Mixtape 33 - Weekend Nachos

Here is the 33rd installment of the Dreams of Consciousness podcast, featuring an interview with Drew Brown of Weekend Nachos. Enjoy.

Mixtape 32 - Mitochondrion

Here is the 32nd installment of the Dreams of Consciousness podcast, featuring an interview with Shawn Haché of Mitochondrion.

Mixtape 31 - Nights at Saint Vitus with Black Fast, Artificial Brain, and Sanitys Dawn

Here is the 31st installment of the Dreams of Consciousness podcast, featuring interviews with Black Fast's Aaron Akin, Artificial Brain's William Smith, and Topsy and Holm of Sanitys Dawn. These were recorded over three different nights during three different shows at Saint Vitus Bar in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.

Hate Eternal, Vital Remains, Black Fast, Inanimate Existence @ Saint Vitus

Pure death metal shows have become a rarity for me - what with living in a clueless theocracy and all. And so even with Deathfest looming, I couldn't turn down a whole night full of the heaviest of heavy metals.

The Obsessed, Karma To Burn, and The Atomic Bitchwax @ Saint Vitus Bar

Apparently if you're a bald guy of a certain build and you stand in front of a club with your hands in your pockets, people will just assume you're the doorman. If there was some advantage to kids warily pulling out their IDs for me and punks-turned-yuppies condescendingly telling me they're "on the list", I'd have some fun with this newfound knowledge; alas, all I gained was sympathy for the people who have to to this for real. (Fun fact: a lot of door men in NYC are actually off-duty cops. Antagonize them at your own peril.)

Dylan Carlson, Stephen Brodsky, and Kevin Hufnagel @ Saint Vitus

A trio of guitarists playing solo sets was an unlikely choice for my first show back in NY, but the guitarists in question - Earth's Dylan Carlson, Cave In's Stephen Brodsky, and Gorguts' Kevin Hufnagel - are as metal as all get out. Plus, a night where a group of musicians stripped their musical identities down to the bare essentials was appealing to me since I believe that art should be separated from artifice, and that too many metalheads confuse the presentation with the actual music. And hell, now that all my friends are responsible adults with wives and kids, what else could I do on a Sunday night except hang out with all the other aging heshers unmoored by family obligations?

A (half) Month of Sundays

I booked my flight to NY for Friday the 13th. I tried not to let the date bother me, but the weeks leading up to the trip were plagued with bad luck - my bank account was put on hold, my iPod died, and my computer has been shutting down suddenly and without warning. So I was preparing for more of the same.

My flight arrived at Newark Int'l in the middle of a rain storm, and the overcast sky seemed like an ominous sign; but almost immediately after leaving Malaysia and setting foot on US soil, things took a turn for the better. Along with the usual stern demeanor and no-nonsense questions, the immigration officer wished me a happy birthday; and when I arrived in Queens, a huge rainbow stretched over the city. [Ronnie James Dio, patron saint of gypsy heshers, and friend to Wizards everywhere: I see you up there.]