Anglo-Saxon Peasant Metal

On Saturday, as I mentioned on my last post, I went to see a Pagan/Folk Metal gig. There were four bands, Andraste, Annwn, Ravenage, with Northern Oak headlining. I'm not going to give you a massive breakdown of what I thought about these bands. For a start it doesn't fucking matter, what I want to do is have a look at the third band Ravenage. They were a Viking Metal band from Hull, I really like some Viking Metal and I thought they were pretty good, least of all for their singer's 'comedy gold' introductions to each song in a thick East Yorkshire accent. But some of their songs were OK, the bassist's hairy moobs were a bit distracting and the keyboardist's keyboard was at a jaunty angle. The guitarist closest to us was dressed in a chainmail shirt and had pretensions of the Viking Warrior about him. This brings me on to what I want to talk about; why is that all metal bands just concentrate on the warrior aspects of the Viking Age*? I started thinking about all the other aspects of the Viking Age that haven't been covered by Viking Metal bands. Rather than sacking monasteries or mustering a great army to crush the Saxons, what about the nine or ten months of the year that 'Vikings' spent on their farms? Where are the songs about tending the pigs and chickens? Where are the concept albums about sleeping in the loft of the long hall above your livestock to benefit from the heat of the animals? Where are the nine minute epics about using the loom to make blankets and clothing? I gonna start a Loom Metal band called Spindlewhorl, we're gonna be bigger than Turisas, I tell ya!

*I obviously know the answer to this, so don't comment telling me what I already know you fucking douchebags.

Bang your fucking heads!!

In a similar vein I saw that a U2 tribute band were playing locally, they are called U2-2 and are apparently the 'most authentic U2 tribute in the world'. Now, if you've read this blog before, you probably now that I have a slight problem with U2 so the fact that why anyone would want to emulate U2 is beyond me and why you would pride yourself on being the 'most authentic' tribute? OK, OK, I can give a bit of leeway and say most people are in cover bands for money. Most people would rather hear a lame band playing songs they recognise than not. That I can understand, it's easy, it gets you gigs and money/beer tokens and the adoration of fat middle aged men when you belt out your ropey cover of Wonderwall.

"Thank yoo, that was Boogie Town, this next number is our own take on an the Artic Monkey's Mardy Bum. One, Choo, Free, Four..."

I've always thought the idea of being in a band was to create music, write new songs, get some sick jams going, not to learn a few of the easier Jimi Hendrix songs and play them as though you wrote them. Look, I'm not above doing cover versions myself as you can see here with my 'Lost Wisdom' cover version, but U2-2 take this beyond the pale (excuse the pun). Not only do they sound like U2 but they fucking look like them as well! They are all middle aged men attempting to look like someone else. Someone else in a fucking shit band. Someone else who is the biggest fucking hypocrite on the planet. What is wrong with their lives that they have to attempt to live vicariously through someone else. Can you imagine waking up every morning and checking the tinternetz to make sure your facial hair is still exactly the same as The Edge's? No, Me neither, mind you it's not that the Edge has changed his facial hair for the past ten years, he's as stuck in his own rut as the rest of his fucking band is with their music. I can guarantee you that 'Frank' (or Phony Bono, as his mates probably call him) works as a plumber but fixes toilets with those stupid fucking sunglasses and that stupid fucking hat on. Speaking of which, why can't someone nail that fucking hat to Bono's fucking head like a Turkish emissary. At least that way he won't forget it and have to fly it half way around the world at the same time as increasing his carbon footprint and spending a thousand pounds that could have been better spent on the poor kids in Africa.


I could go on and on about this, but I can feel the vein in my forehead throbbing, so I'll leave you to read the next part of the long lost Singapore Blog:

Saturday, May 26, 2007

I have just returned from the most Metallist day ever, in fact it would be difficult to get more Metal than today without, in fact, turning into Metal itself. I have returned from the Sabbat/Ironfist gig in the Gas Haus. I had been in touch with Iron Fist through myspace and Ariff, there singer, told me about this gig. I went down to the Gas Haus this morning about twelve. Ariff introduced himself and told me the gig wouldn't be starting until about 1.30pm. I wandered down to the Singapore Art Gallery, where I was assaulted and insulted by more degenerate modern art. Regular readers of this weblog will know my views on modern art, so I won't repeat myself here. Suffice to say, I only wished I had some cans of paint with me in order to cover up the monstrosoties on display.

Infuriated I returned to find the first band was on, there was seven lined up for the whole day. Holy God, how much Metal can one man take? They were a pretty good Thrash outfit who finished with Necrophobic and Raining Blood by Slayer, which always gets top points in my book. The next band were called Tormentress and were made up of three girls and a bloke on drums. Again, good thrash, starting with a good cover version of Troops of Doom by Sepultura. I think they did some Sodom covers as well, but I forget. It seems everyone in Singapore is into Sodom, I only like their first EP and the Agent Orange LP. Maybe I haven't heard enough of their stuff? Then we had the spectacle of Iron Fist, Ariff, whom seemed quite normal when I met him earlier, turned up on stage wearing just a cod piece and covered in Corpse Paint. Some transformation. This is when the crowd went berserk. They had been warming up during Temptress' show, but the shit really hit the fan during this point! Diving, surfing and slam dancing made sure there was bodies flying all over the room, it literally was like a Chinese fire drill. Iron Fist finished with War Pigs, excellent!

Sabbat came on and whipped the crowds into mad frenzies with their blackened thrash. Again everyone went berzerk. I only wish I had taken my camera so I could have shown you what it was like. The rest of the bands suffered a bit from the crowd disappearing after Sabbat had played. I met a guy in To Megatherion the other night, Mike, his band played also. They were very good, technical Death/Black Metal, not really my cup of tea, but very very good musicians.Ariff came over and gave me a Iron Fist CD, which I am listening to now. He didn't want anything for it, a present from Singapore he said. I was chatting to the sound engineer and he told me he was from Leeds, small world. He asked me if I was from Halifax with my accent, I told him to fuck off.

I was knackered this morning when I set off, I was out til three last night at St James' Power Station, it was a bit crap to be fair. I had a bit of a dance,had a few drinks then headed home. I got in the taxi and purposely got in the back to try and have a bit of a snooze, but the bloody driver kept me awake with his questions about what I was doing in Singapore etc. To be fair he was a nice guy, so I couldn't begrudge him a bit of banter. Now if I could only do that with women, I'd be beating them off with a stick.

B***, T**** and I spent Friday looking for a beach to sit on during our day off. We drove over to Changi in the east and headed for the beaches there, B*** stood in some crude oil at the shore's edge, so that put the stoppers on that idea. We headed back to a place near our site called the Orientus, a resort complex. We paid our three dollars each and swam in the pool all afternoon. Twas brilliant.

Right, I'm tired, you've all had enough, fuck off home.