consume: bad music
But because of my advanced age, I will instead be talking about an album from last year, High on Fire's Blessed Black Wings. The label calls High on Fire a cross of Mötorhead and Slayer, which might be true if you were trying to listen to them from the bottom of a well. Full of Jägermeister. Their last album felt like drinking a well full of Jägermeister, then deciding to go smoke a bowl and listen to some tunes with Grendel's mom, which probably explains why it took me so long to buy the "new" one.
But this record does sound a little like Mötorhead, probably thanks to the Steve Albini production, which lifts and separates Matt Pike's trademark sludge without violating its spirit. Joe Preston (ex-Melvins) on bass helps the songs move along more than had been their wont.
I still have no idea where they got the Slayer, unless it's Pike's lyrics, lifted, as usual, straight out of the Dungeon Master's Guide.
Most importantly, Blessed Black Wings features monstrous riffage, which is all that matters. Buy it for all your loved ones this holiday season.
Disclaimer: I have terrible taste in music. Do not follow my advice, unless you want to rock at all costs.
Typically, I forgot about one of the most interesting books I read this year, Julie Guthman's Agrarian Dreams: The Paradox of Organic Farming in California, reviewed here. Since the book came out last year, though, I'm off the hook. Better new book ideas are to be had from Kitchen Arts and Letters. Ask them for a copy of their latest newsletter.