the “unprecedented deal” obsolete in specialty shops around the world. Perhaps none are affected more than your friendly neighborhood record store. What once was a Sun Ra collection that was modestly priced because the clerk on duty never heard of him is now a treasure trove of expensive wax slices.