Feature article by RantChick

Rammstein named itself after the town Ramstein, where the second-deadliest airshow disaster (following the 2002 Sknyliv disaster) took place in front of an audience of about 300,000 people in 1988 – at least, that’s the official version. But the band added an extra “m”, giving the name the alternative meaning of “battering ram” in German. Most apt.

Bold, brash, brutal… barbaric – Rammstein in words. Subtle is not how this German powerhouse rolls. The band batters its way into consciousness with porn, pyromania and petulance. Rammstein’s lyrical metaphors are obvious and garish yet utterly effective. Much like Slipknot (although without the same categorical intention), Rammstein – in song, image and performance – personifies the putrefaction of society, of the individual, of the soul. The band is a symbol of internal rot – and no song is as suggestive of this idea as is Eifersucht (Jealousy).

Eifersucht (Jealousy)

Am I pretty
Then cut me in the face
Am I stronger
Break my neck in disgrace
Am I smarter
Kill me and eat my brain
I take your wife
Kill me and eat me all up
Just eat me all up

Am I honest
Then bite my tongue right off
Am I richer
Then take it all
Am I braver
Kill me and eat my heart
I take your wife
Kill me and eat me all up
Just eat me all up
And lick the table clean

We’re cooking jealousy

Have I such tender skin
Tear it out in stripes
Have I the clearest eyes
Steal all the light
Have I the purest soul
Burn it in the flames
I take your wife then
Kill me and eat me all up
Just eat me all up
And lick the table clean

We’re cooking jealousy

The song likens jealousy to cannibalism. Jealousy is a living entity that breathes, pulsates and reacts – reacts with murderous intent, by consuming that which is coveted. Cut a pretty face, eat an intelligent brain, bite an honest tongue… the metaphor is ferocious. Eifersucht equates an act of jealousy with metaphorical butchery; inflicting covetous thoughts on another is emotional and intellectual murder. It is the subjective destruction of another’s identity. Enforcing or imposing one’s own identity (needs, desires, thoughts and perceptions) on the identity of another is metaphorical murder. It is metaphorical mutilation, the destruction of another soul.

But Jealousy is also a simultaneous act of self-mutilation; it kills the dreams, ambitions, love, generosity and passion of its wielder. Jealousy is self-destructive as well as murderous.

The theme of mutilation is reflected in the album’s cover.  Eifersucht comes from Sehnsucht, Rammstein’s second album. The album booklet folds out to reveal six different covers, one for each band member – each photo depicting the member with a horrible facial mutilation. The cover most commonly seen features Till Lindemann with a muzzle and odd metal objects placed over his eyes to block his vision. The tone is masochistic and very disturbing, much like the songs on the album. The physical disfigurement of the band members represents the notion of an internal disfigurement, a mutilation of the soul, which is a result of the human condition. A condition that predisposes man to selfish desires and acts of jealousy… amongst other destructive modes of existence.

The cover art, the work of Austrian artist Gottfried Helnwein, is an outward manifestation of an abstract concept. It’s like horror in print. And the images are merely one aspect of the revulsion. The art’s true horror is invoked when viewed in context, as an element of a greater artistic endeavour, which is to express a single idea through various artistic mediums – word, voice, instrument, appearance, photograph. The concept is holistic in its expression and thus psychologically intrusive and deeply disruptive.

As is often the case, metal is used as a vehicle for ideological and artistic expression. Rammstein are masters of ‘the visual’ – their live shows are extreme as is their interpretation of Life and execution thereof. The band challenges thought, it is an assault on the senses… and I love it.

Feature article by RantChick

There was a film in 1966, Mars Needs Women, in which a military decoding station intercepted a message; a three-worded message saying “Mars Needs Women”. As the plot unfolds it’s revealed that Martians have a genetic deficiency that produces only male babies. The Martians launch a mission to earth whereby five aliens aim to recruit volunteer women to come to Mars. Rob Zombie says that not only does Mars need women; Mars needs angry, red women.
 
Mars Needs Women
 
Mars needs women
Angry red women
Mars needs women
Angry red women
 
Can you hear it calling?
Highjack what you’re wanting
A sweet ride baby
With a broken face
Stop, look, dig it
If she wanna get it
Stop, look, dig it
All she can destroy
 
Mars needs women
Angry red women
Mars needs women
Angry red women
Mars needs women
Angry red women
Mars needs women
Angry red women
 
Not afraid to use it
Strip it and abuse it
A sweet ride baby
Get me out of this place
Stop, look, dig it
If she wanna get it
Stop, look, dig it
All she can destroy
Stop, look, dig it
If she wanna get it
Stop, look, dig it
All she can destroy
 
Mars needs women
Angry red women
Mars needs women
Angry red women
Mars needs women
Angry red women
Mars needs women
Angry red women
 
New gods a moving
Miracles a losing
A cash in baby
Just give it a taste
Stop, look, dig it
If she wanna get it
Stop, look, dig it
All she can destroy
Stop, look, dig it
If she wanna get it
Stop, look, dig it
All she can destroy
 
Mars needs women
Angry red women
Mars needs women
Walk in outer space
Mars needs women
Angry red women
Mars needs women
Walk in outer space
 

Let’s assume that ‘angry and red’ is a metaphor for women of ability, ingenuity and sagacity. Perhaps the metaphor is meant to expose the unpleasantness of shrewish behaviour – women of character patronisingly referred to as ‘angry and red’ – but then again, Life is relative to its beholder, making said metaphor relative to the speaker’s interpretation and thus not relevant at all… but also entirely relevant.

So we continue under the aforementioned premise.

The corollary of Mars needing angry, red women is that earth doesn’t. So, why not give the space invaders our angry, red women? I mean, if it helps the poor Martians avoid extinction…
 
Here’s why? BECAUSE WE NEED THEM.
 
Angry, red women are the spice of life; the epitome of all things interesting. Besides, what makes women angry and red? Men usually (the angry part at least – never the intelligence part). That said, men are not entirely to blame for a woman’s red wrath. Strength and aggression is a result of both nature and nurture. The point is that sending earth’s Amazonians to metaphorical Mars because they may be a little hard to deal with, especially when they are not entirely to blame for their…condition, is an almighty cop out. Don’t you think?
 
Do we really want to propagate the female species into dull, dim, drivelling, dreary stepford wives? No thanks.
 
Let’s keep our angry, red women. When the aliens come to get them; kill those bastards D.E.A.D

Feature article by RantChick

What is Slipknot? A band. But not just a band. Slipknot is modern metal’s most masochistic machine. Slipknot is a philosophy; a metaphor for human nature. The masks, the mania and the music are symbolic of man’s maggoty malignancy. Feeding on the rancid rottenness that runs rampant through the mind of society, putrefying every thought and action; Slipknot make art out of that which disgusts.

People = Shit

Here we go again, motherfucker!!!

Come on down, and see the idiot right here
Too fucked to beg and not afraid to care
What’s the matter with calamity anyway?
Right, get the fuck outta my face
Understand that I can’t feel anything
It isn’t like, I wanna sift through the decay
I feel like a wound, like I got a fuckin’
Gun against my head, you live when I’m dead

One more time, motherfucker

Everybody hates me now, so fuck it
Blood’s on my face and my hands, and I
Don’t know why, I’m not afraid to cry
But that’s none of your business
Whose life is it? Get it, see it, feel it, eat it
Spin it around so I can spit in it’s face
I wanna leave without a trace
‘Cause I don’t wanna die in this place

People equal shit
People equal shit
People equal shit

People equal shit
(Whatcha gonna do?)
People equal shit
(‘Cause I am not afraid of you)
People equal shit
(I’m everything you’ll never be)
People equal shit

It never stops, you can’t be everything to everyone
Contagion, I’m sittin’ at the side of Satan
What do you want from me?
They never told me the failure I was meant to be yea
Overdo it, don’t tell me you blew it
Stop your bitchin’ and fight your way through it
I’m not like you, I just fuck up

come on motherfucker, everybody has to die
come on motherfucker, everybody has to die

People equal shit
People equal shit
People equal shit

People equal shit
(Whatcha gonna do?)
People equal shit
(‘Cause I am not afraid of you)
People equal shit
(I’m everything you’ll never be)
People equal shit
Ride the light

People are shitty. Fact. Shawn Crahan says “We are what we are, we just waste and we ruin and we corrupt, and we destroy.” Man is like a disease, infiltrating and destroying that which was given us to nurture and nourish.

We live in age that glorifies man; we revel in our accomplishments and bask in the glory of our own awesomeness. It’s called narcissism. And it’s not a new concept. For eons, artists have been interpreting the myth of the beautiful Narcissus, who was divinely punished for his exceptionally cruel despisal of those who fell in love with him. Forced by the gods to fall in love with his own reflection, Narcissus pined away alongside the pool and, succumbing to his sorrow, finally perished. In all honesty, empathy eludes; the guy deserved his fate.

Myths are allegorical representations of ancient society. Much like fairytales and folklore, myths served to maintain models for behaviour as well as social structures and institutions. The myth of Narcissus teaches society of the dangers of self-love, which leads to sorrow and even death – literal and figurative. We don’t cut Narcissus a break yet we afford ourselves the luxury of forgiveness?

Oscar Wilde modernised the myth of Narcissus in The Picture of Dorian Gray – a cautionary tale of supernatural horror, similar to the legends of old. The author’s biting wit allows for an acute social commentary on the plague of narcissism that has laid claim to soul of society. Dorian Gray ‘sells his soul to the devil’ in exchange for immortality. Free to live a life of debauched decadence, Gray embraces the joy of pleasure-seeking hedonism. Gray’s sins and age are etched onto a portrait of his likeness; a portrait that becomes so gruesomely disfigured that when faced with the picture of his soul, Gray stabs his painted image in a bid to destroy it. In so doing, he ends his own life. Art, a reflection of society, emphasises the novel’s greater metaphor, which is that the portrait serves as a literal translation of the degeneration of man’s mentality, much like the masks worn by Slipknot. Rather than masks that hide the truth, the masks of Slipknot reveal the truth. They are a collective reflection of an inner corrosion that is, on the face of it, hidden by clothes, cream and corsages. The masks are raw, bloodcurdling, discernible and provocative. They are hate personified.

Slipknot is a visceral perpetuation of the age-old myth of narcissism. Slipknot exists in direct contradiction to the veneration of man. Through music and image, the band confronts listeners with their egotism. Slipknot challenges society to keep it real whilst being poignantly aware of the fact that society will do no such thing. It is a horrific irony that brings to light the futility of our own existence. And our desperate need for redemption.

Metal is a genre that invokes the extreme. Unsubtle in its ideology, metal massacres mediocrity with carnal ferocity. It is a tool that incites rebellion and anger. In its uncompromising acknowledgment of moral decay, metal is often unappreciated and misunderstood. Slipknot embraces and embellishes the audacious authenticity of metal, with unashamed aggression. The band makes a point. And it’s not an easy one to hear.

Source: Rantchick.com – Dorian Gray Syndrome

It’s time to don the corpse paint and bullet belts, because Adult Swim’s Metalocalypse is back to wreak Deth and commercialised destruction upon the masses – and Season 3 promises to be just as totally freakin’ brutal as the first two instalments.

For those yet to be inducted into the cult of Dethklok, here’s the low-down so far on the baddest act on the planet: Death metal band Dethklok exists in an anti-reality, having achieved unprecedented popularity, wielding unmatched global power and influence, and ranking as the seventh largest economy on Earth. The band’s unnatural fame and trail of destruction has attracted the attention of an Illuminati-style group, known as The Tribunal, dedicated to monitoring Dethklok’s activity and plans. Led by a mysterious character named “Mr. Selatcia”, The Tribunal works off the premise that Dethklok’s unusual powers are the result of an ancient Sumerian prophecy about an “Apocalypse of Metal” – hence Metalocalypse.

The third instalment of the series sees the band facing life without their band manager Offdensen, who has passed away as a result of his injuries at the hands of the Metal Masked Assassin. Dethklok’s private citadel/recording studio Mordhaus is now a floating fortress and is undergoing heavy renovations to repair the damage from an attack by an anti-Dethklok terrorist group, but operations are soon halted when the band is unable to manage their finances and find themselves in monetary crisis. The only way to solve the cash-flow quandary and boost morale is to do what these metallers do best: staging a world performance of apocalyptic magnitude, and monetising the hell out of their celebrity status.

Staying true to the Metalocalyptic formula of parody-tribute to heavy metal culture, the ten newly extended, 30 minute-long episodes are as solidly loaded with excessive black humour and headbangin’ hellraisin’ as their predecessors, with some long-awaited character development and existential subplots: Toki attempts to find love, Skwisgaar uncovers the origin of his unrivalled guitarist skills, Pickles projects some father-issues, Murderface is even more offensive, and Nathan Explosion remains as awesome and totally fuckin’ brutal as Nathan Explosion was in episodes 1 through 38. Best of all, Season 3 sees the return of David Lee Roth’s cartooned doppelganger and better version in a unitard – hebephilic glam rocker and mad motherfucker c-c-c-c-c coke-clown Dr. Rockso.

As per usual, Metalocalypse also has its black-nailed finger firmly on the metal scene pulse, and the third season aims some deftly defiant blows at commercialisation, asshole celebrity, and the sell-out band in a variety of ridiculously clever scenarios: Dethklok shamelessly plugs all manner of Deth-themed merchandise, including ice-cream Dethcones, Black Black chewing gum and a Dethklok Dorito-dispenser Land, and a cocky real-world reference has the band members repeatedly stopping off at fast-food joint Dimmu Burger for a cheap meal. The result is a smirking undercurrent of knowingness and a brazenly facetious irony that will not disappoint the metal/Metalocalypse fan.

As with any satire, appreciation necessitates an understanding of the satirised; if you don’t get metal, you won’t get Metalocalypse. But if you’re really keen to foster some metalhead appreciation, the graphic, rude and ultra-bizarro Season 3 is as good a place as any to start, perhaps the only downside being that it’ll leave you with the sad realisation that the human counterpart for a band as awesome as Dethklok has yet to exist in real life.

Have you ever had seen Corey Taylor’s neck? It’s HUGE. Fucking massive! I have had the privilege of viewing the pulsating projection up-close and personal, and I live to tell that the tremendous trunk blends into the singer’s head with expert craftsmanship, as if the man was designed precisely for the purpose of horrifically heavy headbanging. In fact, rumour has it that the secret to the frontman’s mammoth metal charisma lies in the mighty muscle that fans have come to know as “Corey Taylor’s thick-ass neck.” Good thing Napoleon is dead and Corey Taylor was not born noble, French and in the eighteenth century, or Madame la Guillotine would have had a proper feast. According to Shawn Crahan, Taylor’s neck is an impressive 18-inches in size. WTF? How marvellous! It’s a pity that battering rams are not all that relevant to modern society; if medieval warfare was the name of today’s game, the man would have made a mint as a ‘Human Bulldozer’. Oh Corey, you beaut’ – both you and mostly your leviathan neck!

In a show of gratitude for one of the greatest necks alive, click HERE to join “Corey Taylor’s thick-ass neck appreciation society.”

The Metal Hammer Golden Gods is an awards ceremony that inspires a celebration of sound; a sound so sophisticated and equivocally unpretentious that Barbaric, Bloodthirsty and Bewitching are the consequential qualities that form the quintessence of what makes metal music the elite genre that so few have come to love, and an overwhelming number have come to hate. Misunderstood by the masses, the metal message is delivered with the unabashed assistance of uncouth utterance and sassy sounds that dictate deference. Metal keeps it raunchy, real and ruthless, and I am proud to call myself a defender of the faith. As a soldier of metal, fighting the malady of mediocrity, it is my duty to vote for this year’s Golden Gods award winners, and, dear metal lover, it is also YOURS.

The nominees for the 2011 Golden Gods are:

Best International Band: Avenged Sevenfold, Dimmu Borgir, Stone Sour, Children Of Bodom, Down

Best UK Band sponsored by Roadrunner: Iron Maiden, Bring Me The Horizon, Skindred, Architects, Bullet For My Valentine

Best Live Band: Cancer Bats, Devildriver, Rob Zombie, Skindred, Machine Head

Best New Band: The Defiled, Kvelertak, Tesseract, The Damned Things, Letlive

Best Underground: Watain, Kylesa, Primordial, The Dead Lay Waiting, Clutch

Best Breakthrough: Parkway Drive, A Day To Remember, Sylosis, Sabaton, Volbeat

Shredder(s), sponsored by Blackstar: Gus G (Firewind, Ozzy Osbourne), Mark Tremonti (Alter Bridge), Alexi Laiho (Children Of Bodom), Mark Rizzo (Cavalera Conspiracy, Soulfly, Il Nino), Synyster Gates (Avenged Sevenfold)

Metal As Fuck: Slayer, Behemoth, Slipknot, Zakk Wylde, Deftones

Event Of The Year: Rob Zombie’s return, Manowar’s return, System Of A Down reforming, The Big Four UK announcement, Beavis And Butthead’s resurrection

The Metal Hammer Golden Gods 2011 will take place on Monday, June 13. By voting you are able to enter into a draw for a place at the awards ceremony.

Move over Dr Parnassus, a new Imaginarium is coming to town! Symphonic metal maestros Nightwish are currently putting finishing touches to their new album Imaginarium and are also planning a movie of the same name.

Since the band’s conception in 1996, the story-telling imagination of Nightwish has been superbly translated into consciousness by breathtakingly beautiful metal symphony that resonates with innate sensitivity and strength. The band’s music and lyrics lend themselves so perfectly to visual interpretation, which makes the prospect of a Nightwish film TOTALLY EXCITING.

The dark delicacy of Tuomas Holopainen’s imagination is to be brought to life in a style reminiscent of “the surreal worlds of Tim Burton, Neil Gaiman, and Salvador Dali,” without being “too artsy.” In a recent interview, Tuomas explained the film concept as follows:

An old composer on his deathbed returns to his childhood. Old memories slowly return, mingled with the small boy’s world of fantasy and music… I wanted to convey a positive message and a sense of carpe diem. The movie is about the joy of being alive and the beauty of the world.

Metal is a genre that traditionally explores life’s complexities with a brute realism that is appreciated by the few and scorned by the many. Metal undercuts the bullshit with hard hitting music and lyrics that incite listeners to ‘seize the day’ and to embrace the essence of what it means to be alive. But Metal is in fact more diverse than is given credit for, and Nightwish is testament to this fact. The magic of fantasy is embraced by a plethora of metal bands that subconsciously preach ‘carpe diem’ by exposing the inherent beauty that exists in contrast to life’s morose melancholy. The concept behind Imaginarium promises to evoke a sense of life’s loveliness without negating the malignant malevolence that inescapably permeates existence.

The magnificent imagination encapsulated in the ideas driving Imaginarium is to be rendered into visual being by director Stober Harju, his production team and Solar Films, who have teamed up with Nightwish to produce the film. Harju directed the Nightwish video for The Islander and has written the script for Imaginarium. The idea is that the album and the film work independently; the music on the album and in the movie will differ – in the movie, some intros will be edited out and some choruses won’t have vocals because the music has to accommodate the story and the drama. Nightwish will feature in the film playing two or three songs and there are also some support parts and dialogue written for the band members, none of whom will be cast in the main roles.

The pre-production of Imaginarium is currently in full swing. The film will have a running time of around 80 minutes and is due for release, along with the new album, early in 2012 – if everything goes according to plan. Fingers crossed!

To read more about Imaginarium as well as interviews with Tuomas Holopainen, Stobe Harju and producer Markus Selin, visit Nightwish.com.

Feature article by RantChick

The oxymoron inherent in the term ‘love metal’ is a concept that Ville Valo has been selling to the world and, more specifically, to ‘defenders of the faith’ for close on 20 years. Metal music, synonymous with testosterone driven aggression, is the antithesis of love, which is associated with gentle romance and sentimental tenderness. Marrying the philosophical connotations of love and metal seems ludicrous but HIM’s fusion of melancholic melody and metal muscle makes sense of the apparent contradiction. The band’s musical and lyrical content reminds listeners that the violent opposition between love and metal is rooted in the same core emotions, namely passion and obsession, which makes two seemingly antithetical ideals not all that dissimilar.

The ethos of HIM is rendered in the band’s trademark symbol, the Heartagram, which has been described by Valo as a “Modern Yin Yang” – the heart, a symbol of love, being the Yin and the inverted pentagram, a symbol of metal, being the Yang. The implication is that one element cannot exist without the other – the Heart ‘Yin’ and Metal ‘Yang’ provide a sense of balance to HIM’s music. Valo has said that “the Heartagram stands for HIM as a band, as an entity, and for ‘love metal’ in general. Valo writes words of love and expresses them through metal music and in so doing the singer and his band have birthed the genre of love metal, which is wistfully and veraciously captured in The Sacrament.

The Sacrament

I hear you breathe so far from me
I feel your touch so close and real
And I know
My church is not of silver and gold,
It’s glory lies beyond judgement of souls
The commandments are of consolation and warmth

You know our sacred dream won’t fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you

I hear you weep so far from me
I taste your tears like you’re next to me
And I know
My weak prayers are not enough to heal
Oh the ancient wounds so deep and so dear
The revelation is of hatred and fear

You know our sacred dream won’t fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you

The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you

You know our sacred dream won’t fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you

You know our sacred dream won’t fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you

The religious metaphor that forms the premise of The Sacrament is both woeful and poetically beautiful. A sacrament in religion is a ritual or practice that is a tangible symbol of an intangible reality; a visible sign of an invisible absolute. HIM’s song is a love letter by Ville Valo to an unnamed love, to which he says “the sacrament is you.” Within the context of the song, the woman, Valo’s love, is the tangible symbol of an invisible reality that denotes a passionate love – she is a symbol of that love, she is ‘the sacrament.’ Valo worships at the altar of love in a church “not of silver and gold.” He subscribes to a religion that dictates commandments of “consolation and warmth.” Valo’s religion is love; a love that transcends “judgement of souls” and is therefore, by implication, perfect, requiring no absolution from a divine God. Valo thus alludes to the fact that the love spoken of in the song is itself divine.

But the sentimentality of Valo’s words is undermined by an implicit tone of tragedy, which, ironically, enhances the song’s romance with an inflection of ‘star-crossed lovers.’ The lines “I hear you weep so far from me/ I taste your tears like you’re next to me/ And I know/ My weak prayers are not enough to heal/ Oh the ancient wounds so deep and so dear” suggest that the lovers are torn apart by distance or death, or perhaps even hurt. Yet Valo does not cast love as an insipid character. Inherent in The Sacrament is a tone of hope and idealism; love vanquishes distance, death or pain. The utopia of lovers united is described as ‘a sacred dream that won’t fail.’ Valo speaks of a dream but not just any dream, a “sacred” dream; a dream that is anointed and incomprehensible, a dream that inspires devotion, respect and subservience. This “sacred dream” is also described as a “sanctuary tender and so frail.” The dream of lovers united is a safe place, a sanctuary, which is threatened by an inconsistency provoked by human fallibility. If the hope and love that propels the sanctuary wanes then the dream is destroyed.

Although the inherent imperfection of human nature renders the sanctuary errant, love’s unfailing character comes to the rescue. The Sacrament alludes to the divinity of love which in turn implies that love is consistent because it transcends human fallibility. Within the fragility of the dream of love is a sense of intrinsic strength that is emphasised by the deliverance of the song. The intensity of Valo’s pensively deep, doleful voice exudes a force of innate vitality that is enhanced by the melodic metal and rock distortion of the accompanying music. Through the expression of metal, love is rendered audacious and vivacious.

Ville Valo says of hearts; “I love hearts. They are symbols for life, love and humanity” and HIM’s music testifies to the ethos of the heart. It is sacrament to Life.

Jonathan Davis’s mic stand is no mere object; it is an animated entity charged with iconic status, colossal presence and a magnanimous mania that is ravenously and indefatigably absorbed by fans. On tour, Korn is preceded by Davis’s mic, which never fails to incite delirious hysteria. The mic has come to be a tangible representation of Korn, and more specifically an embodiment of the charismatic singer for whom it was designed; a singer who Doug Small called “the eye of the storm around which the music of Korn rages.”

In 2001, Davis, a fan of HR Giger’s work, was only too pleased when the Swiss artist accepted a commission to come up with a design for a mic stand for the Korn frontman. Davis’s only stipulation was “a functional piece of art,” and the otherworldly, biomechanical, oversexualized female creature that Giger produced couldn’t have been more apt. When Davis performs, he and the mic merge into one – Giger’s creation so perfectly, beautifully and agonisingly exaggerates and amplifies Davis’s tormented soul. The vile, sordid eroticism inherent in Giger’s work proved to be the perfect premise on which to bring Jonathan Davis, the heart of Korn, to life.

Giger and Davis are intuitive artists whose vulgar and indecent expression is simultaneously repellent and attractive. They are artists who create with their souls, the result of which is a visual and auditory presence, respective to each artist, that is both bizarre and provocative. Korn is Davis’s punching bag and battering ram; Korn takes an emotional beating from Davis and thereafter delivers a musical and lyrical assault. The band’s primal nature invokes abhorrence but also demands consideration, much like Giger’s art. The music of Korn and the art of Giger free the limits of the imagination and give the individual permission to delve into the origins of the personal fears that lurk menacingly within the subconscious. For Davis and Giger, the result of all that delving around in the quiescent crypt of the mind’s labyrinthine complexities is the conjuring of an art so obscene, so disgusting, so raw and deeply troublesome, that it compels reverence.

To immortalise the mic in history and to aggrandise its allure (never mind value), only five stands were manufactured and the mould has since been destroyed. Davis is in possession of two of the stands, the third lives in a museum of Davis’s choice, the fourth is on permanent display at the H.R. Giger Museum in Switzerland and the fifth mic is used in Giger’s gallery exhibitions. Revolver called the mic a “heavy metal sex machine” – kind of like Korn, a lot like Davis and explicitly Giger-like. It is a transcendent entity, not only through art but through the life and energy prescribed to it by Davis and his fans.

Feature article by RantChick

Since the band’s conception in 1998, System Of A Down has amassed a loyal following of manic fans by preaching ‘down with the system’ through songs that transcend time and context. Perhaps choosing to take a near five year hiatus during some of the world’s most turbulent crises was not the best timing for a band that provides a voice for the marginalised. System’s confrontational message is, of course, not confined to Toxicity or Steal This Album and in this way System will always oppose the ‘the prison’ and its wardens. But is that good enough? If a band is an activist to its very core, if educating and challenging is intrinsic to a band’s character (and even a band’s success), is it ever okay to take a break? Is there even a justifiable excuse?

Prison Song

They’re trying to build a prison,
They’re trying to build a prison,

Following the rights movements
You clamped down with your iron fists,
Drugs became conveniently
Available for all the kids,
Following the rights movements
You clamped down with your iron fists,
Drugs became conveniently
Available for all the kids,

I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch,
Right here in Hollywood,

Nearly 2 million Americans are incarcerated
In the prison system, prison system
Prison system of the U.S.

They’re trying to build a prison

They’re trying to build a prison,
They’re trying to build a prison,
They’re trying to build a prison, (for you and me to live in)
Another prison system,
Another prison system,
Another prison system.

Minor drug offenders fill your prisons
You don’t even flinch
All our taxes paying for your wars
Against the new non-rich,
Minor drug offenders fill your prisons
You don’t even flinch
All our taxes paying for your wars
Against the new non-rich,

I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch,
Right here in Hollywood,

The percentage of Americans in the prison system, has doubled since 1985

They’re trying to build a prison

They’re trying to build a prison,
They’re trying to build a prison,
They’re trying to build a prison,
Another prison system,
Another prison system,
Another prison system.
For you and me, you and me.

They’re trying to build a prison,
They’re trying to build a prison,
They’re trying to build a prison,
For you and me,
Oh baby, you and me.

All research and successful drug policy shows
That treatment should be increased,
And law enforcement decreased,
While abolishing mandatory minimum sentences,
All research and successful drug policy shows
That treatment should be increased,
And law enforcement decreased,
While abolishing mandatory minimum sentences.

Utilizing drugs to pay for secret wars around the world,
Drugs are now your global policy,
Now you police the globe,

I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch,
Right here in Hollywood,

Drug money is used to rig elections,
And train brutal corporate sponsored
Dictators around the world.

They’re trying to build a prison

They’re trying to build a prison,
They’re trying to build a prison,
They’re trying to build a prison, (for you and me to live in)
Another prison system,
Another prison system,
Another prison system. (for you and me)
For you and I, for you and I , for you and I.
They’re trying to build a prison,
They’re trying to build a prison,
They’re trying to build a prison,
For you and me,
Oh baby, you and me.

Bands take breaks for various reasons; ‘overworked’, ‘bored’, ‘creative recuperation’, ‘in-house’ fighting’, ‘pursuing other ventures’… whatever the reason, musos are certainly allowed to go on hiatus. No law says otherwise. And people, although disappointed, will understand. But, for a moment, ignore pragmatism and think ideologically; when a band’s driving force has not only intensified but demands compliance, and said band chooses to circumvent this force, a mass of ideological inconsistencies flood into being.

It’s not like System stopped having something to say.

Arguably, System has engaged in activism though the band’s transcendent pre-existing material. Every single time the Prison Song is played in a club, on a Hi-Fi, on an IPod, wherever, whenever, the message is broadcast. Yet it seems ironic that a band fighting ‘the system’ that controls the thoughts and ideas of mankind, would submerge back into the very prison that it speaks out against.

System Of A Down is an activist and with that manner of being comes the implicit obligation to ‘keep active’ – to keep active in speaking out against that which is considered unethical, immoral and detrimental to life, in all its forms. And although individual band members may participate in their own ‘speak out’ projects, System is not absolved of its responsibility to ‘keep active’.

As a collective – consisting of Daron Malakian, Serj Tankian, Shavo Odadjian and John Dolmayan – operating under the banner ‘System Of A Down,’ individual identity is rendered irrelevant because System has proclaimed itself a ‘spanner in the works’, a ‘cog in the wheel’ – an authoritative dynamo intent on accosting the status quo. In other words, the IDEA that is System Of A Down, and the moral code that it stands for, is larger than the lives of its members. The members are required to practice the IDEA but always at the expense of selfhood and independence – a metaphorical self-righteous suicide. Perhaps the IDEA asks too much?