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Yup, Buzzgrinder shirts. Just $10 (+$5 shipping). ORDER HERE.
The VICE release, This Is Next, got a 0.0 on Pitchfork and (according to Catbirdseat) had just 1000 in first week sales.
Units Shipped: 100,000
Units Sold: 1,014
The White Stripes played their first gig since 2005 in frontman Jack White’s new hometown of Nashville, TN. NME.com has a write-up on the event.
“Before launching into the title track for their forthcoming album Icky Thump, Jack asked the crowd “How’s my new hometown doing?” to an overwhelming response, but after that the duo got down to business, pounding their way through a set cherry picked from their five album back catalogue, as well as a few covers, including a crowd pleasing version of Dolly Parton’s Jolene.”
From the “this is the future of music journalism” bin comes this gem of a review of the new Haste The Day, Pressure The Hinges:
“One of the most popular Christian heavy metal bands is Haste the Day. It’s basically your standard heavy metal, except it’s about biblical stuff. At long last, Christian music fans can both rock out and praise the Lord. It’s a win-win!
Praising God mostly comes in the form of screaming for Haste the Day. The lead singer’s voice is sort of hoarse, though, so you can’t really understand what he’s saying.
He sounds like an angry guy with a bad cold, or, perhaps, rabies. But I’m pretty sure the fact that he sounds like he’s foaming at the mouth is just because he can’t contain his devotion.”
Jason Gardner of Echo Online (a college paper for Eastern Mich. University) rips the new Emmure - Goodbye To The Gallows album:
“Most of the disc involves heavy amounts of droning breakdowns, and is too predictable and repetitive to stand out in a crowd of similar and better bands. I said goodbye to this record fast.”
Mammoth Press hates the record:
“Buy a Deadguy record and stop supporting crappy metalcore bands.”
Punknews, too:
“Goodbye to the Gallows is one of the year’s most generic releases. If you live for the breakdown and want to get your mosh on, then you’ve found your next favorite band. But for the rest of us, this is just another reason why hardcore is become nothing more than a big joke.”
Jesse Peterson reviews The Sleeping - Believe What We Tell You (Enhanced), from Victory Records:
The enhanced version comes with a couple extra tracks and a DVD that takes too long to get to the menu. There’s also a farce on merchandise–which shamelessly promotes their merchandise–along with an intolerably long amateur documentary that made me give up on watching the rest. Seriously, I only get paid so much for one review.
The second time around, Believe What We Tell You isn’t any better … but possibly more annoying.
Michael Schwartz rips the latest Freya album, Lift the Curse:
“But all the original tracks lack guitar solos. The songs feel like they build up…to nothing. It’s a total letdown and detracts from the overall enjoyment of the music.”
Writer Zach Baron, on the production quality of this audio CD:
“Drums are no better than banging on a desk; the bass sounds like the lower half is missing; vocals are barely pronounced, let alone pronounced into a microphone.”
When all is said and done, a 6.5 is dished out.
This is either a review of the latest album from Isis, named In the Absence of Truth [iTunes], or the start of a thesis on modern anthropological studies:
“Named for Hassan-i-Sabbah’s garden, “Firdous E Bareen” is a montage that ostensibly approximates the feel of an acolyte coming to in the mountainous faux-Eden, thinking he’d died and been reborn…”
Word-usage aside, writer Brandon Stosuy gives the album an 8.3.
Mammoth Press gives The Devil Wears Prada - Dear Love: A Beautiful Dischord album a 2 out of 10.
“Another thing. Stop with the names that no one three years from now will get. We get it. You’re very “now,” but if you want people to think you’re more than just a cash in pick something that isn’t just a cheap pop culture reference.”
Pitchfork writer Marc Hogan gives the new Damien Rice - 9 album a 1.9 rating (in about 900 words).
“Rice assaults his coffeehouse milieu aurally, as well as lyrically: With its “my god!” squeals and sadistic, quasi-arty distortion, “Me, My Yoke, and I” is a break from the Rice mold– and helped me finally identify with The Passion of the Christ. Forgive him, dudes, for he know not what he do.”
But don’t let Pitchfork sway you - we have a swank Damien Rice Lithograph contest going on.
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