Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Death Magnetic - Finally!


Ardent Metallica fans have been under the influence of the skeptic inside ever since the release of their new full length studio album was announced. The previously much awaited return of the masters of thrash ended in mixed emotions after the disappointment that was St. Anger. So it’s no surprise that I was slightly apprehensive when I held it in my hands for the first time.

Well the cover is classic Metallica at least. An open grave with a suspiciously metallic looking coffin with the soil spread around in a circular pattern. Sort of like the behavior of iron around a magnet. Death Magnetic, get it?

Right, well, on to the important bits, like the actual music for instance. First, an overview of how the whole thing sounds; Every single Metallica album I’ve listened to in the past, with the exception of St. Anger , have required a second listen at least, for the full appreciation of its musical content. This is especially true of the first four absolute smashers they released before they went slightly more commercial with The Black Album (1991). And as I thankfully discovered, Death Magnetic started sounding better and better the more I listened to it. It’s a sort of a mishmash of the various styles of music adopted by the band over the ages. Think a generous dose of difference from all of the first four albums with some elements thrown in from their later efforts such as Black and Load/Re-Load.

pic - the early days

But to say it equals any of the first four in quality and pure power would be an overstatement. I would say the album it most resembles at most times would be '..And Justice for All'. It produces a quality of music that I can only call raw, blunt and it hits you right in the head.
But the great disappointment of Death Magnetic (yes, there is one) is the absence of Kirk Hammet. Oh physically his presence is there and it is obvious that some great guitar work has come in from that genius brain of his but the magic of his rip roaring solos are nowhere to be seen in their former glory. I’m talking haunting stuff like Fade to Black, Creeping Death, One, Ride the lightning and I could go on and on. I’m wondering if Hammet simply doesn’t do his thing like he used to or if the band simply decided to tune down the solo department this time around. Whatever the reason was, it sure is a pity, there’s so much more that could have been done with a little more waah and finger lightning if you know what I mean.

But wait, it would be wrong of me to tell you that Hammet is totally dormant, or that the album does not have its haunting moments. The day that never comes has got a super melodious riff to begin with and culminates in a fiery ending courtesy our favorite lead guitarist. The album also features Unforgiven III, which is a great track in its own right. Although it takes a couple of listens to get the hang of if you, like me, were immediately expecting it to hit the standards of the last two Unforgivens.

The album opens with That Was Just Your Life. A throwback to their early days with the kind of flavor you found in The Four Horsemen (Kill em All ’83). Not as great but still a nice enough opening track. Moving down the track list Broken Beat and Scarred is a magnificent song with classic Hetfield vocals complimented with the drum-guitar combination that Ulrich and Newstead perfected in the early 90’s. Newstead of course, has left the band since then and it seems that new bassist Robert Trujillo has not disappointed in his first ever studio album as a part of the awesome foursome. The pair displays their chemistry again on Cyanide, another ripper of a song.
pic - Ulrich & Trujillo (below)
Death Magnetic finishes strong, with the last three tracks being the best among the lot and the band seeming to have rediscovered some of the rebellious feel that singled out its early releases. That’s one thing that it has in common with the first few greats. Another one is the first instrumental they’ve done since the 1980’s! My black blood cells practically magnetized upon hearing about it and let me tell you. Suicide and Redemption did not fail to impress. It’s easily the pick of the album and offers nine minutes of absolute pure evil bliss.

Overall verdict: It’s true they don’t make ‘em like they used to, but screw that, times change, and so do bands. The album has its pitfalls, but I have no doubt that this one will go down as one of their best. So if you’re already a Metallica fan and haven’t listened to Death Magnetic yet, what the hell are you waiting for? Go grab a copy. You can easily find one anywhere in MC probably. Or download it :-) And if you’re not a fan but intrigued about the band and are looking to get into them, I promise you that you cannot go wrong if you start with this one.
Happy listening people! and you can find anything you need on the official Metallica fan site.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Fridays

Are a representation of our slavery to The Man. We start work on a dreary monday and go through our daily routines till that last magical day of the week is here and then we scream probably one of the most used phrases in history; THANK GOD ITS FRIDAY!

but why thank God? Friday's just another day right? Why can't we say, Thank God It's Monday? I know Mondays are unpopular cos of the work and the beginnig of the sucky parts of our lives but then, why are those parts condsidered to suck? believe me i hate Mondays just as much as you do but to me, it poses an interesting philosophical question...

It is my ambition in life to one day scream Thank God Its Monday! and Tuesday! and Wednesday! And also Thursday! and mean it..

Enjoy what you do, break free from the system and do NOT thank God when its Friday cos afterall, its just another day. Lets not be slaves to our jobs and our lifestyle..

Peace and have a nice weekend :-)

Monday, September 22, 2008

Dawn...

..and the empty sun
rose above the horizon,
to find an empty world,
empty of reason.

Morality itself
was out of season.

Even the swish of its rays
as it swept along the grassy plains
chasing away the darkness,
was muted in enthusiasm.

For the sun felt that
on this day,
the mere presence of it's light
simply would not make the world bright
or clear away the remains
of a shadowy night.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Ask a dumb question..

CIM classes. Marketing Research. Lecturer happens to mention how great it would be if someone came up with a smaller packet of milk powder,

'It'd sell like hot cakes!'

Guy sitting in front : 'someone already did'

Lecturer: 'Really? how big is it?'

Guy: '150 grams?'

Lecturer thinks a bit, then suddenly asks;

'Hey how many cups of tea can you make with 150grams of milk powder?'

Girl sitting in front (after some mental calculation probably, cos she took some time to answer); 'Three Hundred?'

Me: (to myself) 'thats effing half a gram of milk for every cup of tea!' (then quietly trying to laugh my head off but not being too successful. but thats OK since quite a lot of others are also laughing their heads off by now.)

Lecturer: No hey dont laugh, now these are things we should know..(pauses, thinks a bit...) three hundred cups? you're sure?

Oh well... ask a dumb question......

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

That pothole on the road…

My life, usually so organized, does not function well without a target. A sort of an arrow it is. Leave it around somewhere lying about and pretty soon it’s going to get an attack of the heebie jeebies.


And I’ve got the heebies now. And a mild attack of the jeebies too, I think.

As you might know, if you have been paying attention (narrows eyebrows) I had it all figured out. I was going to get entry into my MBA, go through the VISA application in a breeze, and start a new chapter of my life abroad. Granted, I hadn’t given much thought to what I was going to actually do after the MBA (work probably) but hey, at least I had a plan and knew where it was all heading for the next year yeah? I could sit back and relax a bit.

But then the shit hit the fan. OK that’s not really true, for if the shit hit the fan, there would at least be some justification for my ultimate trust that the variables in my plan would work out. Am I making sense here? Cos I don’t think I am. To put it another way, the shit didn’t even get as far as the fan to begin with.

I had unshakeable belief that things would work out exactly according to plan. This is quite strange for me, the overbearing cynic that I am.

But to say that the ground was pulled out from under my feet would be entirely inaccurate.

No, the ground wasn’t pulled from underneath my feet. It was placed right below me just as I had reached the critical velocity and the precise point where I was supposed to pull the cord to release my parachute so to speak, in a skydiving context and faced with the lack of a better analogy. I took the leap you see, and expected the rest to just be a piece of my Grandma’s delicious ripened date cake.

Then shit happened. Or didn’t even bother to happen, whichever way you look at it.

So now I’m stuck with my mouth hanging open. Except for when it mindlessly moves to shape nonsensicalities without really producing much in the sound department. My legs have kind of lost their sense of feeling as well and are trying to move off in ten different directions at once.

Am I in shock? Hmmm I don’t know doctor, but can I have a lollipop while I think about it?

Veiled

Naughty thoughts, mixing in open draughty halls,
A change from the usual constrained existence.
                                                                 
Haughty friends, taking crazy bends,
On a machine with no rear view mirrors,
Criticize you with empty eyes.

The feeling dries,
The criticism has caught a fleeting wish,
A dream embedded, too scared to voice,
Lest it never come true.

So the time is bidden, the waiting goes on,
But for how long?
And when will this fantasy end
One way or the other?

Thursday, September 4, 2008

I AM AFRAID...

..Of what would happen if I lose track of my dreams.

..Of failure and of subsequent poverty.

..Of crazy bus drivers.

..Of even crazier pedestrians.

..Of becoming fat and/or unfit at any point of my life.

..Of not being able to live upto my personal standards of behavior.

..Of living upto my personal standards of behavior.

..Of being called a useless bugger.

..Of being a slave to The Man and The System all my life and never breaking free.

..Of getting too comfortable with current set-ups.

..Of never being able to see the whole wide world before i die

..Of some infected chap near Town Hall slicing me with a blade resulting in me contracting AIDS.

..Of going to hell and,

..Of Lady Divine, when she finds out i've copied her post!


peace...

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

The Revolt

Torn asunder,
The rabbits of the gate
Disintegrated,
Into nameless monstrous beings.

Struck with fear,
The hateful former dears,
They marched across the plains,
To kill the farmer.

Oh you sweet bunnies!
Corrupted with feeling
Sometimes irrational,
Mostly rationally insane.

A sandcastle of a dream
Plausible in a vacuum,
But helplessly weak
On the pragmatist's beach.

The hope of a lifetime
The life of a hopeful progeny
Seeking the immortality of glory
In the conquering of an immutable foe

Or supposedly so.
A fickle dream
Born on the backs of a courageous team
Go rabbits!

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Tagged! and back to some roots..

whats this I've been tagged by DeeCee to write about my weekend? Argh! well one has to have a certain degree of respect for these customs of cyberspace i suppose.. first time i have been tagged though. It feels like i have been initiated into society or something and it gave me a kinda warm feeling inside to be so thoughtfully remembered...

Ok so...

Last weekend I decided to go visit my grandma. Don’t do that often. And I think it’s the first time I’m going by myself to see her. She's 81. And still the coolest lady i ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Took the bus to the hill country where I was born and spent the first few toddling years of my life ever so long ago. Reached my hometown around 8 on Friday after taking my own cool time getting there. The air was that fresh dampness you get when it has just ceased raining a little while ago and it is cool and inviting and just seemed to electrify my lungs. I breathed it in as I walked across the bridge. The landscape loomed dark and green in the dusk. I removed my earphones from my ears and let the silence wash over a screaming Marylin Manson song. And I again remembered how wonderful it is to come home.

Umma greeted me with her usual enthusiasm. 'Anee my patiya!’ I had initially planned on surprising her but then I found out that she wouldn’t be able to cook me any dinner if I went late so that was that for the surprise plan. Because if you tasted her food even once you wouldn’t dream of eating out.

Well the weekend that followed was a mix bag of relaxation, emotion, tears and laughter. Learned a lot of family history during the chats we had just me and her. Sometimes morbid. Sometimes sad. Sometimes happy and sometimes downright hilarious. My uncle, the former alcoholic turned Japanese chef and one of my grandmas favorites, my uncle the cop who passed away tragically in 2004, my uncle the womanizing ballroom dancer turned uber-religious preacher, my uncle the control freak who is lovingly known as 'Boss' (whenever he is not in hearing range that is) in family circles etc. Stories unfolded with the slow deliberateness and patience of years of endurance and I listened on the edge of my seat. Sometimes with glee. Sometimes in sorrow but always with unwavering interest.

She told me stories of prosperity lost. Fortune found. Treachery, disappointments, misunderstandings, love and happiness. Of a time when infants died during births which were simply done at home with the aid of midwives. She told me of her father, who was an extremely wealthy man and fathered 21 children from 3 wives during the course of his life!

Her mother died when she was six and she was brought up by her grandma while her father re-married. And married again when his second wife passed away as well. Each of his 21 children, as was the norm in those times, went on to have at least 7 or 8 children of their own. And by now their children and grandchildren have spread across the country and the globe.

What a massive family. I probably don’t even know 5% of them. And that’s only from one of my grandparent’s side. An I had 3 more whom I never had fortune of knowing so well!

I love the way she speaks to me. She patronizes me of course (as I suppose she is entitled to), but she really opens up and speaks about a lot of stuff. I ask her once again to move in with us. Like my mom does all the time. Like my other uncles and aunts and cousins do every day. Endearing her to come and stay. But no, she says. She doesn’t like the weather. It's too warm. She wants to be independent. She has her own house, she has her pastimes, why should she leave and be a burden on others? She says. I understand. But still I am worried. I am worried about how much more time I would get to spend with her.

She gave me a generous dose of pocket money when I left, tucking it into my wallet before I noticed and literally slammed the door on my protestations that I am working now and in reality should be helping her out. I conceded eventually, so she came out one last time and gave me one last hug before I left. That’s my grandma. Always cool. Always composed. Extremely loving. Sometimes stubborn but always sensible.

So much for my weekend.

Monday, September 1, 2008

Goodbye!

A yellow post-it note, glue wasted, peels from the edge of my computer screen. It says; ‘Survey, Question, Read, Recite, Review’ and ‘SQ3R’. Some arcane study tips I never put into practice.

Now I find myself at the beginning again. At the end of another era, the hopes of which turned into weird dreams that went unrealized and instead were replaced with new dreams and new realities from which fresh hope sprang.

From which fresh hope had to spring.

There is another race to run and another starting gun will fire or has already fired in the background.

I’m off!

Goodbye…