Rockstar obituary: Jeff Hanneman

Wow. Less than a week after that heavy metal high that was Pulp Summer Slam XIII comes the ultimate letdown: Jeff Hanneman, guitarist and founding member of thrash metal titans Slayer, died Friday (Manila time) due to alleged drink-related liver failure. He was 49.

Really, wow. This genuinely saddens me. I may not be the biggest Slayer fan on the block, but I have the biggest respect for the band and have fond memories of their music.

I remember listening to Decade of Aggression at a friend’s place many summers ago. Nothing really special about that afternoon except the period: I was starting my teenage years, cranked up on that feeling of invincibility that one feels at that age, and Slayer — with Hanneman and Kerry King’s blitzkrieg guitar riffs and face-melting solos — was providing a fitting soundtrack to that. Slayer was also among the first bands I listened to when I wanted to feel “tough” and “evil” and to piss off the adults. Later I’d use their music to get over a particularly hellish day at the office.

They say the most unforgettable music in one’s life is the one he heard when he was a teenager. Hard not to spot sense in that wisdom.

Will be listening to Decade of Aggression all weekend.

Into the pit

I’ve been to mosh pits before, including its arguably more insane variant, the circle pit. But it was last Saturday night, at Pulp Summer Slam XIII, when I stayed in one the longest. By my estimate, I was probably at the pit during 90% of Cannibal Corpse’s 14-song set. I got bruises to show.

It wasn’t planned. I didn’t go to Amoranto Stadium seeking sadistic gratification. I went there to listen to live music, from bands I only see in magazines and on the Internet, to bang my head and perhaps do a little pushing and shoving, but only  at a safe spot and with my bros nearby. That, however, changed after a conversation with my tukayo, the writer Karl de Mesa, at the venue.

“Dude,” he said. “Slam ka?”

I gave him a safe answer: “Not sure.” And then I threw him the same question.

“Nope,” he blurted. “I’m too old for that shit.”

Understandable, I thought. Like me, he’s well into his 30s and isn’t exactly one may call “athletic.” Still, his retort got me thinking. Am I too old for that shit too? The question — and its thinly veiled challenge — burned and festered in my head. It nagged at me. It made me uncomfortable. The English power metal band Dragonforce cried thunder in front of us, but half my concentration was on that question.

I figured there was only one way to find out, and the realization made my amygdala, the “fear center” of the brain, kick into high gear. Those who say there’s no harm in trying aren’t talking about mosh pits.

Drugged

Copy-pasting this review of Work Drug’s Tropic of Capricorn because I’m too lazy/tired to write my own. Also, because it tells exactly what I feel about the band (one my awesome music finds in 2012), particularly that part about how each track in the album is like “waves lapping the shore” or like the “sun setting over the ocean as you reflect on your day.”

“I live a cram-packed life. With the day job, school at night, writing (The Owl’s my fav, duh!), I’m always on the lookout for tuneage to lower my blood pressure and calm me down after a stress-filled day. I’m not talking about elevator music (Muzak, BLAH!), but something with a tight groove, mellow melodies, and soothing vocals. My newest find, Work Drugs hits the spot and then some.

This duo (sometimes trio) from Philly really knows how to lay the grooves, and their new album, Tropic of Capricorn is evidence of that. The album title alone lends a sense to what the music is geared for as each track feels like waves lapping ashore. Each is different, with natural crescendos that climax to a point where they gently whisk into the next. It’s hard to pin-point tracks in particular, but some of my favs are ‘Rad Racer’, ‘Third Wave’, and ‘Dog Daze’, which sounds like the sun setting over the ocean as you reflect on your day. Exactly what the doctor ordered.”

Ah, yes. Isn’t it nice when the reviewer tells us how the album really affects him/her rather than resorting to verbal masturbation?

The piece was written by Christopher Allen for The Owl Mag. Mentioning it here because unlike that one nasty comedian of a senator, I don’t plagiarize stuff.

Eargasm 2012: Disco, lust & whatnot

Catchy, hook-rich party rock rules my 2012

As with the case in 2011, my best album pick in 2012 isn’t from this year. It’s Partie Traumatic by the Black Kids, an indie pop gem from 2008.

Which is kind of strange, since 2012 is the year I listened to the most number of new albums, most of them from bands I’ve never heard before, like Pinback and Work Drugs and Hotel Diablo and dozens of others, covering various genres, from metal to indie rock to dream pop, to a smattering of sad bastard music. It’s just that, when I sit down and assess the previous months and think of a fitting soundtrack, it’s Partie Traumatic that immediately pops in mind. The fact that it’s the album that has stayed the longest in my iPod says something about it.

(It’s actually a tough choice between this and Candlebox’s Love Stories and Other Musings. But since I like to remember 2012 as one big helluva party, as opposed to a 12-month heartache, I picked Partie Traumatic. Yeah.)

Lana del Rey provided audio lust

Not to say, though, that the new releases suck. There are actually a lot of runner-ups, special for one reason or another: Napalm Death’s Utilitarian unleashed my pent-up angst and was for those nights I felt like breaking windows and faces. Ditto with Baphomet’s Death in the Beginning, which re-introduced blood and gore to my playlist, and Shining’s Redefining Darkness, an open invitation to suicide. I also remember how Anathema’s Weather System made my wife cry because of its sheer loneliness, how Work Drug’s Delta made my introduction to dream pop a trippy experience, how Lana del Rey’s Born to Die made me want to seduce teenage girls, how Muse’s The 2nd Law, Ball Park Music’s Museum and Pinback’s Information Retrieved made me wonder how these three bands missed my radar for so long.

And then there are the others, new and old: Rancid’s Let the Dominoes Fall  (2009); Sleeper Agent’s Celebrasion (2011); The Naked and the Famous’ Passive Me, Aggressive You (2010); Modest Mouse’s We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank (2007); Yo La Tengo’s Fade; Floating Action’s Fake Blood; Soundgarden’s King Animal; Jackyl’s Best in Show; Hotel Diablo’s The Return to Psycho, California; Shinedown’s Amaryllis; Neil Halstead’s Palindrome Hunches; Van Halen’s A Different Kind of Truth; Skunk Anansie’s Black Traffic; and the compilation album Re-Machined: A Tribute to Deep Purple. In one way or another, these albums — and many more that I may have forgotten — helped me survive this sad, mad roller-coaster ride that is 2012.

All in all, it has been a good year, music-wise, and I’m already excited about what next year will bring. If things go out as scheduled, there will be a new Black Sabbath album, their first with Ozzy Osbourne on vocals after so many years. Also, a new Megadeth. My ears can’t wait.