The Bad Rock/Punk/Metal Music Writing Drinking Game

In case you haven't noticed, the writing people tend to do about rock-variant forms of music is almost universally awful. Here's a guide to a drinking game to make it a little bit better. Or worse.

Take a drink whenever the article invokes nostalgia.

Somehow, I miss the metal elitism of days past.

Take two if it invokes nostalgia for times that were only slightly not worse than now, in the writers esteem, just so they can establish curmudgeonly-ness.

The prototypical metal nerd was the type of person who wanted to push the boundaries of how crazy-fast they could play a song. These days, it seems so quaint, seeing that lanky pony-tailed dude in Guitar Center pull off overwrought arpeggios, telling everyone around about his new band. He was the archetypical punisher; if you mistakenly took the time to compliment him, he would somehow loop you into a 15-minute conversation ending with his critique of Devin Townsend’s latest output, and the production conceits found within the record. While it was a world I never spent too much time trying to explore, there was a comfort knowing that it was all out there if one ever wanted to engage in it.

While that track of metal went by, metalcore chugged along, capturing the hearts and minds of impressionable teens throughout the world. Also something easily ignorable, that scene relied on comparing dope 808 bass drop-drenched breakdowns threaded under dudes with really nice hair screaming at you in some dingy club in Orangevale, CA. Also, a scene of people you really never need to engage with unless you want to. But something terrible has happened. The streams have crossed, and a revolting freak of a genre has been unleashed onto the world. Instead of some compound word that takes two genres and fits them together like a puzzle, instead it takes form in the dumbest subgenre name to ever rear its head: djent.

Take a drink when an influential band is described as being somehow way better than the bands that supposedly copy them, as though the bands that are supposedly following so closely to their original formula are also somehow incredibly perverting it through what alterations they do add. And yes, that does mean you have to drink almost continuously through any article concerning At the Gates.

That’s why the idea of djent is such a fucking bummer. Even when Meshuggah had that one album that was literally one song extended to fit a full-length, they were able to employ subtleties in order to make a cohesive unit of an extended piece of work. But each band that plays the same down-tuned, lameass songs do so with very little care as to delicacy of a song, or even differentiating oneself from the rest of the pack.

Take a drink if Warped Tour is mentioned, as Warped Tour, in the eyes of Mature Adults™ is the venue for terrible bands that only teenagers like, and given that teenagers were responsible for propagating the popularity of acts like Black Sabbath, Metallica, Nirvana, Pantera, and At the Gates, they’ve clearly had an incredible negative effect on the history of metal music alone, not to mention punk rock.

The groups would love to be in the same conversation as other technical metal titans, yet the highest accolade they could achieve would be a spot in the Fleshlight stage at Warped Tour. In short, the genre is trite as hell, and it’s time for this shit to stop.

Take a drink if the writer blames a popular band themselves for less talented musicians copying them, as though we can genuinely blame Bathory for the existence of Burzum.

I retract my earlier statement of Meshuggah being to blame for all of this. Really, the fault lies squarely on the shoulders of Periphery. As soon as these dudes came out of the gate, every two-bit guitar player started copying the hell out of them.

If the article is about metal, take a drink when Emmure is namechecked as a negative comparison, as though a melodic prog-metal band with what amounts to a classy pop singer can in any way be compared to Emmure.

Upon first listen, you may think to yourself, “Wait a minute, what’s with that rhythm of boring, hum drum chug riffs? I thought I was listening to a technical band, not Emmure!”

Finish the entirety of your alcoholic beverage, whatever quantity of alcohol that beverage represents if Hot Topic is named in any way, for the exact same reason you drink when Warped Tour is mentioned. Also take a drink when writers suggest that when you remove definitive elements of a genre all you have is the generic stuff, because clearly that demonstrates how "generic" supposedly generic music is, as though you could call Yngwie Malmsteen a plagiarist by saying "Well if he wasn't playing it on an electric guitar . . ."

See, that’s the funniest part about this whole scene. If you remove the off-time guitar parts and the boring noodly bits, the track is reduced to your standard fare of Hot Topic-core scene metal.

Take a drink when mid-2000’s emo is mentioned, as though the writer missed their opportunity to rage against it when it was most likely to make them a respected arbiter of musical taste during high school.

Breakdowns, lame-o scream-sing tradeoffs, and not much else make this band sound like Saosin covering Meshuggah at a high school talent show. At least the new singer is pretty good when he’s singing? Too bad when he’s not fronting this shit-heap, he’s the new frontman of reunited old school emocore band From First to Last. A great feather to add to the cap of shit genres.

If the article is about metal, take a drink when Limp Bizkit is namechecked as a negative comparison, as though a melodic prog-metal band with a clearn singer can be compared in any way to Emmure. Drink even more when you realize that this means that writers are still trying to make fun of bands by connecting them to the legacy of nu-metal in 2014 long after the metal youth has so agreed that nu-metal was, in fact, quite enjoyable, that Slipknot's new album is an anticipated event and many metal bands are starting to incorporate elements of nu-metal, or are reviving the genre outright.

Anyways, Volumes is probably the Limp Bizkit of the pack,

Spit at the screen when the writer attempts to claim that Limp Bizkit have any kind of self-awareness.

though the LB at least has an aspect of satire to themselves.

Wipe off the spit and realize that the writer uses the word "dope" to positively describe something in 2014, and ponder how old an intern at a popular music site could possibly be.

At least the dog is pretty dope?

Take a drink when the article describes bands you listen to and/or enjoy that seem to indicate that they have no clue what they're talking about, as though SikTh's dual hardcore-styled vocalists, 2006-style breakdowns, or use of diatonic melody could ever be described as being in any way similar to Meshuggah.

Sikth (or SikTh if we’re being technical) has always been Meshuggah’s annoying-ass little brother. Take the shittiest elements of Deftones (and somehow not the 8-string guitar they employ)and  a little bit of grindiness a la Daughters, and you have Sikth. A true grandfather of the genre; being an inspiration for all other hacks to come together and have a fair shake at glory.

Ponder what parallel universe where the Deftones sound like Meshuggah.

Take a drink when the writer forcibly inserts Attack Attack! into the story years after the band has broken up just so he can link the much-maligned band and the other bands in the article he wishes to disparage and take self-congratulatory post-mortem potshots,  because ad hominem I guess.

In the band’s last breath, Attack Attack! attempted to also cash in on the subgenre, but fucked up royally.

Finally, take a drink when the writer suggests the inevitable, that this trend will come to pass (as though a genre named for a guitar tone will be the end of music history) despite the fact that some of the musicians talked about in the article have been major players in metal for well more than a decade now, such that the legacy of the big bands like Meshuggah, Periphery, and yes, Attack Attack! (with the countless follow-up bands that have emerged and gained popularity) are at this point, totally secure.

Attack Attack!’s fate should be a cautionary tale to all “djent” bands: this shit isn’t going to last. Jocking a band’s style so hard to the point where it creates a new genre, really isn’t anything new. We saw it in the early 2000s when tons of metalcore bands started using At The Gates riffs in their songs, and ten years later, people have moved onto a new band to copy. Really, djent looks to be on its last legs. There really isn’t anywhere else for the genre to move. So we ask of you, please just hang up the guitar and go back to the drawing table.

Take a drink, then take loudrock music writing back to the drawing table.

• Austin C. Howe, Maryland, 2014

Favorite Games By Console (for Fun)

Nintendo Entertainment System: 

Ninja Gaiden

Indicative of the era it came from in a lot of ways. Narratively nonsensical to the point of outright surrealism, some of the absolute best chiptune music, solid color palette. The design starts of really solid and it helps players get a feel for the special variety of challenges the game is gonna throw our way, but things really start to fall apart near the end, especially in the infamous Act 6-2, which contains a platforming segment most easily completed by despawning the enemies.

SNES: 

Terranigma

I love this game because it’s an utter fucking mess, but also probably one of the most directly compelling I’ve ever played. If nothing else, Terranigma displays the Super Nintendo at the absolute peak of it’s aesthetic abilities. The graphics and sprite work here demolish even the likes of Chrono Trigger, and the amazing music is perfectly crafted to what sounds good on the SNES soundcard. The story, messy as it is, can only be described as moving, a story of such gigantic scope as really fits the medium quite easily.

Genesis: 

Castlevania: Bloodlines

Masterful execution of traditional game design ideas matched with a gooey, gorey aesthetic and a fantastic soundtrack packed into 7 tight, concise levels. A game you could find me playing any day of the week. A little more restrictive than the free-wheeling Super Castlevania IV and a little less restrictive than Castlevania III: Dracula’s Curse. My favorite overall VintageVania.

N64: The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time

The masterpiece of conservative games, both in design and, unfortunately, politics. A clever synthesis of systems and narratives concerning the hard work and sacrifices of heroism laced into 7 really good dungeons and one tragically horrid one. A lame pick I’ll admit, but it’s the only N64 exclusive I’ve ever played more than once.

PS1:

Final Fantasy VIII (overall favorite)

An actual smart game about teenage romance, masculinity, and mental illness accompanied by some of Nobuo Uematsu’s best compositions . . . with one of the roughest starts in the series. Look, the first five hours of this game are a grind, but after that it’s just the smooth joy of exploiting the shit out of massively broken systems accompanied by moments of quiet introspection. I have written more in depth about this and I will do more so in the future, but Final Fantasy VIII is my favorite videogame of all time.

Dreamcast: 

I have a favorite Dreamcast game? 

But actually 

Sonic Adventure 2

I have always been thoroughly unimpressed by most of the Dreamcast library and I find it by far the most over-celebrated collection of games, but I do genuinely love Sonic Adventure 2. If nothing else because never before has such a legitimately great game also been in equal parts so genuinely awful. More importantly, the ideas that make levels in SA2 fun to play are genuinely foreign to formalist 101 rules of design about how to create challenge. A game I really have yet to parse despite a near decade of revisits and replays.

PS2: 

Legacy of Kain: Defiance

An oft-criticized, inconclusive finish to a series that was always wondering in moral ambiguity. Defiance is both the most enjoyable LoK game to revisit, and brings the subtexts about race and antitheist existentialism boiling to the surface in dramatic fashion. The game’s weakest feature might be that it reuses so much music from the series’ previous games, but I always felt that it gave them game a sense of history when that is a large part of what the game’s narrative is concerned with. Or maybe it’s just nostalgia. :)

PS3: 

Metal Gear Solid 4

As James Howell once confided to me in private, “Metal Gear Solid 2 squared.” A game that criticizes and deconstructs the techniques of remixing and reiteration through which MGS2 and MGS3 (which it should be noted is just as “postmodern” as every other MGS game) created familiarity and textual meaning, arguing that the whole process of regurgitating the ideas that made the previous 3 games make sense could no longer be compelling, and thus remixes some of those ideas where they don’t make sense: Johnny re-enacting the role of the Cyborg Ninja during one scene is a primary example. And as well, the game also looks gorgeous and has some of the most exciting stealth, setpiece action, and bosses in the entire series. Even the dialogue is good in this game after the work Kojima put into making MGS3 a more “traditional” story. An absolute perfect game, in my humble opinion.

On "Embody the Invisible"

Here's an essay I wrote a few months ago that was intended to be the start of a Tumblr project about heavy metal lyrics. I haven't had the time to write new stuff or the same ease as I had analyzing this song though. I do want to write more lyrical analysis in the future, including definitely more In Flames songs. Hope you like this.

"Embody the Invisible" by Anders Friden (In Flames)

Today’s selection is the song "Embody the Invisible" from the In Flames album Colony with lyrics by Anders Friden, the band’s frontman. I personally consider Friden to be possibly metal’s best lyricist, and I forecast that much of this blog will focus on his work.

The song opens with two seemingly contradictory ideas.

I demand nothingbut I want it all

But we should pay attention to the specific contrast between “demand” and “want”. To “demand” is to insist. Demanding is active. Wanting however, can be passive. We all want things, but often pass through life largely not having all or most of what we want. To “demand nothing” but to “want it all” is to realize that one is filled with desire, but that we are entitled to absolutely none of it, as god is often cruel. And to actively state that “I demand nothing, but I want it all” is to demonstrate a longing for an ideal. These opening lines use desire, and how those desires go unanswered, to demonstrate a basic human suffering.

The next lines elaborate on this difference between the ideal and reality:

What privilege do we haveunder the sunthat gives us the right to the throne?
Again, a choice of two words whose differences are subtle and meaningful. Whereas a “right” is something that is always deserved and cannot be taken away, (at least in theory,) a privilege is a special condition, it is temporary.

For a moment, I want to try an exercise. Read the three lines, now read them while omitting the phrase “under the sun.” To me, the phrase becomes more empty. We have to read more into it (for example I have to explicitly identify “we” as “humanity”) for the meaning that the three lines have together to become clear. So what makes the phrase “under the sun” so important?

I read it this way: the sun is a life-giving force. It is also a constant presence, even in the night, as the light from the sun reflects on the moon to somewhat brighten the night. In other words, we owe everything to the sun, in some fashion. We are subordinate to it. In these lines, the sun is presented as being basically analogous to god.

Thus, when we take the three lines together, we can read it as a statement that, since we lack the life-creating power of something as deified as “the sun” (in this context), then we also have no right to control ourselves the way this omnipresent power does.

Thus, when we read the two “stanzas” (if you will) together as a verse, we get the idea that our wants and desires create real suffering, but that those wants and that suffering are trivial compared the scale of the universe, which is expanded on in the next verse.

Species come and goBut the earthstandsforever fast
All river runstowards the sea
but the sea is never full

These stanzas are comparatively simpler than the first two, both simply meant to demonstrate a sort of scale to existence. The first speaks to the existence of the earth being so much longer than the existence of the life on it. (Which we know includes the human race.) The second demonstrates a sort of “infinite” quality. Less meaningful on their own, these stanzas expand on the idea of scale that the first verse presented which contextualizes human suffering as being small compared to the vast, seemingly infinite life of the sun that gives us life, the oceans that sustain us, and the planet we live and die on.

But though this demonstrates a kind of futility to our wants, it does not erase the suffering that that want creates. Friden CONTINUES:

To discover the loneliness
and be too proud to show the wounds
will forever wander alone through the years

When we ponder on the scale of the universe which our petty suffering exists in, we see ourselves as being part of a vast, uncaring cosmos. We “discover the loneliness.” And yet, in attempting to simply live out our everyday lives, we become “too proud to show the wounds,” that is, we put up a facade of strength to hide our hurt, and thus we face this suffering alone with a CONTINUED unsuredness about our purpose in life.(“Wander alone through the years”)

But I won’t let you nearBeggingBegging for you to understandThe fearthat lives in my soulwhich is an untappedspring
These lines demonstrate in, hiding our “wounds” we often alienate ourselves from others who suffer from a similar sense of existential suffering, but at the same time, to do this is to put the onus on those around us to “understand” our suffering without letting on too much, for fear of feeling weak.

The second half of the stanza is somewhat ambiguously worded, but I choose to read it as the “soul” being “an untapped spring” rather than the “fear,” as it reads as fear inhabiting the soul, our fear of the unknown, which prevents us from accessing joy, wonder, or other positive ways of relating to the universe.

So in finding this contradiction between the all-consuming nature of our fear and sorrow, and at the same time realizing the smallness of that against the scale of all of existence, is there anything we can do to reconcile?

ReadWhat is written on the silent mouthwhat is written in the soulfor which is written in the shining silence we all have to read
This is less a suggestion by Friden and more an observation. Humanity has, of course, always had ways of attempting to contextualize itself in the vastness of existence, and that has usually been through some form of spirituality or faith. But that said, we have no way of knowing that these supernatural forces we intend to communicate with, be it god, allah, or some nameless force of life in the universe, even actually exist. So for Friden, who in this and many other songs seems to struggle with his own sense of spirituality, these unknowable divinities are like a “silent mouth” that refuses to respond to our attempts to have a place in existence. And the “shining silence,” in a related way, is a suggestion of all of the potential beauty and meaning that remains unspoken as a result of god’s refusal to speak. And yet, for us to attempt to find a place, we all “have to read.” When performing the song, the last and first “read” are the same, suggesting “we all have to read what is written on the silent mouth” etc.

My body will be bent from the burdensWhen the shaking floor of life-force
reveals it’s chasm underneath
if only one could be two steps ahead
In this last verse, Friden concludes on the discomforting thought that this struggle to find our place in the universe never really ends, and that answers may never fully appear. At the end of life our bodies “will be bent from the burdens” of living, and life will give out from under us to “reveal it’s chasm underneath,” and we will only be able to wish we had more foresight.

Having concluded ANALYSIS, I turn back to the title of the song, which is not a phrase that appears in the actual lyrics to see if our understanding of the song increases our understanding of the title, and I’d say it does. To attempt to “read what is written on the silent mouth” is to “Embody the Invisible” in a sense, because ultimately, we find ourselves speaking for the unseen and the unknown in our desperate attempts to find greater meaning.

As someone who struggle with faith and spirituality, having largely abandoned it, I relate deeply to how “Embody the Invisible” portrays that lifelong struggle for meaning in the context of all existence. Like many of In Flames’ songs, Friden’s lyrics for this one deal with that struggle with maturity and depth, and it remains perhaps his greatest lyrical achievement on one of IF’s strongest musical effort.

That maturity and depth defies our stereotype of metal, especially extreme metal, and gives us more than enough proof that literary genius exists in the minds of some of these writers that has long remained unobserved.

- Austin C. Howe, Maryland, 2014

Steve Gaynor is my dad I guess

https://storify.com/AustinCHowe/steve-gaynor-is-my-father-apparently

Article on Chrono Trigger in Memory Insufficient

I wrote an article for Zoya Street's Memory Insufficient about one of the many, many things I dislike about Chrono Trigger, and you can read it here. Thanks for checking it out.

- Austin C. Howe, Maryland, 2014

On Drake's "Trophies"

Drake is basically the biggest thing in rap right now. We've all come to accept that right? I think when even Kanye West, the biggest ego and most important rapper of the 00's says now that Drake has overtaken him in sheer popularity that we can crown Drake the king. (Note: I realize also that there's a man who calls himself "King Kendrick" but, personally speaking, I'm not impressed by such blatant power grabs by rappers with so much left to prove.) Even if you hate Drake, you're talking about him, arguing about what he signifies.

The point is, Drake knows this. He knows he's on top. So what do you do if you're Drake? Ruminate on that. Thus, enter "Trophies." The title is already typical rap provocation: he won, now he's collecting, and in the verses he does just that, talking about ordering drinks through a walkie talkie in a house so big that he hasn't seen his friends who live with him for two days.

But the chorus has substantive surprises that make the song a worthy addition to Drake's already canonical collection of self-reflection.

What's the move?

Can I tell the truth?

If I was doing this for you 

then I have nothing left to prove

This line almost comes off as weirdly defeatist, as though Drake has already achieved the best of what he can achieve as an artist, he's already proved that he's "Last name ever/first name greatest," and this contradicts the more jovial tone of the verses. The production reflects this, switching from the glorious trumpet blares to filtered synths, light piano textures and a seeming lack of percussion. Drake continues:

I'm just tryna stay alive 

and take care of my people

and they don't have no awards for that

Trophies . . . trophies

And they don't have no awards for that

this shit don't come with trophies

Ain't no envelopes to open

I just do it cuz I'm supposed to

This chorus is brilliant, and highlights a truth that artists rarely like to discuss: that at some point after great success has insured that art now pays your bills, that the grind of the artistic lifestyle can make it less of a passion and more of a job, even if an artist can continue to create great work. And whereas this revelation might come off as insufferable from someone else, Drake remembers why it is that people choose that lifestyle: he has friends and family who probably rely on his continued commercial success. And that's where he finds his motivation, and that's part of what makes this celebratory anthem, which could've been so bland, so memorable.

- Austin C. Howe, Maryland, 2014

On "Rude" by Magic!

"I'm Gonna Marry Her Anyway"

So first off, I’m going to note that this is a lyrical analysis first and foremost. I am neither a particular fan nor particular hater of reggae, and I cannot present any kind of legitimate commentary about the legitimacy of 4 Canadians, (3 of them white, and the lead singer being Pakistani) playing a form of Black Caribbean music. I will say that it is pleasant listening. The entire song revolves around the same chord progression simply being played in different arrangements from the verses to the pre-chorus and the chorus, with the verses being laid back, the pre-choruses emptying out the arrangement to guitar simple guitar chords and the voice, and the choruses featuring driving drums and a strong, but not overbearing presence of horns. In all honesty, there is nothing that special about it as a song, and without it’s vocal hook Magic! would likely still be languishing in obscurity.

“Rude” is also not about Rude Boys, a term used to describe young Jamaican reggae fans that has been co-opted into all sorts of shit. So what is it about?

“Rude” is a about a young dude asking a man for his daughter’s hand in marriage, and the guy says no, prompting the response: “Why you gotta be so rude?” I really like this line. Mainly becomes it actually comes off as something someone might say in this situation. Nothing horribly dramatic, just “why are you being an asshole?”

In 2014 asking a woman’s father if you can marry her is beyond outdated, as more than a few have pointed out. It strongly dehumanizes women in a really creepy way. So why would someone do it?

In the context of the song, it’s because the father of the bride-to-be is an “old-fashioned man,” and our protagonist has some respect for that, putting on his best suit before going to visit the man and ask him quite politely if he may marry his daughter. Despite the fact that he doesn’t need to, he’s making a gesture of good will to the father such that they might have a stronger relationship as father-and-son-in-law.

But the thing is, this is entirely a formality. Our protagonist is “gonna marry her anyway . . . no matter whatcha say.” And the father isn’t speaking for the daughter here either, as clarified by the second verse.

You know she’s in love with me

She’ll go wherever I go

And of course, if the young couple decides to get married, it’s not like the father isn’t going to show up to the wedding. He may be rude, but he’s not stupid.

Love me or hate me we will be boys

standing at that altar

So, again, the idea of even asking if he’s “allowed” to marry her is at best a formality that shows that our hero recognizes a cultural and traditional gap created by the age disparity between him and the father. It is not at all one he is required to recognize.

It begs the question: “Why you gotta be so rude?”

I turn my attention to a particular lyric in the chorus whose meaning is somewhat ambiguous: “And we’ll be a family.” Given the context of the chorus it obviously means that he and this girl will be a family, but of course, given that most of the song is about the relationship between the singer and the father, it could also be taken as implying that he and the father will be family, which is obviously true if he plans on marrying this girl. That only reiterates how nice it was of the singer to make this gesture in the first place, and how genuinely “rude” it is that he would deny his request.

By making this request, our hero is acknowledging something about this father that society is now better for deciding to ignore, but by denying this request, the father tarnishes their relationship before they’ve had a chance to build a strong relationship with each other. This does nothing to mar the jubilance with which the couple will marry, but it is something of a micro-tragedy that one can’t help but wish turned out differently. It’s a small story with a small idea that fits well in the context of a pop song.

- Austin C. Howe, Maryland, 2014