May has seen me so far revert even further into the child/awkward teenager I will always be at heart, a step closer to being the manchild I plan on remaining until at least 30. Untill then, I’m going to listen to pop punk for reals, no irony, not for nostalgia, for here and now. I think I peaked in maturity at around 17 or 18, and since have been heading backwards at roughly the same rate. By this logic, at 30 I will have the mental age of roughly a 6 year old, and am greatly looking forward to a return of plastic lunchboxes and “keepsies”.
To musically embody this, this week, I have been listening to a ton of Amy can Flyy, a band who are the purist manifestation of the sunshine, happiness and general wellbeing of the south of England, and being a cheeky bedridden boy. Continuing with the pop-punk theme that Forever The Sickest Kids began last week, but taking it from a mental age of 16 to 14. This video is super cute, except maybe the rather rapey bassist at 0:35…..
Further with the happiness, I have been listening to a shit load of this Christian Hardcore band called Close Your Eyes. They are possibly the most subjectly uplifting and optimistic band I’ve ever encountered, with songs like “Friends are Friends Forever”, and lines like “You don’t think anyone can get you out of your mess, but I will be here untill the bitter end”. I don’t think they’res a single bit of negativity in the whole thing, but at the same time it’s kina heavy, which gives the whole album a really cool feeling of juxtaposition. Most of the songs are probably about Mr Jesus (#mosh4christ), but who cares, they’ve got a rare marriage of happiness and energy, which gives it all a great vibe for the morning. Christians seem to be all about the hardcore these days, I guess it’s in line with the whole straight edge way of things. Anyways, feels good, and makes me feel happy about trust, friendship and family.
Now, to return to the North of England, and hence shun warmpth, sunlight, and happiness, I’ve been reppin’ Manchester’s very own Ingested, especially the opener to their album “Surpassing The Boundaries of Human Suffering”, “Skinned and Fucked”. I fucking love the slams in this song, and the way that the bass drum is obscenely loud in the mix, clicking away, making everything ultimately sound like standing next to a dog barking next to a typewriter. There are some awesomely heavy slam riffs here, and in general, Ingested are at a level that only few bands make, courtesy mostly from the inhuman feet of drummer Jeff Lyn. Incidentally, he managed to lay down their entire album (9 songs) in only one day, which is quite a feat considering the level of the drumming. Another fun fact, this song almost got me kicked out of my maths exam this January, when it started playing as my ringtone, sending clicky bass drums resonating around Manchester Academy. Luckily, no one was really sure what the noise was before I shut it off, much less gather that it was actually a phone, so I was able to get away with that one. Anyway, behold the Northern lords of Wigger Slam.
Due to the current confusing subcultural trends in metal right now, and the subcultural make up of Manchester, as well as phrasing it in a way you normals will understand, these guys are actually closer to “Chavs” than standard metalheads.
And to end on an equally heavy, arguably heavyer note, I have the song “Beyond Bludgeoned” off the new, yet-to-be-released-but-I-have-heard-it-already-and-its-ok-but-not-as-good-as-the-first, Brain Drill album. American Technical Death metal. Kind of like Ingested, but with more twiddleing, more bits where it stops and then starts again, more confusing timings, and fatter, more nerdy people. Tbh I prefer the straight up and more slammin’ nature of Ingested, but the new Brain Drill still holds its own in the name of soulless blast fests/riff salads.