Well, we've had some inquiries about the most righteous doom group Witchsorrow since posting the doom metal primer. For those too lazy and / or stoned to go to Youtube themselves, here's the lead "single" from the self-titled disc of dementia, "The Agony." If you don't think that this is some of the best leaden music of the year, you are a plone.
After the below video, be dead sure to go the the next link, where you can stream the entire new Krallice LP, "Diotima," for @#$%ing free. NYC ambient black metallers Krallice are the new cause celebre of the hipster fixed-gear cappuccino-metal set, but they're also one of the most creative bands in underground music. It's a must.
Click below to stream the new Krallice LP. From NPR. C'mon just take a sip of your fair-trade chai, don't let your greasy metal friends see what URL you're on, and click :
The icy October wind lashed at Sue’s cheeks as she made her way across the parking lot to her car. An unseasonably cold evening in which was planted the spore of an unseasonably hot romance. She had caught a glimpse of him from the coffee shop and tried to go out to him, but by the time she’d reached the threshold, he was already gone – evaporated into the gloaming.
In the brief magnetic instant that she’d seen him, he appeared loping purposefully down the sidewalk, his head turning slightly from side to side as he observed everything. His eyes were concealed behind a big black pair of sunglasses, but she imagined them to be green and intense. The collar was turned up on his leather bomber. The swing of his arms was a counterrhythm to his long stride. She could see even from a distance that he had a tattoo on his right hand.
She felt her heart crumple as she stepped out into the crisp afternoon air and craned her neck in vain to catch a glimpse of this man. She’d been harpooned with the most powerful of feelings, like this man would write the next chapter in her life, could shape her sadness into something towering and worthwhile. He was gone, though – slipped away like the lifesaving rope from a doomed mountaineer.
--
Ch. 2
All the heartbreak of years past came galloping, trampling back all of a sudden. Sue’s mouth turned down like a baby’s does when it’s about to wail. She could not prevent the single hard sob that escaped her throat. A terrible wave of loss settled through her body like poison.
She bumbled heavily back to her chair and gripped the paper cappuccino cup for support. That man in the sunglasses was receding ever further from the possibility of togetherness, and dragging, unravelling along behind him a feeble thread of her hope. She could feel it pulling out of her, like the stringy guts of a bee after it’s stung you.
Sue sat in the chair for another half-hour, bruised. Then she forced herself to get up and leave the coffee shop, moping on down the street in her car, back to her apartment. She flopped onto her huge couch and stared at her blank computer screen on the coffee table. She didn’t move for two hours. Then, the leaden blanket of sleep slipped over her. It was a fitful slumber. (32,975)
Here's the problem with reggae : its primary adherents in North America are hippies. Upper-class white kids with belabored dreadlocks. You know, morons. We don't much cotton to hippies here at Latewire, so therefore we don't really listen to reggae. Calypso, ska, rocksteady, dub, dancehall, jungle, yes. Reggae no. In case you hadn't noticed, it's not standard procedure here to 'lively up oneself.'
Recently, I've begin to reexamine this prejudice. In a car I rented recently, there was the newfangled satellite radio, so I tuned to the reggae station (called, of course, "the Joint" BAAAARF). I heard, in rapid succession, gritty, forboding tunes by Max Romeo, Culture, and Peter Tosh that I realized were not only non-hippie, but also objectively good. I began to think : why do I readily accept reggae as a part of a rap tune (cf. KRS-One, Ice Cube, Run-DMC) or neopsychedelia (Massive Attack, Tricky), but refuse to countenance it on its own? It's because hippies stink. But I realized that it's not th' fault of th' reggae artists themselves that their Stateside champions are these kinds of RABS poser slime :
So after coming to grips with this simple PR disaster, I gave a bunch of reggae tunes a listen and liked many of them. Toots, Max Romeo ("Lucifer!"), Dennis Brown, and th' standard output of Horace Andy all met with my approval. I've been a fan of Damian Marley since his breakout hit "Welcome to Jamrock," and I guess that while I've considered him dancehall because of his toasting style, th' music has more to do with traditional reggae than I was willing to admit to myself. One thing about Jamaican music (best typified in dub, which is always great) is that it nearly always includes crushingly heavy bass, which is something we could all use more of in our lives.
So, take some Thorazine, stay in yr house, and give some real dire Jamaican reggae a listen. Not any kind of bullcrap California pansy stoner rubbish, either. You might find as I did that reggae isn't just for $%&holes any more.
As a special treat, here's the original (rocksteady) version of one of everybody's favorite Massive Attack cover tune, "Man Next Door." This gem written by John Holt (also of "The Tide Is High" fame) is here performed by his group the Paragons. Nice wailing stuff.
For crying out loud though -- can anybody give me a reasonably sane explanation of what in blazes "Tu Sheng Peng" is?
BONUS! Here's the hard-to-find uncensored version of "Welcome to Jamrock." Funnyman a get dropped like a bad habit, apparently.
In this article, they're basically saying 'junk food' is bad, and stating that 'processed food' is synonymous with 'junk food', and therefore also bad.
Of course with the UK waddling down the trail blazed by the US in regards to unhealthiness and lard-buttedness, they're having increased incidence of gluttony-N-sloth-related illnesses.
Depression, of course, is one of them.
The problem with making the leap from depression to processed food is that unprocessed food can and does lead to just as many problems as processed. If you find me a 100% organic cheesecake that wont make you as fat as a processed one, I'll find you the ring of power and a hole to stick it.
The only link between processed food and obesity is that processed food is cheaper and that the moniker applies to more foods. For instance, you can't find unprocessed Ho-Hos, therefore that's one food that is worse for you than its 'organic' counterpart ... the infamous imaginary organic Ho-Ho (now with < 0 calories!). On a 'No Processed Foods Diet', you have to cut out foods such as Sodas, Twinkies, and Fast Food--all of which are verboten in ANY OTHER DIET.
Obesity, in all but a few cases, requires a huge amount of food to maintain. "There were no fat people in Auschwitz", as the saying goes, and likewise there are few obese people who don't eat too much.
One obvious advantage to an 'organic' diet is that it is invariably more expensive, and therefore you have to eat less. With that also comes less access to food since many dining establishments wont serve 'guaranteed organic'. This results in an additional de facto diet restriction.
Another advantage to 'organic' foods is that they are often fresher and therefore taste better. Taste is an obvious yet commonly overlooked part of sticking to a healthy diet. However, there's no rule saying processed foods can't be just as fresh and tasty as unprocessed, nor is there a rule saying organic is always fresher.
Heck, I've eaten TONS of organic foods that taste worse than store-bought produce or even FROZEN foods! I bought some 'organic' tortilla chips the other day that were stale, gross, and less healthy than generic cheap crap. I think some people see the 'organic' stamp and convince their senses it must taste better because it's organic. WRONG. The only things organic food 'must' do are cost more and be sold by hippies.
Make no mistake though, if you mixed all the natural ingredients of a McDonald's meal together in a blender--even without their added preservatives and whatnot--and chugged that sucker down, you'd still be just as big a fat ass as just buying them freeze-dried, re-fried, and laced with formaldehyde. Carbs are carbs, fat is fat, so why not save some money, get some discipline, and eat right... or you could 'be an individual' like everybody else and sell your soul to Whole Foods and 400% markups. (94,120)
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