Deadsy. Haven’t heard of ’em yet? You will.

Does that mean they’re good? Not necessarily, but they’re original, and that in itself is enough to garner media attention these days. I can sense these things. You wait and see, in six months everyone will be talking about this band and you can go around bragging to all your friends that you knew about it six months ago because the Flack man has his ear to the street. And if not, fuck it, I don’t get paid to write this shit and you don’t pay to read it.

Deadsy sounds like … (here goes) … “Type O Negative meets The Cure with some major David Bowie influence thrown in.” That’s about the best I can do for you on the surface. I saw them described as a “gothic new-wave doom-metal band” on another website. That’s probably not too far from the mark. The odd thing about this disc is that even though the band has a new, fresh sound, most of this CD was recorded in 1997, and has been being passed between record labels ever since.

Elijah Blue Allman (Greg Allman and Cher’s offspring) sings vocals as P Exeter Blue on the disc. The vocals are a throwback to the heavily echo and ‘verbed vocals of the 80’s, sounding more like Bauhaus or the Cure more than anything of recent times. The most recent thing I could think of to compare it to would be Orgy. The guitar/bass on the album is heavily overdriven — I get roughly the same effect by plugging my Peavey Rage directly into my soundcard and sending the levels through the roof. Percussion is snappy when required, but heavy and lumbering when the songs call for that as well. Mixed in with that are keyboards — lots and lots of keyboards, in fact. Nothing modern sounding, mind you, just lots of old 80’s sounding over-the-top synthwork. It’s as odd to listen to as it is to describe, but somehow it works.

The songs are as complex and layered lyrically as they are sonically. The lyrics are thick and poetic, with tinges of Bowie thrown in. Other lyrics reminded me of Tool in places. There aren’t many bubble gum sing-a-long choruses here, but it all sounds poppy. This band reminds me a lot of Tool, not in sound but in design. There are just enough pop songs to get people pulled into the Deadsy circle, but if you spend the time tooling around their website or in the booklet, I think you’ll find a lot more to them.

Time will tell if the masses will attach themselves to Deadsy’s dark, moody, retro sound. Whatever you say about the band, one thing’s for sure — it’s a breath of fresh air compared to most of the other crap coming out right now. If you miss dudes wearing black turtlenecks and eye shadow or are just looking to hear something new and different, check Deadsy out. Once MTV gets a hold of them, you won’t be able to avoid doing so.

I’m sure the band will gain some notoriety with their fuzzed out cover of Rush’s “Tom Sawyer”, but hopefully that won’t end up being just a one hit wonder for the band.

Tracks:
01. The Key To Gramercy Park
02. Winners
03. Brand New Love
04. Mansion World
05. Lake Waramaug
06. The Elements
07. Flowing Glower
08. Furture Years
09. She Likes Big Words
10. Cruella
11. Seagulls (The Macroprosopus)
12. Le Cirque En Rose (Obsolescence)
13. Tom Sawyer
14. Commencement

In tenth grade, my sociology teacher had become very concerned about a small group of young men in his class. My friends and I had begun growing our hair our, wearing heavy metal T-shirts, and acting like, well, teenagers. Convinced that “the Devil’s music” had corrupted us, Coach Pierce brought in an expert – some preacher from the local Baptist church who brought with him a set of videos. They were the equivalent of the “Blood on the Highway” videos they show you in Driver’s Ed – basically, a three hour set of videos discussing the evils of rock music. The last two days were labeled a “question and answer” session, but ended up being little more than a “preach to the long haired kids and tell them how good Church is and how bad their music is” class – hey, you can get away with those sorts of things here in the Bible Belt.

To show us the evils of our music, the movie contained several music videos to support it’s claims. When talking about straight out Devil worship, they showed Corrosion of Conformity’s “Mine Are The Eyes Of God,” and to talk about homosexuality, they showed Jane’s Addiction’s “Mountain Song.” I can’t say that any of my friends were “saved” that week, but I can tell you one thing – we all walked away Corrosion of Conformity and Jane’s Addiction fans.

As a young guitar player, I quickly learned respect for Dave Navarro’s guitar playing. I downloaded (from BBS’s, not the internet!) tablature for several Jane’s Addiction songs. I remember one that layed out the bass lines, had the lyrics written on top of that, and then for the guitar tab it just had one comment: “I have no idea what he’s doing here.” And it was true, you could listen to the songs and just think, “Good God, what the hell is he doing there?” Sure, certain JA songs had recognizable choruses, but there were tons of solos, bridges, and sometimes even main riffs that would leave my fingers blistered for days – and those were just the ones I could figure out.

Jane’s Addiction came and went, but Dave Navarro remains one of my guitar heros to this day. Even his work with the Red Hot Chili Peppers is phenominal. To capture on paper what his guitar sounds like would be like to just write down the words of say Martin Luther King, Jr. The words are only part of the emotion – the delivery is everything.

This long introduction isn’t meant to compare Dave Navarro’s fretwork to freeing the slaves, but simply to express the admiration I have for Mr. Navarro. Not necessarily for Dave as a person as he’s pretty odd, but for his as a guitar player.

For me, this is the fundamental problem with Navrro’s album, Trust No One. It’s not a guitar oriented album. “There was so much to attend to,” Navarro said in an interview with SFX.com, “the guitar just ended up being secondary. ” See, that’s a problem. I really don’t care about Dave Navarro’s views of the world. I mean, maybe I would if I didn’t know who he is or what he was capable of on a six-string, but I do, and I do – and I wanna rock. It’s like Celine Dion putting out a CD of instramental songs – that’s all she DOES, she SINGS. Why would I want to hear songs with no vocals from her? (Why I would want to hear anything from her would be an entirely different arguement.) And therein lies the problem – Dave Navarro is one of the most influential and underrated guitar players of our time. Tommy Iommi’s solo record was a perfect example of a guitar player putting out a solo disk. Trust No One is also a perfect example – of how not to do one.

Those looking for straight forward rock, or anything that rocks at all for that matter, will be disappointed with the disc. Drum machines and synthesizers run rampant throughout the album’s 10 songs – only to be met head on by Navarro’s acoustic strumming. This isn’t a rock album – it’s some sort of wierd hippy love fest. After being a member of both Jane’s Addiction and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, for some reason Navarro now feels it necessary to prove to us that he can rip off the Stone Temple Pilot’s most mellow riffs. I just don’t get it. While all the musicianship on the album is top notch, Navarro rarely turns up the distortion and rips one off for old time’s sake. His voice is surprisingly good and fits this style of music – even though most of the vocals have been doubled or triple-layered in many cases to give his voice the illusion of depth. Capitol is pushing the point that Navarro played all the instruments on the album – does that mean he couldn’t afford fellow musicians, or no one was willing to work with him?

The key to the album is the lyrical content. During this time in his life Mr. Navarro was using a lot of cocaine and a lot of heroin. You may already be familiar with the line, “there is no love left in your eyes / there is love between your thighs,” from the first single of the disc, “Rexall.” This is one of the more normal lyrics in the album. The lyrics are often dark and introspective. “I met some friends of mine / I used to call them friends,” sets off an interesting part of “Sunny Day.” “Not For Nothing” is a sappy little love song (sarcasm) which laments, “How can you miss me when I’m here with you? / Miss the person you thought that I would turn into / How can you say you miss the small things? / Take my .38 and push it inside of you.” Plus, he gets to yell “Starfucker” a lot in this one – didn’t Reznor and Manson already do this already? The majority of the lyrics could just as easily have been found on the next Cure album – except even Robert Smith isn’t THIS depressed. “I’d never wish myself upon you / But I cut myself trying not to.” Ouch.

Summary: Mr. Navarro is one pretty depressed and strung-out guy. While depressed and strung-out he wrote a bunch of depressing lyrics, holed up in a studio for a couple of months, and recorded them. I would probably love this album a whole lot more if I didn’t know it was Dave Navarro. It’s like discussing John Bohnam’s solo harp album, or Louie Armstrong’s bongo extravaganza, or Kirk Hammett’s harmonica outing.

Trust No One stands on it’s own as a spiralling voyage into depression. It’s not a NIN or a Bauhaus level of depression, but he’s off to a good start. I think the difference is, Dave Navarro isn’t particularly upset about being depressed like Trent Reznor is – Dave’s sad, but he’s willing to live with it and stays busy numbing himself instead of getting mad about it. For what it is, it is. For what it could be, it isn’t – and it’s a shame.

Tracks:
01. Rexall
02. Hungry
03. Sunny Day
04. Mourning Son
05. Everything
06. Not For Nothing
07. Avoiding The Angel
08. Very Little Daylight
09. Venus In Furs
10. Slow Motion Sickness

In various reviews across the web, I’ve seen The Datsuns compared to The Strokes, The Vines, and The Hives. Personally, I think that’s The Crap.

The Datsuns blow them all away.

Hot off their award for “Best Live Band” by NME comes the Datsun’s self-titled, major label debut disc. Hailing from New Zealand, the quartet blaze forward with a rocking intensity not heard in a while. Obviously, someone forgot to tell the Datsuns that good ol’ rock was dead.

Upon first listen, I could see where comparisons between the Datsuns and those other “The” bands came from. The difference here is, while those other guys (ie: The White Stripes) are following up their rockin’ singles with lighter, softer tunes, the Datsuns are here to keep on rockin’ straight through the night.

“Sittin’ Pretty,” the disc’s opener, launches with a catchy scale-based riff, introducing listeners to the band’s sound. Fans of fuzz, cheap mics and Mashall stacks will be in heaven. Track two moves on to a song dedicated to lost love. “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers Anymore?” Hardly. Try, “Mother Fucker from Hell,” which is also the song’s chorus. “There’s a girl running around my head/I know she makes me frown/She may be crazy, she maybe not be right/She makes me feel like/Like a motherfucker from hell!” The guitar riff manages to best the opener’s, making this song even catchier than the first!

And so goes the album. Each song is basic rock n’ roll, consisting of good riffs, catchy choruses, and layers of distortion. I’d say it wasn’t rocket science, but the explosiveness comes damn close. But there’s no smoke to be found here. The Datsuns are what they are — straight forward, kick ass rock and roll.

By the time “Freeze Sucker” comes around (“Hey, baby, now what she said/freeze sucker, you move and you’re dead”) the party feels like it’s ended much too quickly. All ten tracks on the CD have the same basic sound, but the riffs and song structures themselves keep each track sounding original.

Whether chasing down bad guys in your ’72 Gran Turino, getting people off their asses at your next party, or just playing air guitar in the bathroom mirror, the Datsuns have written the perfect soundtrack for you.

Tracks:
01. Sitting Pretty
02. MF From Hell
03. Lady
04. Harmonic Generator
05. What Would I Know
06. At Your Touch
07. Fink For The Man
08. In Love
09. Your Build Me Up
10. Freeze Sucker

Glenn Danzig is a person who can adapt with the times. Unlike bands who completely change their sound every time a new trend comes along, Danzig has a way of remaining modern and cutting edge without selling out or straying too far from his roots.

Such is the case with Danzig’s seventh album, titled 777: I Luciferi. For those who have been out of the Danzig loop, Danzig’s 5th album was panned by critics and fans alike as being “too industrial”. The dark one answered back with 6:66 Satan’s Child, a really good album that didn’t get nearly the amount of press it deserved.

Danzig’s seventh album picks up where number 6 left off, but delivers more. A whole lot more. In fact, 777: I Luciferi may be Danzig’s heaviest and best album. Ever.

Each Danzig album has something that sets it apart from the rest. The word that sums this album up is “guitars”. Raw, catchy riffs with evil dripping from every hook on the disc. The majority of the album keeps a pretty rapid pace, with big open chords during choruses and lots of palm muting and bends during verse riffs. The album still has that patented heavy Danzig guitar sound, but it’s been modernized this time around.

Danzig albums have always been about vocals first, guitars and drums second, and bass last. Album #7 makes no attempt to reinvent this formula — Glenn’s voice is thick and right up front. The songs are all guitar oriented, with the drums blasting through and the bass following behind. The bass is best noticed when the guitars are turned off, mostly in the slower, moodier, darker passages (few and far between). I didn’t notice any keyboards or synths on this disc at all — Danzig 7 is a straight forward rock album, and an aggressive one at that.

Danzig tackles such topics as child abuse and world hunger on this album … hahaha, who are you kidding? This is Danzig, baby! With songs like “Black Mass”, “Dead Inside”, “Kiss The Skull”, and “Naked Witch”, you can rest assured that Evil Elvis hasn’t strayed too far from his original path to Hell. Fans of Danzig albums #1 and #6 will take an immediate liking to this disc, while fans of some of his slower, keyboard based music (#2 through #4) may have to let #7 grow on them. There are no fans of #5, face it. I honestly believe that this is some of Danzig’s strongest material ever. The only slow point comes in “Without Light I Am”, the closing track of the disc, and even it is crammed full of emotion and explosions of energy. Those of us who have been waiting for a complete album of rocking Danzig tunes finally got our wish.

It looks like it may turn out to be a “Dirty Black Summer” after all.

One of the signs of a great album is being able to remember exactly where you were the first time you heard it. In the fall/winter of 1994 I was working at Best Buy, and had wandered out of the computer department (where I worked) over to the music department. Someone had put Corrosion of Conformity’s Deliverance into one of the listening stations, so I slipped on the headphones and pressed play. I stood right there for the next sixty or so minutes and listened to the entire album from start to finish, an act that I’m pretty sure got me written up.

Corrosion of Conformity’s fourth album Deliverance picks up where Blind left off. A departure from the band’s early hardcore/thrash sound, Blind and Deliverance are straight up heavy metal. Originally hailing from North carolina, the band’s southern roots really begin to show through on Deliverance. This is in part due to the addition of Pepper Keenan, who joined the band prior to 1991’s Blind and took over as lead vocalist for 1994’s Deliverance.

One of the things I have always loved about this album is the wide range of songs it contains. Right up front, Corrosion of Conformity hit you with three classics in a row. Starting with the hard hitting “Heaven’t Not Overflowing,” the band moves into “Albatross,” a laid back grooving riff that contains a definite NOLA vibe, and moves from that into “Clean My Wounds,” a punchy, mosher’s dream. The rock continues with “My Grain” and “Senor Limpio,” a song that contains the classic lyrics “So hard to be a fighter when your hands are always tied” (followed by, “I wish I had myself a dime for everytime I cursed your god damn name.”) The album controls the pace by interspersing these tracks with slowed and tuned down jams. Later in the disc we get the album’s title track, a song that brings things full circle with another distorted groovefest complete with a sing-a-long chorus.

Deliverance isn’t perfect. “Shake Like You” lacks a hook and it’s over-digitized vocals are annoying, and “Shelter,” by all counts a country song, feels out of place and all but kills the disc’s momemtum. The CD ends with “Pearls Before Swine,” another track that hits but isn’t as memorable as many of the previous tracks.

Many bands mistake “heavy” with “fast,” a mistake that COC does not make. While many of the riffs on Deliverance are slow and brooding, they are all powerful; in fact, the band here sounds a hundred times heavier than they did on “Animosity,” shedding The Sex Pistols for Sabbath.

Deliverance is a must-own album for any fan of Corrosion of Conformity, Down, southern rock or heavy metal in general.

01. Heaven’s Not Overflowing
02. Albatross
03. Clean My Wounds
04. Without Wings
05. Broken Man
06. Señor Limpio
07. Mano de Mono
08. Seven Days
09. #2121313
10. My Grain
11. Deliverance
12. Shake Like You
13. Shelter
14. Pearls Before Swine

For those of you who hate nu-metal, hate teen angst, and hate bands with DJ’s, let me save you a few minutes of your time. Simply click the “back” button on your browser and pick another review. You won’t like Comadose. They’re opening for Vanilla Ice’s heavy metal band Bi-Polar later this month. If you think that’s a good thing, read on.

Comadose’s Re-Up could use a little polishing, but overall it should stand shoulder to shoulder with other albums of this genre. (Think 40 Below Summer or Primer 55.) The formula should be pretty familiar to you nu-metal fans by now. Loud drums, (heavy on the toms), palm muted guitars, plenty of rapping verses followed by screaming choruses, with a few DJ “wicky-wicky” sounds lightly sprinkled over the top. Stir, bake, cook until done, build a local following and sell on the web.

Not that there’s anything bad here, there’s just not much new either. The musicianship on the album is actually pretty good. The two guitarists (Worster/Ackroyd) split the stereo channels for some interesting guitar separation. Occasionally the two revert back to the Korn school of guitar playing (one plays rhythm, the other makes sound effects), but for the most part the duo offer up a two channel palm-mute attack which they pull off pretty well. Martin (bass) for the most part lines up behind the rhythm guitar, but occasionally takes the lead riff in a song or two. Jacob Brown on drums does a great job. The drums are loud and mixed right up front, with decent separation and nice tones. Roberge’s vocals are also perfect for this style of music; his raps are quick and crisp, his screams are loud and rough. The DJ scratching and samples (Cicchetti) don’t detract from the music too much. If you like that sort of thing, it’s there, and if you don’t, it’s not terribly distracting. The samples play nicely, but some of the scratching seems out of place. About the only bad thing I can say about the recording is that the mix is pretty bass heavy. I messed with my EQ for a few songs until I got rid of the muddyness. If they sell enough copies of this CD, I’m sure they’ll have it remastered. The highs are really crisp and distinct, but to hear them you’ll either have to crank up the treble or turn down the bass.

The band doesn’t break a lot of new ground lyrically either. “Buzzkill” is about “not being able to break them”, “Junkie” is about addiction, “Velcro” is about trying to part from a bad relationship, and “Slampig” is about “getting back in the pit”. While none of these songs are destined to be turned into novels anytime soon, I’m sure that’s what kids these days want to hear about. I used to think no one would be able to break me either, but then I got a haircut and started wearing a tie so I could get a job better than Pizza Hut. Junkies are junkies and bitches are bitches, so get over it. I’m too old to go in the pit anymore. Damn, I’m getting old. And cranky.

What’s wrong with Comadose? Nothing. In fact, it’s almost as if a nu-metal cookie cutter fell from Heaven and cut out the perfect “angry cookie”. There’s 0% learning curve here – fans of the genre will pop this CD in and leave it there for quite a while. It’s pretty familiar territory, but sometimes that’s a good thing.

With only 7 songs lasting a total of 28 minutes, the album feels more like a sampler than a full length effort. Comadose is doing everything right and chalks up some great experience with this album. Re-Up is good – and I’ll bet their next effort will be great. Definitely worth the $10 asking price from their website. Good stuff coming out of the northeast. They’re currently planning a Midwestern tour that begins early next year, so keep an eye out for them on the road.

Tracks:
01. Buzzkill
02. Junkie
03. Velcro
04. Slam Pig
05. Numb Skull
06. Cushion
07. Pain for Pleasure

“Woe to you, oh Earth and sea, for the Devil sends the beast with wrath because he knows that time is short. Let him who hath understanding reckon the number of the beast, for it is a human number. It’s number is six hundred and sixety six…”

When I was in sixth grade, my grandma bought me three posters from a local thrift store. One was of Freddy Kreuger. One was a tour poster for Metallica’s Kill ‘Em All tour. The third was Iron Maiden’s “The Trooper” poster. I had no idea who Iron Maiden was, but with a poster like that, they had to be cool — almost as cool as my grandma.

Like the other DVD’s in the Classic Albums series, Iron Maiden: The Number of the Beast takes a look at the behind the scenes of Maiden’s seminal album. Through interviews with rock journalists, producer Martin Birch, and the band members themselves, the people responsible for creating the breakthrough album. As Bruce Dickensen explains in his interview, this was the album that separated Iron Maiden from all the other NWOBHM bands on the scene.

The documentary goes through the album song by song and allows the band members to tell the stories behind the songs. Trivia nuts such as myself will get a kick out of the back stories of such songs as “The Prisoner”, “Number of the Beast” and “Run to the Hills”.

While the DVD does contain some video and concert footage, the meat of the disc lies within the interviews. During one story on the disc, it is revealed that the band was paid nothing to record the album. In fact, at the exact moment the band found out their album had hit the charts, they were pushing their broken down tour bus down the road. There are also a lot of great stories about the backlash the band encounted from religious groups after The Number of the Beast was released.

Like the other Classic Albums DVD’s I’ve seen (Metallica’s self-titled album and Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon), Iron Maiden’s also contains samples from the original master tapes. Throughout different segments, you’ll get to hear various drum tracks, guitar solos and vocal performances separated out from the rest of the music.

Although the documentary is less than an hour long, it’s jammed full of facts and information that any Maiden fan or simply any fan of that era will enjoy. The DVD contains another 30 minutes of extras, including more interview segments, more Maiden footage, and a couple of short takes of Adrian Smith playing riffs from “The Number of the Beast” and “Children of the Damned”.

If you like “Behind the Music” specials and/or care anything at all about Iron Maiden, this DVD is for you. The Classic Albums series is a must have for fans.

Giving the finger to basically every musical trend that’s happened over the past two decades, Circle II Circle’s debut release Watching in Silence neither apologizes for nor tries to hide its obvious 80’s metal roots.

Vocalist Zak Stephens picks up exactly where he left off with Savatage three years ago. Stephens vocals are a major factor of the music, with lots of focus placed on his big, multi-layered harmonic choruses. Backing Stephen’s pipes are some very able musicians. While every note on the album is crisp, clear, and precise, nothing really stands out. Despite how professional each riff sounds, I couldn’t hum a single one of them once the disc was over.

Even with Stephen’s vocals in the mix is the piano. Yeah, that’s right. Tracks like “Forgiven” and “Watching in Silence” open with big piano movements before any rock kicks in — and that’s using the term “rock” pretty liberally. The majority of the tracks on Watching in Silence wouldn’t sound out of place on your average light rock radio station.

Other tracks, like “Lies” and “Out of Reach”, do actually get up to speed. However, even full tilt isn’t that aggressive. Stuck in a musical time warp, the heaviest stuff on the disc reminds me of Savatage-lite, or even mid-80’s Whitesnake. The rest of the tracks (like “Walls”) sound like Styx in their piano-heavy years!

Circle II Circle is best on “Circle”, where a fiery solo falls over a chunky riff with poppy drums filling in the holes. Unfortunately the brilliance is over almost as quickly as it appeared, and it’s right back to even more power metal ballads.

Most of Watching in Silence can be described as dreamy, relaxing … and unfortunately, boring. The few shining moments don’t make up for the wait. Maybe best described as “Dream Theater without the double bass, guitar talent, or sheer speed,” Circle II Circle performs exactly like a circle by ending exactly where they began, by taking listeners nowhere during this musical journey.

Tracks:
01. Out Of Reach
02. Sea Of White
03. Into The Wind
04. Watching In Silence
05. Forgiven
06. Lies
07. Face To Face
08. Walls
09. The Circle
10. F.O.S.

It’s fast, but not too fast. It’s brutal, but not too brutal. It’s heavy, but not too heavy.

Ok, strike that last part. It’s pretty damn heavy.

Hailing from Cleveland, the six members of Chimaira have built a solid fanbase over the past three years. Their hard work and dedication began to pay off after an appearance on Farmclub.com got the ball rolling. Appearances on two compilation albums (ECW’s Anarchy Rocks and a Cure tribute titled Disintegrated) and intense touring got their name out to even more people. Like the mythological creature of the same name (but different spelling), Chimaira lies in the shadows, ready to take over the world.

Their debut album, Pass Out Of Existence, could help them do just that. Pass Out Of Existence contains 14 brutal tracks that I GUARANTEE will put Chimaira on the map. They are the best band of this genre I’ve heard to date.

What genre is that? That’s a question easier to ask than to answer. Rapid blasts of kick drums, futuristic sounding keyboards and an intense vocal presence will almost certainly draw comparisons to Fear Factory. That’s not a bad thing. Where Fear Factory’s songs are either extremely mechanical or extremely non-mechanical, Chimaira mixes the two approaches fluently in each song, presenting a driving yet emotional sonic attack to the listener. Pass Out Of Existence takes the genre further than Fear Factory has over their last five albums. The thought of what Chimaira will be doing five albums from now gives me goosebumps. The dual guitars and keyboards give Chimaira an extra “thickness” that other bands are often missing — and yet, the band is amazingly tight. The band remotely reminds me of early Machinehead and Vision of Disorder, with maybe even a touch of Sepultura, but make no mistake, Chimaira is not a direct copy of anything I’ve ever heard.

This disc contains no filler. Each song is as aggressive and brutal as the last. Although the band has obviously invested a lot of hours into developing it’s own “sound,” each song is unique. Mudrock (producer, Godsmack, Powerman 5000) has done a good job of focusing on the differences between the songs and bringing those slight differences out. While the songs are always changing things up, it’s still straight forward rock – no Meshuggah-like time changes here or anything. Good, good stuff. The only break you’ll get while listening to this album is by using your pause button — from beginning to end, this disc does not let up.

A few months ago I went to an Ill Nino/Factory 81 show, and walked away a Chimaira fan. Ill Nino, Factory 81 and 40 Below Summer all put on good sets that night, but Chimaira totally blew me away. It was very similar to the first time I stood in front of Slayer and watched them play live. Part of me wanted to mosh/jump/hop, but I was too afraid of missing even one drop of their performance. Their live performance sounded great, and the CD sounds even better.

I could spend hours coming up with witty metaphors and beating around the bush, but let me instead use the direct approach: Chimaira has managed to crank out the best album I’ve heard this year. Not since Pantera’s Vulgar Display of Power have I actually planned on skipping work to go pick up a new album. Ten out of ten. Five stars out of five. Two thumbs up. What else can I say?

I’ve done my part. Chimaira has done theirs. Now it’s time for you to do yours. Check out their website, listen to the songs they have available online, and pick up your copy of Pass Out Of Existence on October 2nd. Beat the rush. Go early.

Tracks:
01. Let Go
02. Dead Inside
03. Severed
04. Lumps
05. Pass Out of Existence
06. Abeo
07. Sp Lit
08. Painting the White to Grey
09. Taste My
10. Rizzo
11. Sphere
12. Forced Life
13. Opinions
14. Jade

“Uh hi, it’s me again. Hey, I forgot to ask you, where would you like to go eat? Because I know this great Mexican restaurant, like it’s brand new you know, and like on Wednesdays they have all the tacos you can keep down for a dollar. (Pause) Oh, you dont like Mexican food? (Pause) Oh. You don’t like Mexicans.” – Cheech and Chong, Love is Strange

Throughout the 70s and 80s, Cheech and Chong’s drug-related albums and movies struck a chord with hippies and stoners everywhere. After the release of 1980’s Let’s Make a New Dope Deal, the pair focused their attention on films for half a decade before recording one last album together, Get Out of My Room.

A lot of things had changed between 1972 (the date of the pair’s debut album) and 1985’s Get Out of My Room — one of them being Nancy Reagan’s War on Drugs. As a result, the duo’s drug-fueled humor for which they were known is greatly toned down here — in fact, I can’t remember a single specific drug reference on the entire album.

Get Out of My Room contains both skits and original songs. The first half of the CD (originally, the first side of the record/tape) is the Dorm Radio side, on which two amateur college DJs broadcast “live from the basement of the science building.” There are three Dorm Radio skits, with original songs and skits appearing between them. In one skit, two businessmen talk business in a sushi bar as strange items keep appearing (including “Whale Anus” and “Half-Live Baby Seal”). The original songs include “I’m Not Home Right Now” (an ode to answering machines), Love is Strange (Cheech’s desperate attempts to land a date) and the only hit single from the album, Born in East LA (which Cheech later turned into a film without Chong).

The second half of the disc opens with The Music Lesson, a skit where two struggling British punk musicians give music lessons to a retarded boy (which they proceed to electrocute). We’re then taken to the Stupid Early Show (hosted by Stupid McCupid and Early Williams), an excuse to play silly commercials and radio bits. The disc culminates with Stupid and Early’s interview with the two punk musicians and the debut of their new single (the first heavy metal snuff tune”), Get Out Of My Room (And Leave Me Alone).

Despite this being Cheech and Chong’s last studio album together, it’s the first one I personally owned, and the album that introduced me to the pair’s humor. Long time Cheech and Chong fans complain that this album is weak and that the music reeks of the 1980s; as a fan of 80s music, I didn’t find the songs terrible, and personally, if you’re looking for the pair’s drug-related jokes there are at least seven other albums and probably as many movies with that stuff in it to pick from. Maybe it’s my own nostalgia, but I thought and think that Get Out of My Room is worth a listen. And, almost 20 years after its original release date, the album has been released on CD. Now, get out of your room and go pick it up.

01. Born In East L.A.
02. Dorm Radio I
03. I’m Not Home Right Now
04. Sushi Bar
05. Dorm Radio II
06. Love Is Strange
07. Dorm Radio III
08. I’m A (Modern) Man
09. The Music Lesson
10. The Stupid Early Show
11. Warren Beatty
12. Juan Coyote
13. Radio News
14. Get Out Of My Room