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Saturday, January 29, 2005

Some Kind of Documentary

Karissa & I just got done watching Some Kind of Monster (the Metallica documentary). It was kind of surreal watching these guys argue and pick at each other. The weirdest part was that although everyone knows how the story ends, you keep watching the documentary and letting yourself wonder if the band will make it throughout the month. It gave a little more insight into some of the controversial concepts like the absence of solos on the album and the Newsted quitting the band.
I still have to say that anyone who says they don't sound anything like they used to isn't really listening to the music. You can't just hear it on the surface or hear the first few riffs and dismiss it. I even like the different style they're going with right now, but I can still hear familiar chord progressions, similar attitudes, and I'll be damned if most of the riffs in Sweet Amber aren't 100% vintage Metallica (listen to the distorted part of the intro & the interlude--fast galloping riffs). I've fought with virtually every one of my friends on this and I think they'll just have to accept being wrong.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

Oh Christ, now me...

God damnit, I gave in and now I got a blog, too. I was thinking about one of April's recent entries about friends. I can see that same comfort with Kevin when he visits friends, too. Amadon's even commented about how they could go for a year without seeing eachother, and when they did it would seem like they had just hung out yesterday.
Unfortunately, I don't think I share the familarity. I had tried the past few years to build up what had fallen from my friends and I, and I have slowly come to the realization that we have all become different people. Kevin & April are still close to me, probably more so now since Karissa and I have started a family, not to mention the fact that we're more than likely going separate ways come Summer, and we want to get as much out of our friendship as we can right now before the distance kicks in.
It took me the longest time to realize that Amadon & I weren't the same friends we were before the millenium. Geez, when I think about it, that's been a long time. I do still think back on those times, but sometimes I hardly even recognize myself back then. Then again, what I did with duct tape and a trench coat six years ago, I did with a ranch burrito that had a nasty hair in it and a Fed-Ex package two years ago ("I made my mark," that's the answer, so stop trying to make the connection between a burrito and a trench coat).
Everybody in our old group (or maybe just central firgures) would think of "Glycerine" as our anthem of nostalgia, but I guess I would have preferred to think of either "Something I Can Never Have" or "Sweet Dreams." I mean, think about it. Aside from the fact that NIN became a huge part behind our life scenes, that song is filled with rage in grasping for something that's no longer there. We didn't have a real world back then, or rather, we didn't have an adult one--we lived in youth and celebrated every day. Looking back, our fights seemed a lot more childish and quickly resolved. I suppose I just get sick of having no one to play with. And as far as "Sweet Dreams" is concerned, just remember what fuckhead decided to play it as fast as he could over and over and over and over and over. But then again, I guess "Glycerine" seemed to focus on love and sex and a facsination over subtle physical details of someone's body. Being teenagers, that was all that was on our minds. Or, since he talks about skin and days going by, Rossdale could be talking about a chick who should use soap or some kind of oxypad on her skin. The "strawberry fields" are probably just break outs on her back. Or he could be singing about an FDA regulation...who knows?
I don't know...I've been feeling a little differently about music since Dimebag. I never had much patience for shitty music, but I think these days I actually feel like these are the people who should have died. I know I shouldn't say that, but where the hell do you put rage when your most effective and comforting outlet gets shot in the back of the head by a coward who called himself a Marine and passed himself off as a fan? It took me over a week to let myself listen to Pantera again, and I still can't watch any of their videos.
I'm probably just pissed because the past two years have been nothing but news about deaths of people I admire. Layne Staley, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, Dave Williams, and now Dimebag Darrell. Pete Steele's got some medical problems right now, he'll probably be next.
Sorry if anyone's reading this expecting it to be happy and light, but for what it's worth, it's not really supposed to be depressing, either. I've got a lot of thoughts that run around my head and keeping me up, and I don't feel like playing guitar right now.

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