Friday, March 4, 2011

hank speakin' the truth.



http://blogs.laweekly.com/westcoastsound/2011/03/henry_rollins_column_16.php#more

It's really cool to hear someone who's done so much for independent music and lived through the annals of changes within the music industry (and its total decline into mediocrity) still be stoked on new music and still plugged in to what's happening in the underground. At 50 years old. Bravo.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

coffinworm / thou / overpower



This Sunday, March 6th in Indianapolis. Click the image above.

Monday, February 28, 2011

some records for sale.



I'm heading out to Portland, OR in a few months for a week long vacation and looking to stack as much cash as possible for an epic trip. Starting to thin out my record collection. Some choice slabs are up for auction here: http://shop.ebay.com/prince_pamparius/m.html?_nkw=&_armrs=1&_from=&_ipg=&_trksid=p3686. More to come.

Friday, February 18, 2011

downloading and a larger discussion of culture.

I recently came across a music blog that has a FLAC version of my band Coffinworm's album posted for free download. For those who may not know, FLAC stands for "Free Lossless Audio Codec" which essentially means it's an exact copy of the original audio recording in full-quality. While all of us in the band agreed to not pursue people posting the album for mp3 download (it happens and sometimes it's more of a help than a hurt), seeing something that we worked hard on for several years from inception and that our label, Profound Lore, pumped a chunk of money into making a reality being offered up for free pisses me off.

Coffinworm have never necessarily been opposed to downloading. In fact, it proved a very effective way to spread our demo and reach a lot more people than we could have otherwise. That being said, there's a trend of irresponsibility on the part of the (formerly) music buying public that has bred a sense of entitlement when it comes to this practice. I'd wage a guess that almost any music fan who's internet savvy by this point has directed their browser to Google, typed the name of a band or album followed by 'Mediafire', and promptly copped some new music. We've all done it, but after that point it's what you do in order to support the band that counts. Liking someone's record doesn't do a damn thing if you didn't help support the label (who paid for it to be manifested) and/or the band (who spent countless hours/days/weeks/years to conceive that aural document that took 3 minutes to steal) in a tangible form. I'm talking snaps. Dollars. Euros. Yen. Now, is everyone able to pay for every album they like? No, of course not and that's part of the beauty of the shift to discovering new music through music blogs or trading mp3s with friends – you are able to be exposed to a lot more than you might have been previously. It does, however, leave a question unanswered: "How much is art really worth?" By that, I'm not talking directly in terms of capitalism, but on a personal level. Art evokes a response or a connection that all of us can participate in (regardless of how it personally affects us). Based on that connection or response, we decide what value to place on said art whether it's literature, music, etc. and there's two main facets to this that I see: Personal identification & our response of appreciation. Regarding the latter, in the traditional realms of western culture this generally means buying a physical format of the recording or book. Anymore that seems to have dried up into a smaller and smaller portion of folks. Home taping in the 80s & 90s is a footnote to what the internet has done to the music industry (both large and small labels) and thanks to the corporate infiltration of what used to be largely underground music (punk, metal, hardcore, and hip hop) musicians are trading decades of hard work and self-sustaining practices for a quick shot of cash and some free media hype. In the process, everyone involved in said scenes are affected as a new standard is being set and with corporate bucks behind videos, festivals, and even subsidized recordings all of which are being offered up for free. The problem of entitlement existed before this began, but this compounds it.

My point? In short, we need a new standard. Regression almost never produces favorable results (unless you're talking about Darkthrone), but continuing to 'plug in' to this alternate framework and metaphorically resting on our laurels will only lead to disastrous results. DIY still works. Embrace your community and create something within it. Share what you've created. Set a new standard and expose new people to those values. Support others and help them continue.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

recycling xtian garbage.



Best note I've ever received with a mailorder LP. Thanks, Hector!

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

internet.

Liquid courage for booger eaters.

Friday, January 7, 2011

stowaway.

Yesterday I discovered something I'd never truly put a name on...a thing I've carried with me since my childhood, something I've always kept at bay. Yet, over the past few years it's become a harder beast to keep in check: Despair. I seem to have always carried a darkness and formerly it was something that I was able to tame. In more recent times, it's become unruly and I no longer have been able to prevent it from rising to the surface. It scares the shit out of me sometimes. I've gone much of my adult life without feeling things...it's kept the bulk of my emotions at bay, and replaced the array of them with one: Anger. I burn (literally and figuratively) every day. My body feels like it's wrapped in a wool blanket I become so hot. Critical thinking shuts off. I become solely a reactionary being and in the last two years it's pushed me to the point of initiating physical altercations with a few complete strangers. 0 to asshole in no time flat. It's a complex thing to assess, because while I've always had the void it's never driven me to such an angered state and living within that frame of mind for several years has brought nothing but dissatisfaction, no hope, and self-loathing. Putting a 'face' on this thing, however, seems to have begun to break loose some of what tied me to it. Crawling out of the hole...