The Wrath of Lapland

Tonight, by the grace of a fickle God, I had the opportunity to witness one of the most unique rock acts ever to pass through this godforsaken metropolis.

Here's a little recipe for awesomeness. Take 4 swarthy Finns. Give them a decade or so of classical training on the cello. Simmer over angst and Metallica. Add a dash of insane Misfits-style drummer, and voila: Apocalyptica.


/from Wikipedia. no, really.

Seated in chairs shaped vaguely like coffins, swirling their 80s hair on every stroke of the bow, gingerly plucking the high strings (of what appear to be antique Stradavarii) one minute and slamming the bows down on the bass strings the next, posing onstage like they were gods of rock... on face value it sounds hilarious -- and it would have been, had they not rocked the fucking pants off everyone in attendance.


/crazy fucking Nords, this isn't normal.

Apocalyptica started their career as a small-town cover band touring Scandavian music festivals, covering only Metallica and, let's face it, riding on a gimmick. Somewhere along the way they piqued the curiousity of Marilyn Manson, who snatched them up to open for his tour, presumably to lend him some sort of musical credibility. Manson strives for the chic goth aesthetic, goths love violins, ergo perfect fucking match. Apparently the Finns grew tired of this and struck out on their own, putting out at least 4 albums with more of their own material on each successive release.

One gets the impression that they've begun digging themselves out of a pigeonhole. They certainly have the talent, but gaggles of rawk chicks screaming out "PLAY UNFORGIVEN" after every song must get old really quickly. Regardless, when they're not stomping around stage during a devastating 4-part solo, they're remarkably timid on the mic. This comes from the fact that every song is an instrumental and their english is crappy. "Tankyu. De next one ees kolt "Somver neer novehr". Whatever, man. Play some more.


/oh come on guys.

Don't get me wrong, I don't really like "hardcore" anything, certainly not metal. But there was something so damn cool about these guys. They make it obvious that their hearts are into it, whether from the ridiculous poses they strike onstage or the sheer technical brilliance of their adaptive approach to the instrument itself. This counts for a lot in my book, as does the half-cocked smile I couldn't get rid of throughout the entire show, a result of "Holy shit, these guys are serious... Holy shit, these don't even sound like cellos... Holy shit, this is a ridiculously good show."

Schlitzed

Meet Franklin, the star of my recent and fucking glorious stop-motion animation debut entitled The Wrath of Rebecca. Unfortunately I can't find an online host to get direct linkage goodness, but hang tight. A sequel is brewing as well, involving army men and a doll's womb. Yes.


/a cat.

Beyond that, I just don't have anything else. More to follow.