Friday, November 21, 2014


So the evening came and went and not too much happened to shatter the earth. Rose Thorn and I enjoyed a nice quiet night of reminiscing, watching old live footage and drinking wine. Apparently though, there was quite the kerfuffle online...

The lads at Witchdoctor Productions had been keeping the metalheads of this country waiting for long enough. Speculation has been rife for months as to who would complete the line up for next year's Witchfest. It seems a super efficient method for gathering information on who peoples' favourites are for future reference.

Then, after a few teasing "Tatadah-daaah!"s, they go and drop the bomb of all bombs. Cannibal fucking Corpse. Anyone who is anyone who has ever liked their deaf merrils on the heavy and burtals side had that quiet moment from the movie Green Street Hooligans when West Ham draws Millwall in the cup.

And then motherfuckers lost their minds!

And rightly so. Now let me put this into perspective for you. According to prevailing tastes and cultural notions, I am the furthest thing from a staunch merril head. I'd rather inject puppies with cyanide before subjecting myself to "Hail! Hail! Fail! Chainmail!" songs of slaying dragons and drenching wenches in mead or what the fuck ever. Similarly, I cringe at the thought of Trve Kvlt Blekk Merril with its rather limiting production value of being required to sound like was recorded on a four track Fostex in a jail cell. Don't get me started on the ridiculous face paint and assless leather chaps in the snow. The list of subgenres I don't care for is almost as long as the total list of subgenres. And I fucking hate Iron Maiden. Which should disqualify me altogether...

But I do recognise when something mind blowing is happening. To book the stellar list of local and international bands Shaughn Pieterse and Alec Surridge have managed is nothing short of miraculous and should warrant the eternal gratitude and respect of anyone who has ever found themselves in a moshpit or headbanging along to anything with overdriven guitars in it - regardless of specific style.

For the metal loving public, this could not be any more of a monumental accomplishment and event. For the local bands chosen to play alongside these legends, I can't even begin to imagine...

I'd like to single out a few friends of mine that have truly deserved this honour a thousand times over.

Adam Van Der Riet, Paul Blom, Ronnie Belcher, Adrian Langeveldt, Patrick Davidson, Jacques Hugo, Ian Watson, Bryan Villain and Wallace Warner. I could - and probably should - add names to that list, but I'm trying to keep it as select as it can be - and in so doing to recognise the massive contributions made by these individuals and to lend as much weight to this achievement as it rightfully deserves. Ladies, take a bow.

Also, it creates the illusion that I'm cool by association.

And on that rather manly note, I will leave you with the following thought...

Should the next cover my band does be 'I Wear My Sunglasses At Night' or 'My Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades'? They say there's no such thing as bad publicity.

NGDG: The upside of matitudinal gastric reflux is the super fast Internet. And this. This is funnier than Justin Beiber on fire.
[*Disclaimer: I'm unsure if I've used this quote before, but I'm too lazy to check.]

Spread The Love. Just Don't Use Cannibal Corpse Lyrics As A Handy "How To"...

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