Eargasm: Of hot cakes and death sentences

Man, too many interesting albums coming out these days, too little time to listen to and digest them. For a self-avowed music freak like me, that’s actually a predicament. Here are my brief takes on the online loots currently blazing on my player.

Hot Cakes by The Darkness. The band who, on their 2003 debut album Permission to Land, proudly proclaims that they believe in a thing called love only to retract it a couple of songs later by saying love is “only a feeling,” is back and telling us now that love is not the answer and, in fact, “will make you stupid.” Crazy dudes, these Brits are. But an album for heartbroken people this is not (despite the standout songs “Love is Not the Answer” and “Forbidden Love”). Actually, as one can expect from these Spandex-wearing glam rock worshipers, this album — their third after years of inactivity — is quite a party. Check out “Every Inch Of You,” “Nothin’s Gonna Stop Us” and my personal fave “Everybody Have A Good Time,” which, to these ears, is as stirring and celebratory as KISS’ “Raise Your Glasses” from the Psycho Circus album. And that Radiohead cover “Street Spirit (Fade Out)”? Awesome. Just plain awesome, man. Chill those beers and start sending out invitations. Let’s party rock like it’s the Eighties. (Verdict: Three and a half stars)

Dig in Deep by Tyketto. Admittedly, this is my first exposure to this band. All I knew before listening to this is that they’re one of those late Eighties/early Nineties bands whose careers got nowhere because of grunge, and then regrouped in the 21st century to give it one more shot, delight their orphaned fans, and perhaps earn more paychecks along the way. No one can really blame them for doing so, especially if they bring decent enough cuts on the table. Album-opener “Faithless” is an attention-grabber, a good tune for initiates. A soundtrack for deep introspection, it has this perfect-for-late-night-driving feel to it. The good vibes continue in the next two tracks, “Love to Love” and “Here’s Hoping It Hurts,” both of which would be rightfully at home on a Black Stone Cherry album. With one or two exceptions, the rest of the songs  are just as hummable, with heavy surges (the intro of “The Fight Left in Me”) and nifty guitar pluckin’ (midway through “Evaporate”) generously sprinkled here and there. Think Journey at their prime. If you like your rock smooth and unobtrusive, you’ll like Tyketto. (Verdict: Three stars)

Death Sentence by Dublin Death Patrol. Enough with the party-rockin’ and all this maudlin shit; time to get heavy and evil. And heavy and evil, of course, best describe this album. Just what can you expect when the band is jointly fronted by Testament’s Chuck Billy and former Exodus screamer Steve Souza, two of thrash metal’s most notorious vocalists? Pure aggression, man. That, and nothing else. Which could be either good or bad depending on the listener. On one  hand you could ask what’s the point of having a side project if you will not deviate from your original band’s sound. On the other you could just choose not to give a fuck. If you just want to, say, “remember to dismember” (as a line from “Macabre Candor” goes), then you’re in for a sinister treat. (“My Riot,” “Blood Sirens,” “Conquer and Divide” and “Broken” are four other tracks to pulverize your eardrums until you cry out for Bon Iver.) The dual vocal approach — Chuck Billy’s ungodly barks and Steve Souza’s furious snarls — is a point of interest. Also, the obvious nod to old-school thrash metal. With these ingredients on the recipe, why go overly introspective over a side project that seems to have put more emphasis on having fun than exploring new avenues of creativity? Dublin Death Patrol is so brutal the United Nations or Amnesty International should be paying attention. (Verdict: Three and a half stars)

Perversely cute

After watching Ted, a movie about a talking, pot-smoking, whore-humping teddy bear named Ted (duh), Charmaine and I became instant fans. She now wants a Ted teddy bear (perhaps a merchandise from the movie), while I go a step further — I want Ted himself! Sorta like Giovanni Ribisi’s character in the film. Will stop at nothing to take possession of the adorable little fucker.

Anyway, Ted is from the same demented genius (Seth MacFarlane) that gave the world Family Guy and American Dad, so expect the same twisted, raunchy, adults-only humor. It has a happy, feel-good ending… but it’s the bawdy parts (and Mila Kunis!) that bring this baby to the finish line.

Rainn on my parade

Because it’s downtime at work and I feel like writing about serious, scholarly stuff. Like Hollywood comedians.

I have a beef with Rainn Wilson. I don’t find him funny at all. I think he’s stealing roles from Jack Black, who’s never unfunny in my book. Either that, or Rainn is just picking up roles Jack had rejected, although Jack doesn’t look the type to turn down roles unless perhaps extremely necessary. I once saw him in a children’s show called Yo Gabba Gabba, and despite the fact that he was garbed in a silly orange suit there, dancing and singing and bouncing around like a human beach ball, he was actually giving his all, like his whole career depended on it.

The first time I made that impression against Rainn Wilson was after watching the 2008 movie The Rocker. In that film (which also stars a younger looking and then-virtually unknown Emma Stone), Rainn plays a bitter ex-rocker who quit the music business after being booted out of the band he co-founded. If that role sounds familiar, it’s because Jack Black played it in School of Rock five years prior. In fact, as I was watching The Rocker, part of me was convinced Rainn was imitating Jack, only not doing a very good job of it. But I could be wrong. Maybe he’s just naturally lame.

Tale of two onscreen rockers: Rainn Wilson (L) in ‘The Rocker’ ends up a poor duplicate of Jack Black’s character in ‘School of Rock.’

That’s not the end of it. Last night I saw Super (2010), where Rainn is a lovelorn cook who creates a superhero alter ego named Crimson Bolt to save his wife (Liv Tyler) from the clutches of a drug syndicate. When I saw him in his ratty superhero costume, I remembered Jack as a fat Mexican wrestler in Nacho Libre, and thought, Darn, this dude has done it again, playing a role that should’ve gone to Jack. Jack could’ve injected more tragic humor into that poor-ass superhero role. With Rainn, the character was just… tragic. And so is the movie. Super convinced me to skip the next Rainn Wilson film that may come my way.

Megasonic madness

Megadeth dwarfs the storm outside with 17 songs of pure face-melting thrash metal. (Photo by Sidney Macalinao)

It was madness alright. Commuting to the World Trade Center — virtually the other side of the planet if you live in Antipolo — one stormy Sunday night when everybody’s advised to stay home and be safe.

The couple that rocks together

But it was beautiful madness, even when on the wee hours of Monday we found ourselves in a Wendy’s branch in Makati City with the place plunged in darkness, and wind and rain battling for supremacy outside. It was a perfect, if not surreal, way to end a night of merry mayhem. Almost a complete week had gone by and I have yet to come down from that natural high.

It was all worth it. The freaky weather, the distance between home and venue, the long line that we had to endure before entrance — they seemed mere trivialities when Megadeth ripped through their 17-song set that consisted of old and new materials. (Noticeably missing were “Mechanix”  and “99 Ways to Die,”  but they did “A Tout Le Monde” and “Trust” so I’m not complaining.) In fact, the moment the band kicked off with “Never Dead,” everything outside became insignificant.

Minor issues with the setlist aside, the crowd, hungry for a foreign metal act of this caliber, lapped up every note and venom Megadeth unleashed with megasonic fury. All around people were singing, pumping their fist, jumping, moshing, flashing the devil’s horn. Camaraderie was expressed; I felt like part of a big sweaty heavy metal group hug. It was the most energetic and wildly passionate crowd I’ve seen in all my concert-going years. Vocalist/band leader Dave Mustaine couldn’t help but admit being “impressed” by the warm reception, and apologized for not coming to Manila sooner.

With photos from Dennis Mendoza, Nicole Quintana

Definitely the best concert I’ve been to so far, the memory of which something to chew on for good vibes in the coming days. I’ll be singing paeans to this for weeks to come… or until Metallica or Slayer comes over and dishes out an equal, if not better, hellraiser. Here’s hoping for that.