Greetings you fuckrags. How’s your week going? Did you get mega drunk on the weekend and pass out in your mother’s tomato patch… because I definitely didn’t do that.. so.. yeah.. Anywho, I’ve got an extra special Trash/Thrash for you fucks this week. Oh man, I dug around in the archive of garbage for you bastards this week.
So to preface what will surely become an unstructured diatribe, I was recently being aggressively hit on by a dude on Tinder who was beaking off about how into “metal” he is, and I asked what bands he liked.. He described a list of bands, each more awful than the one preceding it, and finally setting on Atreyu as his “fave band”, and allow me to say right now – GENTLEMEN, if you’re ever hitting on a woman whose Tinder picture is her in a Wolves in the Throne Room hoodie chopping up a horse skeleton in the forest – listing off some garbage metalcore/screamo bands, is certainly not going to blow her panties off. I have a vibrator and it doesn’t in it’s spare time listen to metalcore, so yeah. Do not want.
Atreyu though. Atreyu. First of all, that band is still a thing? I had to go and wikipedia that shit and find out that yeah apparently they are, and again – WHY? Who is listening to metalcore? What weak kneed sack of garbage is still listening to that tripe? Aside from being boring and suffering from trying way too hard to have meaning, the music is just stale sounding. We get it, you like emo but also like rock and roll. We get it. And allow me to say as well that the dudes in metalcore bands are always covered in tattoos and piercings but end up looking these little wussies that you could push over. We know your dad was mean to you and you didn’t get what you wanted for Christmas. Stop trying so hard. I get it. I was a hilariously over done goth, IN MY YOUTH – the key point there being IN MY YOUTH. When I was fifteen, I rocked around cemeteries clutching books like the Bell Jar and poetry by Edgar Allan Poe while thinking mournful thoughts.. but that’s the shit you grow up and out of. Stagnating in your own waste is not only lame, but it’s boring.
I remember this particular Atreyu song off their album The Crimson, simply because at one point Scotty Floronic and myself owned it. The album features this vampire babe with her tits out because hey, tits and vampires are hot right? Anywho, the whole album was supposed to be some kind of weak ass concept album about vampires and Scotty for whatever reason didn’t realize this until we were listening to this track on a road trip, stoned off our tits and all of a sudden this lightbulb of realization goes off in his head.. “ANNE RICE NOVEL. MOTHERFUCKER THIS IS ABOUT VAMPIRES”. Save from the time we were at a Cure concert and during “Never Enough” when Scotty realized the song was about doing drugs, has there ever been such hilarity, It’s still one of my favourite Scott Floronic moments. This song came out in like what? 2006? Was emo still cool then? Were vampires? This was all pre-Twilight so were vampires still something kinda neat or had Brad Pitt ruined them? I can’t remember what with all the years of doing heinous amounts of chemical drugs, but hey – some things aren’t meant to be remembered. I have this theory that occaisionally your brain just blanks out the ignorant or embarassing shit you did as a kind of self witness protection program. I really do. All of my bad decisions, like why I felt it necessary to smash a beer bottle and attack someone at a crowded bar with it, or why I one time wrote for a site obsessed with horror hoagies, or you know.. why for whatever reason I had an Atreyu CD in my possession – all lost to the ether of time.
Seriously though, go play this pile of shit, with its wheedling guitars and lyrics about Anne Rice novels, and Robert Smith.. like.. come on dude. We know.. We know you are spoopy. We have eyes. Be less of a simpering nitwit about it.
I feel it welling up inside and Robert Smith lied
Boys do cry and with blood tears in my eyes
I’m an Anne Rice novel come to life
I can’t hide the monster anymore
One can only feel desolate for so long
Until one starts to change
Into something the mirror doesn’t recognize
The darkness has been biding its time
To claim its latest victim
Fresh meat for carnal desires
To become what I became
I viewed the sun for the last time
Will you still hold me when you see what I have done?
Will you still kiss me the same when you taste my victim’s blood?
So crimson and red, I feel it flowing from your lips (crimson and red)
My heart is dead and so are you
And it pulses through, the desire to change
The desire to deconstruct all of my past failings
But where to begin because when you live in sin
It’s hard to look at saints without them
Reflecting your jet black auras back on you
And all I have is hope, my inner burn’s not fading
I’ll wipe the blood from my cheek and get on with my day
And all I have is hope, and all I need is time
To bury in pine under six feet of time
The lies I told me about myself
Claw my way out, pick the splinters from under my fingernails
I won’t lose hope, I won’t give in
Just live and breathe and try not to die again
You can find the oldblackgoat on twitter reading Anne Rice and being intensely spoopy, but somehow better dressed than the members of Atreyu.