Saturday, June 29, 2013


So it took me almost 3 weeks to listen to Black Sabbath’s new album, and I’m ashamed. I decided to head into listening to this album a few ticks before midnight, fittingly unsober, and live-Tweet my experience. Below are my streaming thoughts.

  1. Here we go. "End of the Beginning." Sounds like the title track on Black Sabbath's self-titled. Just needs bell tolls.
  2. Ozzy should have asked himself all of these questions when he was making that dirty MTV money.
  3. Nice groovy riff reminds me of "Under the Sun." Entombed did a pretty crunchy cover of that I 1st heard as a "Same Difference" bonus track.
  4. Iommi can play that solo over and over while I do any shitty chore and make it look awesome. Heavy metal dish washing, here I come.
  5. Go get those higher register notes, Oz. Atta boy. Reminds me of when Tom Petty hit those "Freefallin" notes at the Super Bowl.

  1. "God Is Dead?" Only song I've already heard already, but this time it's about 400 times louder and I'm considerably less sober.
  2. This is really heavy, folks. And this vocal pattern is ultra catchy, even if Ozzy's voice has been fixed by robots.
  3. I like the idea of God and Satan on his shoulders. Those angels are like God's interns, no power. Go straight to the top.
  4. Forgot about this riff in the 6th minute. Makes me want to set myself on fire and ride a motorcycle to Hell's drive-in theater.
  5. Pretty sure there are too many voices in Ozzy's head for him to hear what one specifically is saying.

  1. "Loner" sounds like "Sweet Leaf" a little, huh? Like if they milked it of its swagger and made the guitars sound like RATM.
  2. Speaking of Rage, Brad Wilk was a great choice for this album in theory, but so far it's been really uptight.
  3. My top choices for drummers on this album: 1)Joe LaCazze/Eyehategod. 2)Kyle Spence/Harvey Milk. 3) Brad Wilk. And, oh yeah, Bill Ward.

  1. "Zeitgeist." So far sounds like if Rick Rubin was ruining a Pink Floyd song.
  2. This song would be so much better if Brooklyn band NAAM recorded it.

  1. "Age Of Reason." Did someone tell Wilk to sever all of the personality out of his drumming? That dude's good, what's going on here?
  2. Can hear a little of Edgar Winters' heavier stuff in this song. Makes me wish I was listening to "Frankenstein."
  3. Half-way through the third minute this gets interesting. Flashes of hardcore, at least it's an influence past 1974.

  1. "Live Forever." Depending on how you pronounce "live" it could also mean and endless concert.
  2. Vocals wayyyyy high in the mix. Too bad because this heavy bluesy momentum is formidable.
  3. When Ozzy says "Waiting for the rising of the moon" it made me picture him as a werewolf with round purple sunglasses.
  4. The doomy part of this song makes me think of "I Want You "She's So Heavy" from The Beatles. Way underrated heavy riff.

  1. "Damaged Soul." You should always buy shipping insurance before mailing a fragile soul. Common sense, Geezer.
  2. Sounds like an "End of the Beginning" remix meant as a soundtrack for tongue kissing in a dark smoky room.
  3. Most of these songs aren't bad, but Iommi is the only performer who sounds immortal on these record.
  4. 6+ minutes in, and the harmonica finally makes sense. I wanna wear fabric torn from a priest's robe as a bandana and rock out.

  1. "Dear Father." Lyrics sound serious, was hoping it was a letter penned in college asking daddy for drug money.
  2. Sounds like Geezer is doing some cool stuff in that mix, but Rubin hid the bass. SEEN AND NOT HEARD, BASS LINE.
  3. 4 minutes in the song grows balls, and then the vocals are so loud that they shrivel immediately.
  4. FINALLY, WILK SHOWS UP. These are the sort of loose, flashy, mostly unnecessary fills that made Sabbath a real rock band. Nice ending.

  1. “Methademic.” The intensity vanished for a little bit now, and this music would fit on Ghost's debut album, before they adopted BC.
  2. Not among Iommi's best solos on this album. Sort of sounds tired, like maybe blood sugar is low and he needs some yogurt or a banana.
  3. Song was crazy uneven, but a few of these moments are the hardest Sabbath has rocked on this album.

  1. "Peace of Mind." I'll take "obvious wordplay" for $100. And "uninspiring riffs" for $200.
  2. Another good Wilk performance at least, even though musically they sound more like Mr. Big than Black Sabbath right now.
  3. They need to either Jethro Tull it up with a flute or Focus it up with rock'n'roll yodeling. Oh wait, Focus had flute too. FOCUS IT UP.

  1. "Pariah." How dare Ozzy ever utter the words "addicted to sobriety," even if it's about someone else.
  2. These riffs would have fit in with Kansas before they tried turning into shitty arena rock and changed their name to Black Kansas.
  3. Clean guitar is only there to make the distortion sound heavier. It's like Bud Abbott to Lou Costello.
  4. Rhyming "pariah" with "desire" deserves a high five and a hug.
  5. ALBUM OVER. Inconsistent, but I had a good time. 6/10, would have a 7 if Rubin kept his beard out of everything.
  6. Also, I like the album cover just for reminding me of the Nicolas Cage/Neil LaBute "Wicker Man" shitshow of a remake. #BlackSabbath

So 6/10 isn’t bad, right? As expected, moments of inspired rock’n’roll and some of their heaviest riffs to date, but revisiting their best work (either unintentionally or on the sly) and the frustrating production from Rick Rubin knocked off a few points. I’m not too upset by the whole enterprise, and I’m not even mourning how I spent a Friday night. Adequate job, guys. Adequate job.

Friday, June 28, 2013


Oxxen, a Tennessean doom/sludge trio, sounds like the Chattanooga Choo Choo has derailed at the stroke of midnight and plowed through forests filled with man-eating black bears and haunted oak trees, leaving behind a wreckage of splintered wooden limbs, bones, and fur. While the band’s name reminds me of ill-fated computer expeditions along the Oregon Trail (I always had at least two oxen drown when I chose to ford a river), the music evokes everything from the hardest-partying stoner rock to the murkiest grunge in Seattle’s days of pre-exploitation.

Their self-titled EP kicks off with “This Shit Ain’t Exactly Thunderdome.” This shit is, however, heavy enough to give Tony Iommi a boner from a continent away. When the distortion hits it can collapse weak hearts, and there’s a punk energy in this music that spits blood and teeth into the crowd. When the songs reach mid-to-uptempo they feel like they’d be right at home playing with Black Tusk, Red Fang, or Orange Goblin. (Editor’s note: Just checked the band’s gig history and it looks like they have played, or will play, with Black Tusk. Solid.)

“Stoic Men Under Ancient Lord” swaggers with reckless grunge intensity, taking the heaviest moments of Nirvana’s Bleach and the Melvins’ Houdini and dressing them up with armor and a battle axe. It features Bill Robinson's best lead guitar work on the album, whose voice sounds how I’d imagine Kurt Cobain would sound if he was still alive. The same hoarse shout, tone deepened from years of drinking cocaine and snorting whiskey, only occasionally concerned with weak shit like pitch and melody.

Oxxen close with the album’s highlight, the 10+ minute “Riddle of Steel.” This song revs its engines as loudly as the best biker metal out there before slowing to a Cathedral crawl until the seventh minute, where they return to the punk riffing and gruff aggression that propelled the EP’s opener. Oxxen’s roots may reach into traditional doom and the spirit of Sabbath and Pentagram, but there is a fist-pumping, binge-drinking sense of immediacy and toughness to this release that gives me the hunch these dudes are a totally killer live band. Just because you can flatten a forest with your slowest riffs doesn’t mean you can’t chop the keg open with an axe and party sometimes.

This EP is currently FREE on Bandcamp, so check it out and throw them some bones if you enjoy it as much as I do:

And follow them on Facebook for future news on gigs and merch:

Thursday, June 27, 2013


Exactly one month ago I reviewed Grassroll’s EP, Gorilla Sized Social Problems. For those of you who need to clean the bong resin out of your brains to remember, they’re a promising Greek band who splices grind and sludge together into a filthy strand of infectious, groovy heaviness. I compared them to Soilent Green, and while I still see plenty of that dirty NOLA band in their sound, they have definitely expanded their attack with three new songs recently played live:

“Aggressive Minority”: Grinding hardcore punk that captures the raw energy of early Agoraphobic Nosebleed and Benümb. Annie is particularly brutal in this song, sounding a bit like Jon Parkin from Gaza as she barks to the barbed-wire riffs and blast-beats.

“All the European Capitals In One Second”: For some reason it takes about 2 minutes to prepare for this one, which is basically a 1 (maybe 1.8) second shotgun blast of noise that reminded me of Napalm Death’s “You Suffer” off of Scum.

“Blow For Job”: Stylistically, this is most similar to the songs from their EP. Battering grind collides with blackened stoner grime to form my favorite song I have heard from them yet. This song is totally vicious and makes me anticipate the two newest songs they’ve recorded (“Urban Slaves Asphyxia” and “Punished By the Martyrs”) even more. I also want to point out that the dude headbanging in the front deserves a red velvet cupcake for being 300% more metal than the rest of the crowd. He was there to rock, and Grassroll helped him achieve that. Well done, sir.

Check out Gorilla Sized Social Problems over at Bandcamp:

And follow them on Facebook here:

Tuesday, June 25, 2013


Hey perverts! It’s my birthday today so I’m gonna keep this delightfully short. Los Angeles-based DIY art zine Kung Fu Breakfast just released their ninth issue, this time focusing on fetish and the world of kink. My episodic short story “Killing Spree: A Love Story in Four Parts” was printed in the issue, heavily revised after I first wrote it 6 years ago with an added epilogue. My story is filled with thrill killing and blood-drenched sex, along with a soul-stabbing sense of existential gloom. If you read the transgressive works of the Marquis de Sade and Georges Bataille you might dig my little tale.

The issue also shares beautiful artwork from Kane Rors, Paul Ybarra (also responsible for the jarring cover), editor-in-chief Jay Kantor, and blog-favorites Brittany Bindrim and Caitlin Anne. Rachel Takiko’s featured piece “The Things I Didn’t Tell You” is absolutely worth your time, offering a very human experience with fetish and the person beneath the roleplay. It’s free to join Magcloud and download, so there’s really no excuse, unless you’re just way too busy reading about Kimye, and if that’s the case please drink this cocktail of bleach and Windex to the very last drop.

You can download the issue here (WARNING: ADULT CONTENT):

And check out Kung Fu Breakfast on Facebook. Like them, follow them, and comment on what pieces you enjoyed. It means a lot to the artists:

Monday, June 24, 2013


Last week I handed in a review of a recent metal concert to the editor-in-chief at Decibel Magazine. I was asked to describe 4+ hours of music and moshing in 450 words. While that was a challenge, the real kicker was that when I attended the show I wasn’t aware I’d be reviewing it later. This lead to many (MANY) beers beforehand. I’m proud of the final product, but I have no doubt my journalistic skills were severely corroded with each $1 PBR/shot of Jack I enjoyed over at Duff’s.

When I arrived at Pumps, the “anti-gentleman’s club” of Brooklyn, I was entirely dedicated to staying sober and reporting the events with unrelenting accuracy. Several empty shot glasses of Jameson later, here are my notes regarding the second performance of the Pumps Pinups, the burlesque ensemble lead by show director/creator Scarlett la Rosa. Some may be out of chronological order, because there was a strange whiskey stain (I hope?) on a few of the pages:

It’s 8:45 PM, I’ve perused the assortment of sexually-charged artwork (curated by the talented Aubrey Roemer) featuring blacklight paints, and I’m sipping a Bud while Jesse McCloskey’s charcoal drawing of a seriously unhinged witch stares at me from the wall.

Kat, who befriends everyone within thirty seconds and one smile, bartends the event with the lovely Vanessa. Kat tells me she’s “way ahead of me” and has downed several shot of Patron. She declines taking a shot with me, but changes her mind about fifty seconds later. Vanessa grimaces as she joins for a shot, with orange nails glowing in the dimness.

The girls take the stage and they’re breathtaking, all writhing against the three poles positioned on the stage. Scarlett la Rosa belts out a gentle version of Guns ‘N Roses’ “Sweet Child O’ Mine” with piano accompaniment (from Dom of the band Air of Ants). The hardcore band I drummed for in high school used to cover the song as well, but without the grace and originality.

Spank Sinatra summons the spirit of Jessica Rabbit by way of Etta James for a smoky, seductive version of “Why Don’t You Do Right?” Jessica Rabbit was my first crush, and it was deeply tragic when I learned I could not date, marry, or fuck a cartoon senseless. This song just reaffirmed my love for that bad girl, even if she was just drawn that way.

Gypsy Nyx follows with two smoothly sung songs, “Burlesque” and “All That Jazz,” while the smirking and exceptionally strong Harley Quinn stuns the audience with acrobatic pole dancing. Gypsy owns an effortless sultry confidence and sounds like she’d be perfect for a James Bond theme song.

Sophie Von Z  dances with the dangerous appeal of a Prohibition era speakeasy back room striptease. Transports me to a time where I need to whisper a password through a hole in a brick wall to a scarfaced lug in a fedora to earn entrance. Luckily, liquor is easier to come by now, and entrance to see Sophie Von Z is a modest $7 cover charge.

Spank Sinatra returns to the stage, declaring after some banter with Rockett that her drug of choice is “dick.” She launches into a crowd-pleasing number I will refer to as “I Want To Be Fucked By You,” a song that fills the air with howls, whistles, and (allegedly) semen. Pure brilliance, an ode to submissive sensuality and a blunt injection of libido that shows sometimes innuendo is totally overrated.

Shanlita Bandita graces the stage for the first time as a recently dumped dame swallowed by depression after her scumbag boyfriend left her at a liquor store. She haunts the stage with a flask and a solemn trench coat before attempting the world’s first suicide by water pistol. Luckily for all of us, her aim is horrible.

Sophie Von Z dances for everyone’s communal enjoyment again, in a new golden Romany-inspired outfit with a transparent black cape. It’s a more exotic performance than her previous song, and makes me hear the distant chimes of finger cymbals and ankle bells. She sizzles, all eyes locked on the stage.

Scarlett la Rosa breaks hearts with a gorgeous red over-bust corset. Maybe I’ve frequented too many Renaissance Festivals, maybe it’s my days as a high school goth, but corsets kill me every time. She nailed the mysterious femme fatale quality that made “Sooner or Later” so hot in “Dick Tracy.” Plus, she totally out-sings Madonna.

Shanlita Bandita gleefully comes back to the stage after her successful therapy: Discovering the joys of “returning to her white trash roots” with the pleasures of boxed wine. She dances with pep and passion, rocking platform converse sneakers with clear heels that seem nineteen inches tall. She ends her energetic highlight performance by drenching herself in wine from the box’s lecherous nozzle. It was like “Flashdance” for alcoholics.

More to drink. Harley Quinn in a (crotchless) cat outfit, wiping up the white wine from the ground. She also purrs across the bar top, gathering donations for the girls. I don’t know why men have a primal attraction to women dressed as cats. I tell my girlfriend I think all men are inherently open to beastiality because of this. She says that makes her nervous about us both sharing a pet cat. Shanlita shares the box of wine with adventurous audience members. The wine tastes amazing, which signals I am thoroughly blitzed. While the stage is being cleaned and swept, the blue-haired head-banging beauty (and co-MC) Rocket Shippes pleads, “Get that broom away from me, I’m horny.”

Ms. Quinn (who Rocket claims “puts the Bang in Bangladesh) charms the audience with an erotic calm and a punk rock aesthetic. Heavily tattooed and pierced, the ladies to my left both take note of how striking she is and talk at length about her appeal. I don’t hear much besides a murmured blur and a few key words because I’m too busy staring.

Spank Sinatra again, and she keeps outdoing herself. This time it’s like she crept into my morbid fantasies and mined it for images. She comes to the stage with dramatic skull make-up, looking like the attractive female version of Papa Emeritus from Ghost B.C., which doesn’t sound like much of a compliment until you realize I’m a huge metalhead. She destroys the crowd with a macabre version of the Screamin’ Jay Hawkins classic “I Put A Spell On You,” a song that burns with sex appeal and has never sounded more fiery. Her performance is hotter than a long fuck in a moonlit cemetery.

Pumps owner Andy walks through the crowd and reluctantly accepts applause as Rocket destroys with one of her many viciously awesome one-liners, saying, “He’s done more for us than our dysfunctional fathers.” He’s just as happy letting the girls have the whole spotlight, despite the success of the event in his venue.

Despite some audio issues, first-time Pumps Pinup Bianca Dagga sways in a red skirt before treating the eager crowd to a striptease. She ends the performance by igniting the ends of her pastie tassels and swirling them in a perfect ring of fire that’s way hotter than anything Johnny Cash ever sang about. Huge applause ends the show, everyone’s smiling, more drinks ordered.

This show is a helluva lot of fun. I understand not everyone is as open-minded or sex-positive, but this is celebratory entertainment and a true art form. There was no creepy leering, no heckling, just a crowd totally on-board with pretty girls using their various talents to make everyone smile and go home happy. If you read my interview with Scarlett la Rosa, then you know they all achieved exactly what they wanted. I have no doubt they will overcome the mild technical glitches and obstacles they faced during the show and delight everyone with another performance in the future. This is definitely the sort of creative spirit that made New York/Brooklyn a destination for artists and artistic expression. You can wander into any Starbucks and meet a dozen writers (who haven’t actually written a word of that masterpiece novel they talk about every day for years at a time), or you can wander down to Pumps for these occasional burlesque nights and experience singing, dancing, comedy, stripteasing, photography, and cutting edge artwork all in the same evening. This is why art thrives in communities. Make yourself a part of it, because even audiences are participants.

Follow the Pumps Pinups on Twitter: @PumpsPinups
And check out the Pumps page on facebook for more information:

Sunday, June 23, 2013


Take a breath before you listen to Setting Fire to the Western Hemisphere, because it’s the last time you’ll taste air for almost eight minutes. Depending on where you live, that could be a good thing. Here in Brooklyn the air tastes like old deli meat, diesel fumes, and sun-baked dog shit.

Written and recorded in a span of four days (that probably saw black clouds raining rusty nails and suicidal stock market traders onto the roof of their UK recording compound), Confine assault listeners with a relentless blast of grinding powerviolence that strips extreme music down to the bare essentials: Loud and heavy. I’ve never seen a picture of drummer Rich Speakman, but with his gatling gun fills I’m guessing his arms and legs have bionic components. The riffs may share DNA with the dirtiest strands of punk, but Confine are to punk what salamanders are to Komodo Dragons. If this music bit you the bacteria would kill you within the hour.

While most of the album feels like the blur of a hollow-tipped bullet racing towards its target, there’s also the drum’n’vox breakdown transitioning into murky hardcore of “Perception,” the filthy sludge intro of “Abstraction,” and the queasy roar of “Formation and Transformation,” my personal favorite track that feels like it’s high on white phosphorus. But the band excels at grind, and cuts the oxygen supply while Chris Reese siphons just enough air to peel the skin from inside his throat with possessed shrieks that bring to mind Todd Jones of Nails. The only song that didn’t work for me was “Legacy,” with its jarring stop-and-start rhythm. This is still a vicious release from Witch Hunter Records, and would be perfect for a grindcore picnic with a portable stereo, accompanied by Napalm Death and Full of Hell LPs in the picnic basket. It’s officially summer here in the states now, so I hope I’m not the only one having grindcore picnics.

Listen to Setting Fire to the Western Hemisphere over on Bandcamp here:

And follow Confine on Facebook for news and merch:

Saturday, June 22, 2013


Howdy, outlaws. Just received my subscriber copy of Decibel Magazine and wanted to list my articles in this fine issue. I incorrectly thought Amon Amarth had grimaced on a Decibel cover within the past year or so, but it’s been more like two and a half. Nothing wrong with them, but I’m still waiting for a Church of Misery cover. Here are the three pieces I had in this issue:

Page 23: Lesbian band profile. I talked to the thoughtful, shroom-snacking Seattle band about their new album ForesTeleVision and the female space warrior they discovered together. The album is one amazing 44 minute track that ranges from funeral doom to sludgy groove to earthy ambiance and King Diamond-inspired galloping metal. Check them out now, they're sprawlingly awesome.

Page 92: Black Tusk - Tend No Wounds review. I have really enjoyed stuff but these guys in the past, and I bet their new songs from this EP would be solid live, but I wasn’t feeling it. I gave it a 6/10 and submitted some snarky baseball related barbs. It was tough, I really wanted to like this EP.

Page 99: Naam - Vow review. These fellow Brooklynites rank high on the coolness scale with a casual charm and swaggering approach to their amp-busting, fuzzed-out stoner rock. I gave their new album an 8/10 and recommend this to anyone into stoner/doom music. Not among the heaviest albums of the year, and there are a few throw-away interludes, but some of this songwriting is just god damn incredible.

Pick it up this week, and check out some other awesome articles (with the Maryland Deathfest review, Shawn Macomber’s piece on Integrity’s Dwid Hellion, and Kevin Stewart-Panko’s Pig Destroyer HOF entry as my favorites).

Go over here to subscribe to Decibel Magazine. At $29.95 for a whole year this is one of the biggest bargains out there:

Friday, June 21, 2013


Kung Fu Breakfast editor-in-chief Jay Kantor sent me exploring the darkest caverns of the internet for information on a San Diego, CA band subtly named TittyFucker. They were a grind trio who played totally in the buff (apart from ski masks, which looked way cooler on them than on the bikini clad human props in Spring Breakers). I use the past tense because as soon as I discovered them they had announced their final show. Fascinated with the concept, I reached out to Christian, drummer/composer/co-founder of the band. Read on for descriptions of explicit nudity, betrayal, and Christian’s account of the band’s rowdy/randy shows and their future prospects:

Mr. Growl: The wisdom of the internet tells me TittyFucker was formed in 2011. How did all of the members meet?

Christian: We did indeed form in 2011 and started off in the Chula Vista House Show scene.
As for our history, I grew up with the vocalist Charlene here in San Diego. In fact she is still my neighbor. As for Andrea, I actually met her at an Ecstasy party. That was a crazy evening/morning.

Mr. Growl: Who was the first to pitch the idea of "Bare Naked Grind Violence" and how did you all decide to move forward in that direction?

Christian: It was I, as me and Charlene always took nude photographs of us and our friends for her nudist collective "La Vita". I figured since we are so desensitized to being buck-ass nude in public - why not do it in a band for the sake of an aesthetic statement? That statement being that we "don't give a fuck."

Mr. Growl: Apart from that aesthetic statement, how would you describe the attitude of TittyFucker?

Christian: Well, I'll speak for myself; I do not fear the judgements nor the restrictions that people will hold against me.

As for the other members I can say that Andrea had agreed upon that before in another interview. As for my vocalist, after I left the band, she said - "We milked it for a couple months." That could mean anything.

Mr. Growl: Your Facebook page has an awesomely detailed list of musical influences for each member. Who were your inspirations from a performance aspect?

Christian: For me, GG Allin is somewhat a dead give away for rockin' out with my cock out and the message that you can do whatever you want. I will also include Maniac from Mayhem for the self-mutilation and fear instilling theatrics.

Mr. Growl: How would you describe general crowd reaction to your band?

Christian: Angry, aroused, impressed, disturbed, and inspired according to the conversations that I've had post-performances.

Mr. Growl: Were there any horror stories where the crowd was out of line during a show?

Christian: Never. At least things you wouldn't expect at grind-violence show in the buff - such as - objects being thrown at us; overly hyped crowds that knock over the equipment; perverted cat calls... Yeah. All standard for TITTYFUCKER.

Mr. Growl: It looks like after a while you started playing with ski masks. Was this purely an aesthetic choice or have you had trouble with law enforcement and protecting your identities?

Christian: It's a 50/50 blend of theatrics and practicality. You see, it was my idea due to Charlene complaining about all the photos people would post online. So I suggested we'd wear ski masks since photos are inevitable. Plus on both my and Andrea's part, we figured it'd be safe to keep our band life, and work life separated within hidden identities.

Mr. Growl: Could you describe your local scene and how your location influenced the band's sound and approach?

Christian: It's generally White Boy Reggae bands all day everyday. As for the punk/metal/indie scene, it's young and will forever be in the maggot stage since this town is constantly in and out with tourists. The DIY spaces are mediocre, and vain with the exception of a great place called The Steinhaus. It's hard to book underground touring bands here for a reason - it's just a scene/market. It's not a way of life as music should be.

Mr. Growl: You recently announced that the band will be breaking up after your show on June 7th. What factors resulted in this decision?

Christian: Terrible band etiquette that fans and friends would complain about is one factor (horrible punctuality and snootiness for example), and the fact that Charlene was embezzling the band funds behind my back. Let alone lying about its whereabouts, I just can't be in a band with someone that I can't trust nor rely upon. After the fact that I wrote all the music, and lyrics; designed the art for our shirts and vinyl, did equipment tech (they couldn't tune a guitar to save their lives) I couldn't bear such an amount of greedy disrespect like that. The integrity was not there.

Mr. Growl: What do you each have planned after Titty Fucker's last show, short and long-term?

Christian: I know the girls are doing what they call "Folk-Metal.” I quote-end-quoted that because it's not the majestic Folk-Metal we all know, it's more like that angsty Folk-Punk stuff mixed with Metalcore according to my assumption. I think they recruiting members and will continue to play naked.

As for myself, I have my band CELL. To give you an idea, we sound as if Dystopia, Darkthrone, and Converge spliced their DNA, and developed the final product in the womb of SUNN O))). We're chiseling the tracks to our debut EP which will be released on vinyl and tapes within 2013.

Editor: How bad ass does this dude’s new band sound? Will definitely follow up with more information on CELL as I receive it. Many thanks to Christian for taking the time to answer our questions. I also have to say that the name of the picture above the interview (Christian TittyFucker) is my favorite JPEG name ever.

Check out a track over at Bandcamp to see what you missed: