So, I arrive at Chris's apartment. He hands me a beer(a crisp and totally refreshing Leinenkugel Summer Shandy) and says, "So what are we gonna listen to, dude." I see Chris' violin case laying on the bed.
I respond, "How about.............Violin Metal!!!"
Violin has played a semi-prominent part in the more progressive side of the metal universe. The fiddle makes perfect sense, metal bands being over amplified string bands, and fits much better than, say, a tuba. I was certain that Chris would appreciate this, since he plays a mean fiddle in approximately 117 bands.
I knew exactly what I wanted to listen to: folk metal, with a side of doom.
Skyclad,
Korpiklaani, and
My Dying Bride were scrutinized tonight.
Skyclad are the original folk metal band. Think of
Thin Lizzy's more folky tunes, but if Phil Lynott grew up on Priest and Maiden instead of Elvis and the Stones. From England, they were the first to meld Celtic influences with powerful metal riffs into a total sound. And they were no mere novelty, their songs are stellar, and their lyricist (and vocalist), Martin Walkyier, is a visionary poet, a bard in the Celtic tradition. His lyrics some of the best in all of metal....hell, all of music, transcending mere genre. Never before during any previous Metal Night had we huddled over our computer screens, looking at the lyric sheet on Encyclopedia Metallum. Chris remarked that is lyrics are more in the singer/songwriter tradition, confessional, like Harry Chapin. I agreed, but much more biting, witty, and literary, drawing from history and personal experience, instead of fantasy.
The album, 'Irrational Anthems', is a classic. Less thrashy than previous albums, this is a streamlined album with a focus on songwriting, instead of riffs. Violin is displayed as prominently as the guitars. Chris noticed a bit of funk in the drum work, not overt, not like funk or rap metal, but subtle. We enjoyed the hell out of this album. My only criticism is that it may well be a little too mellow. They could have turned up the guitars a bit. But I voted it the winner of the night.
Then
Korpiklaani's 'Tales Along This Road kicked our asses with their energetic brand of hummpa metal. This was a vastly more metallic beast, but one that comes at you with a smooth mix of raging guitars, accordion, fiddle, and even Jew's harp. The lyrics are mostly in Finnish, which is guttural and fierce sounding, perfect for metal, especially coming from the gruff chortle of the vocalist. The tempo varies from extreme hummpa style thrashing to mellow balladry. The thing I like about this band is their attention to tunefulness. There are many memorable, righteous songs on this album. Chris approved highly of this band. It came in third, though, but only by default, since Chris was a bit more keen on the next album. It is still one of my favorite albums by one of my favorite bands.
After that, we were leveled by the funeral doom of
My Dying Bride's 'Turn Loose The Swans'. This was Chris' favorite of the night. It is an expensive, epic, and very slow paced album that takes it's own sweet time setting pace and mood. Most of the songs run between seven and ten minutes long. Violin is used sparingly, but effectively. The vocals alternate between death metal grunt and gothic moaning. The lyrics are of a dark, romantic, and literary bent; what you would expect from an English lit major. And those sweet, slow riffs. They are so mournful, so beautiful, so frightening. The only criticism we had were of a few of the cheesy keyboard arrangements, but that is a minor criticism.
Chris and I sat and talked about music for nearly three hours straight. It was beautiful. It was Metal Night.
Instead of pics, I am just going to post some lyrics.
Sear Me MCMXCIII by My Dying Bride
Pour yourself into me,
our time approaches
so near, that I sigh.
What danger in such an adorer?
We dance and the music dies.
We carry them all away,
as we glide through their lost eyes.
You lift me above myself,
with the ghostly lake of your mind.
Arise from your slumber in my arms.
Your beauty took the strength from me.
In the meadows of heaven,
we run through the stars.
Romantic in our tastes.
We are without excuse.
We burn in our lust.
We die in our eyes
and drown in our arms.
Turn Loose the Swans by My Dying Bride
So little of what we observe, is the girlherself. Elaborate, scented coiffers. Adieud'amour. Vast is the heirs ballroom. Let therich give you presents. Heaven pours fromher throat, as she sings and as she dances.The fumes of rich swine, honeyglazed anddripping, playing in the air. My mouth eagerand wishing. But I return to thisnightingale. Her hair all fiery red. Deep it isand wild. my weakness will be fed. Boyswhipped on the alter of diana, sometimesuntil they died. The cunning wilymerchant, and his four crippled horses. Talestold in warlike manner. The storyteller bythe fire . While musing deeply on this sight,the songster stirred my desire. You aresweet and fine to listen to. Long tressesabout her neck. Yet much is false. Thismighty evening, I've seen no face. This iscrushing me. My quill it aches. Turn loosethe swans that drew my poets craft. I'lldwell in desolate cities. You burned mywings. I leave this ode, splendid victoriousthrough the carnage. I wanted to touchthem all. I wanted to touch them all.
The Wrong Song by Skyclad
Another bad break - burst another bubble
Another lost cause - here's another trouble
Another heart ache - one more chance gone
Another lost chord in yet another wrong song.
Sometimes I feel like I'm standing on a hillside -
Screaming at the world (only wishing it would hear).
I can't deny that I'm tired of your lies
but I hope if I hide that you'll all disappear.
Can a fat man squeeze a camel through a needles eye? -
As hell freezes over the little pigs fly.
Just when things seemed better than before,
Listen there's a "black dog" howling at my back door.
You say I took it all the wrong way,
and got the wrong end of the stick.
Proceed to water down the truth,
then make me drink it 'til I'm sick.
It's a monkey shine - a mare's nest,
a cock and bull story.
You're talking through your hat,
you're full of sound and fury.
You're wide of the mark, on the wrong scent, barking up
the wrong tree, out of it, not a leg to stand on.
Dignity is one thing that you can't preserve in alcohol,
here's a drug to blow your mind - it's called sodium pentothal.
I've smelt more rats in my time than a sanitary inspector,
so every word you start to speak sets off my lie detector.
Another bad break - burst another bubble
Another lost cause - here's another trouble
Another heart ache - one more chance gone
Another lost chord in yet another wrong song.
Truth often hurts - but it hit me like a hammer,
I've been sweating blood for "product" - I thought it was my art.
Would it have made it tougher (all I've had to suffer)
if you'd come clean and told me the score from the start?
Stop treating everybody like a charity
I may have sold my soul - but I won't part with my sanity.
I was a schizophrenic - my better half left home,
The Samaritans don't answer when I call them on the telephone.
You say the cheque is in the post,
and it'll sound great at the mix.
But we have heard them all before,
have we the memory span of fish?
It's a monkey shine - a mare's nest,
a cock and bull story.
You're talking through your hat,
you're full of sound and fury.
You're wide of the mark, on the wrong scent, barking up
the wrong tree, out of it, not a leg to stand on.
Dignity is one thing that you can't preserve in alcohol,
here's a drug to blow your mind - it's called sodium pentothal.
I've smelt more rats in my time than a sanitary inspector,
so every word you start to speak sets off my lie detector.
The wrong song.
No Deposit, No Return by Skyclad
I remember my grandmother sat with her radio,
tea cup and walking stick set by her side.
As her old fingers reached out to turn up the volume,
I learnt what it meant to be bursting with pride.
She told me some tales of wars great and last,
black and white film stars sha'd liked in the past.
Taught me a few songs she'd learnt as a child,
stunned by her wisdom I listened and smiled.
She said to me "Lad, if you'll be a musican,
go out and be one - but one with conviction.
If there's just one lesson the young ought to learn,
it's pay no deposit and get no return."
Get no return.
Pay no deposit and get no return.
On time faded photographs I've seen an airman,
Stood next to the wings of a flying machine
and given the choice well I think I would rather
have done what I've done than have seen what he's seen.
I think that the Old Man feels really quite proud,
when he sits at the wheel and turns it up loud,
but imagined his son a lawyer or broker,
not sat on a bus full of drinkers and tokers.
He said to me "Son you can do as you please,
but always stand stright - never crawl on your knees.
If there's just one lesson the young ought to learn,
it's pay no deposit and get no return."
If there's just one lesson the young ought to learn,
it's pay no deposit and get no return.
Get no return.
Pay no deposit and get no return.
I've such a short time to tell you so much,
words come second best to a kiss or a touch.
Far thicker than water this blood we all share,
So please don't think that for you I don't care.
Fate may have driven us all separate ways,
but can't sever ancestry - splice D. N. A.
If life seems a road thats uneven and long,
to know where you're going just look Who you came from.
Many have said I take after my mother,
for her '67 was not a good year.
Though often I make her annoyed like no other,
through thick and through thin she has always been near.
Sometimes in the cold now I catch myself smiling,
'bout some stupid joke or a christmas tree shining.
I stood there so small 'neath that glittering tower,
it's memory a beacon in my darkest hour.
She said to me "Martin, whatever you'll be,
there's no such thing as a meal thats for free.
If there's just one lesson the young ought to learn,
it's pay no deposit and get no return."
If there's just one lesson the young ought to learn,
it's pay no deposit and get no return.
Get no return.
Pay no deposit and get no return
