Black Metal and Hipsters

So I acquired a copy of Anaal Nathrakhs In the Constellation of the black widow....I love it. Its like the first time i heard SYL's city but way more grind black. Its like SYL and Emperor had sex all night using a razor studded dildo. Or that thing from the movie Seven.
 
Review - Coffee Drinker's Gazette

I couldn't have gotten the news at a better time. It's been quite some time since a show (or any Earthly event, for that matter) has impacted me in such a way that I would consider it profoundly life-altering in any degree. So of course last night when I'd initially heard that Wolves In The Throne Room - a black metal act which I fortunately have had the opportunity to catch live once before - were playing a show the next day my interest got peaked. Even more so when the next pieces of the puzzle were laid before me: it was only $5, Salome and Shrinebuilder were also on the bill, and all this was going to go down at NYU.

Yeah, my jaw dropped also.

Someone had the very good fucking idea of taking 3 bands whose music conveys a sort of transcendental quality to it, and you plant them in a well-renowned facility of educational intake, the result being 50 years down the line future CEO's and tycoons and cybernetic organ harvesters will be controlling every aspect of your insignificant lives while spinning black metal and doom metal.

For the record, I spent the majority of the show sitting, cross-legged, closed-eyed, meditating while under the influence of dextromethorphan and cannabis. ;/

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Magnificent, shamanistic soundscapes intricately crafted via time-stretching tremolo picked riffs soaked in everlasting melancholy in a crystal clear stream flowing during Spring and the howls of the sad souls of the Earth.

That is the essence of Wolves In The Throne Room. The band describe their sound as "purifying black metal" or "transformative black metal", titles which could not be more accurate in their descriptions. Being that I was pretty much the only person who decided to break away from the norms of headbanging and moshing, calmly sat through their set and allowed their purifying sounds to wash over me, cleansing me as I sat paralyzed in a shamanistic trance. (The next few parts are all hypothetical... -coughcoughshiftyeyes-) I decided to kick it up a notch by pulling out my trusty one-hitter pipe (lovingly nicknamed Quistis), filled it with some particularly high-grade cannabis which I'd ascertained from a friend while I'd been waiting on line, raised the flame to it, and inhaled profusely. Seconds turned to minutes, turned to days, to years, for the longer I held in this cannabyssmal voidvapor, the more it seemed that the DXM was mercilessly dropkicking my existence, and judging by the intensity that this particularly bleak yet tranquil dirge was encompassing me in, I knew that the next pull would be what many would call 'the point of no return'.

Fuck it.

I exhaled, and as the fumes eventually cleared out, so had my mind. I existed, not as myself, but as just... to make it short, I experienced ego death while listening to Wolves In The Throne Room, and I couldn't have been any happier.

The material they played I believe was off both Diadem of 12 Stars as well as Two Hunters. Though I have no complaints, I would have liked to have seen them play through the entirety of their Black Cascade material akin to the show they did at Death By Audio in Brooklyn a year or so back where they played the entire Two Hunters album. As with the previous band, Wolves' sound was particularly rich, full, complete, and definitely fucking loud. I still can't feel my body as I'm typing up this review.

This is music to meditate to in conjunction with hallucinogens, most definitely.



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The black metal movement has reached the campuses of higher learning. Disheveled haired heebs sopping on the milk of their daddy's Citibank teat spend hours drifting away to another sphere of consciousness, bedecked in uggs and snorg tees they noodle dance the night away like Pfeifer in Scarface to tremelo riffing ragamuffins who are too proud to have a lesser man (one of the charred persuasion) plow their Puyallup fields. The hymns which send shivers down a lass's hairy underoo and a quiver up the collar of those cankers which need to be lanced from our sight. Eurovision, you're too late! You can't exhume a rotting corpse and stick a dagger in her breast! What is dead is dead, the moaning has ceased. All that remains are those who mourn.
 
For the record, I spent the majority of the show sitting, cross-legged, closed-eyed, meditating while under the influence of dextromethorphan and cannabis. ;/

*notes this, "for the record"*

how can a person like this live with himself
 
I think that that review is a parody, written by RiA himself.

EDIT: now that I re-read it, it's pretty obvious. Good show, sir, good show.... :lol:
 
Would it be that hard to look up? Just sayin'....

Either RiA wrote that or he has an evil hipster twin.
 
That's been the talk of the town for the past few weeks. I never really put the two together (Scion & Toyota). I just figured it was a random name. Then again, I didn't pay much attention. From everything I've heard so far, it went really well. Wish I could have seen Yob.
 
I dealt with a similar crowd for a Gates of Slumber show a couple weeks ago. WTF. I overheard some addict in line behind me saying "Look there's a cat, man I wanna cook that fucker up with some meth, mmm". 'the fuck!?

He actually kind of resembled that douche in the center of the pic
 
that entire 80's style hardcore vs/ metal kids rivalry needs to be brought back.

we can't tolerate coexisting with these obvious fakes.
 
dumb hipsters were actually following this dude around ... and clapped

 
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