A few days before Joel and Ethan Coen’s adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s novel No Country for Old Men won Best Picture–and a little over a year after I wrote a piece about McCarthy fandom among metal bands–I noticed a reference to the book’s protagonist, Anton Chigurh, in a review of a metal record.

It’s no secret that metal fans love violent flicks, and that actual reading is in decline. So, I’m guessing that all of the references to Chigurh and metal (Google it) have more to do with the silver screen than with the printed page.

If that’s true, the Coen brothers will no doubt enter the pantheon of headbanger faves. What an honor to mentioned in the same breath as Fulci and Romero.

The “malocchio” (and the counteracting horned-hand, offered with a pfffst from the lips) is part of my vocab because of Citizen Mom. And I remember hearing about it from the Italian-American clergy who taught at my high school. But apparently Ronnie James Dio is like, the true pimp of the mano cornuta. I am ashamed that I did not know this.

BoingBoing: History of the Evil Eye

(Side note: I’m still wondering why the Supersuckers spelled it Mano Cornuda on their 1994 LP, which has “Born With a Tail” on it. That song is awesome.)

Today marks the release date of ANNWN, the new album from ex-local avant-metal guitarist Mick Barr (here, in the form of Ocrilim). I’m listening to it right now and, though drum-less and possessing of more bottom end, it doesn’t seem like a drastic departure from Ov, Mick Barr’s last record with the guitar-and-drums duo Orthrelm. Here’s my review of that release:

It is perhaps strange to say that Orthrelm’s new emphasis on repetition is a much-needed change. After all, the D.C. duo has earned quite a reputation amongst noise-hipster types for the non-recurring nature of its trebly, squiggly riffage. Guitarist Mick Barr and drummer Josh Blair’s initial, 2001-era performances were no doubt technically impressive feats, kind of like staring at the construction of a really long, really tall bridge. But, hey, a bridge takes you someplace eventually and, to be honest, Orthrelm’s all-solo-all-the-time schtick seemed to be going nowhere fast.

That’s why it was something of a relief to witness OV-type material on Orthrelm’s tour with the Dillinger Escape Plan and the Locust last winter. At least one…writer has asserted that there’s no way that these guys could be playing all of OV’s minimalist metal, that Barr and Blair must have recorded a few minutes of music and looped it into a whole album. That may be true. However, the new disc’s 45-minute song—or something just like it—has been witnessed live and is, thus, very possible, even if it seems inhuman. Sound-wise, OV is much like Orthrelm’s earlier catalog—that is, trebly and squiggly. The difference can be found in the presentation of licks, which get looped for several minutes at a time, yielding structure that’s closer to old Terry Riley or Steve Reich records than anything going on in underground metal. Repetitive? Absolutely. Boring? Never.

Here’s another piece from yours truly about Orthrelm.

And, just to be fair and balanced, as they like to say on Fox, here’s Michael J. West’s less-than-enthusiastic review of Barr’s “jerk-off session” on John Zorn’s Tzadik label.

I link, you decide.

Antarctica is often called the loneliest place on earth, but I know lonelier. It’s the studio of a 100-watt college-radio station at 3 a.m. During summer break.

I’m reminded of this because I’ve just come into possession of Live After Death, a new two-DVD set featuring Iron Maiden’s 1984-85 Powerslave tour in all its spandexed, Aqua Netted, testicle-crushingly high-pitched glory. Between Bruce Dickinson’s skull-head belt-buckle, Nicko McBrain’s 500,000-piece drum kit, and the doofy Stonehenge-y stage set, you could successfully convince an uninitiate that the video is lost Spinal Tap footage. But the music’s a hoot. I wish I knew of a way to get hold of the Man With No Clocks, so I could let him know about it.

The Man With No Clocks called me some years ago, back when I was DJing the 2 a.m.-6 a.m. slot at WHPK, the University of Chicago’s radio station. I wasn’t completely alone–I worked with a friend, but we were both aware of how nobody was listening, and we were pretty much free to entertain ourselves. We did live traffic remotes (ha ha, there’s no traffic at 3 a.m.). We attempted to invent the mashup in 1995 by spinning Madonna and Diamanda Galas LPs at the same time. (It doesn’t work). We played that Gear Daddies song about wanting to drive the Zamboni way too many times. All of which is to say that when the request-line phone rang, I looked at it quizzically in my half-awake state, as if a kitten had suddenly appeared on the mixing board. I can’t swear to the accuracy of the quotes that follow, but this is about the shape of it…

The guy sounded baffled. “Uh, hey, what time is it?”

It was around 4 a.m., I think.

“Whoa….whoa. I think all the clocks here broke down or something. What time is it?”

I’d already told him that.

“Oh. Did the power go down?”

Not that I’m aware of.

The man processed this for a moment. Then: “Hey, can you play some Maiden?”

Sure.

“You’re shitting me!” Awake now. “You guys don’t play Maiden.”

Busted. We sure did love our Sea and Cake over at ‘HPK back then. But I told him he was probably the only guy listening right now, so…

“Really?”

Really.

“Awesome. Fucking awesome. Hey, can you play ‘Rime of the Ancient Mariner’?”

“Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” on the Live After Death album, is 14 minutes, 6 seconds long. But a promise is a promise.

“Seriously? For real? That would be fucking awesome.”

No problem.

“Fucking awesome.”

You bet.

I hung up. I put on the record.

Fourteen minutes and six seconds later, the phone rings again.

“Fucking awesome, man.”

It was the only phone request I got all summer.

What? You thought that was a lame-ass story? Fine: here’s video of Iron Maiden playing “Powerslave” on the Live After Death tour:

The good news is that the bass/drum powerhouse known as Om (a.k.a. Sleep’s rhythm section) has teamed up with Maryland doom-master Wino and Neurosis‘ Scott Kelly to form a new supergroup called Shrinebuilder.

What not to like, right?

Well, unfortunately it also means the end of Om as we now know it. Here’s the word from Om’s Al Cisneros via Earsplit PR:

“Om is continuing forward with a new drummer and working on a new recording. Please check the band’s website and myspace page for updates.

A live vinyl only LP “Om - Live at Jerusalem” will be forthcoming. This is Chris Hakius‘ final release with the group.

I personally apologize to east coast fans who planned on coming out to the shows. Please know that Om will be back in your area later in 08.

Thank you to all of you. Live dates resume in late spring. There is a LOT of new material on its way.
Shrinebuilder is also forging ahead.

See you all soon.” - Al/Om

Been digging the doom band Indian (pictured), a Chicago trio that is about to release a new disc, Slights and Abuse/The Sycophant.

You can hear some of Indian’s stuff here. But I kind of prefer their slower, scarier material (think Khanate, Swans), stuff that isn’t promoted on the Web site.

This Chicago Reader piece suggests that the split between the thrashier stuff and the doomier stuff is some sort of internal divide between the guitarist and the bassist. Fast or slow, however, all of it is quite menacing.

Seeing as how it’s January and the release schedule hasn’t quite picked up, I’ve been revisiting some more ’07 stuff. This is what I wrote about Xasthur’s Defective Epitaph when I got the latest from this one-man-black-metal-band back in September:

Not only are the songs kind of lackadaisical, not to mention a bit too kvltishly recorded, but “Defective Epitaph” has to be one of the worst black metal album titles of all time. If you’re going to go with the adjective-noun thing, Malefic, you’ve got to think of something more grim than “defective.”

Here are some quick suggestions, free of charge: “Putrid Epitaph,” “Odious Epitaph,” “Unholy Epitaph”–even “Blemished Epitaph” is more likely to give someone chills.

Joe Gross said pretty much the same thing when he reviewed the album in the December issue of some other publication:

One would assume the title of this new one was supposed to be kinda funny, but he hasn’t exactly displayed a sense of humor about himself or his (really pretty amazing) body of work in the past. So, altogether now: Defective?! Really? That was the word you came up with?

Turns out the main difference between Defective and his last one, the excellent Subliminal Genocide, is that Xasthur (a.k.a. Malefic and, according to Spin, Scott Conner), decided to take up drums. On his previous records, he backed his many layers of chiming guitars and frosty synths with a drum machine, the fallback for many a one-man-black-metal-band.

Now, I’ve always said that rock and jazz acts are only as good as their drummers (which is why I always liked Rapeman better than Big Black), but it would seem that Xasthur is an exception. There’s something charming and not altogether distracting about the crappy fills, the hesitancy, and the recorded-in-my-Mom’s-basement sound.

Truth is, some of the best black metal is badass and funny in equal measure. Defective, which I like now, is just a bit funnier than most.

OK, so the year’s off to a weak start. The upcoming Grey Daturas disc on Neurot, Return to Disruption, is pretty hot—as in, I-just-scalded-my-face hot—and trumpeter Cuong Vu’s self-released Vu-tet disc should appeal to anyone who forked out for Miles’ The Complete On the Corner Sessions box set.

But that’s about it. The best thing I’ve heard in 2008 is a record I missed in 2007: Wolves in the Throne Room’s excellent Two Hunters.

As Erik Davis reported out in Slate, this Pacific NW black metal band has something of a D.C. connection. But don’t check ‘em out for that reason, or for the environmental stuff (that kind of conservativism has been present in black metal almost as long as there’s been black metal).

Check ‘em out because they made the most dynamic, melodic, and just straight-up serious black metal record of the past year. And sorry to all of my colleagues who fell in love with Watain’s Sworn to the Dark.

That record is a frightening blast or bad ‘tude, for sure, but, as with so much black metal, the nastiness wears thin after a few songs. It just can’t touch Two Hunters, which has me squeezing invisible oranges from start to finish.

Back in 2004, Tone, local devotees of “the math and science of the guitar,” collaborated with the Bowen McCauley dance company on a piece called Telemetry.

Neurot, the band’s Neurosis-affiliated label, recently posted YouTube links to the Kennedy Center Terrace Theater performance from November of that year.

You can find the goods here.

If you read BoingBoing regularly or have friends with outré tastes, then you surely know of “2 Girls 1 Cup,” which might be the most Not-Safe-For-Work thing in all the history of NSFW nasty yucky wrongness. Now, I promise am not lying when I say that I have never watched it. (And I’ve never actually looked at the original Goatse picture, either. This is true.) Perhaps I am timid. I prefer to think, however, that my imagination is more powerful than doo-doo reality. Call me the Doo-Doo Starchild.

But enough of that. Here’s what I want: I want Bang Camaro to record a song that has the following chorus:

2 girls 1 cup
It’s kinda fucked up
What they do to that cup!
2 girls 1 cup
It’s fucked up, yeah
It’s FUCKED UP!

The year is almost over and I do love lists, so I thought I’d throw some favorites up on BPB. Here’re my top five live shows of 2007, in no particular order:

Torche at the Black Cat
This poppy alt-metal band was every bit as substantial as its records imply, and heavier than most of its peers—which is saying a lot.

Boris at the Black Cat
The only act I saw this year that brought more heft was the Japanese psych-metal trio Boris (guitarist Wata pictured), which augmented itself with Ghost guitarist Michio Kurihara. Never before have I felt so completely bathed in awesomeness, not to mention bass. This was some kind of personal pinnacle.

Leos Janacek’s Jenůfa at the Kennedy Center

Tim Page pretty much nailed it in the Post. Here’s the conclusion to his review:

The production [of the Czech composer's great 1904 opera], which was first performed at the English National Opera last fall and then brought to Houston before coming here, is already famous. And rightly so: I cannot imagine a more affecting and appropriate “Jenufa.” The updating to the present day seems utterly natural, without any directorial affectation, and such time-tested theatrical gestures as the throwing of a chair or the smashing of a window here take on the painful immediacy of body blows. This is great music drama. Whether you end up “liking” it or not, you will never forget it.

John Abercrombie Quartet at Blues Alley
I only caught the first set, which had a more ragged, aggressive vibe than the guitarist’s excellent latest, The Third Quartet. That record, like the two ECM discs that came before it, documents what is without a doubt one of the best stealth bands in jazz.

Alex Ross at Politics and Prose
Not a live set, per se, but Ross was more entertaining than most live bands I see. He read from The Rest Is Noise, his new book about 20th century classical music, and, via laptop, played selections from Stravinsky and Reich, among others (Bjork, too, got the invisible jukebox treatment). He’s a generous guy in print, and even more so in person.