The "FEUD SERIES" Vol. 5: Steven Adler vs. Matt Sorum: "He's Got No Heart, No Soul, No Feel -- NO HEROIN!!!!"

Former reality-show star and supposedly sober crackhead/junkie Steven Adler is on the attack! This time, his intended target is the Melissa Ethridge-looking homo Matt Sorum, who stole the Guns N' Roses gig from Adler as he was kicked out of the band for his rampant drug abuse, eventually succumbing to a near-fatal drug-induced stroke. Now it seems that Adler is back in the saddle of rock-drumming and is voicing out his disdain for Sorum's work on what should have been his gig. But really, what does Adler have left that would matter at all to the world of rock anymore? Not a goddamn thing! The motive here is to sell records, of course, so he can score more smack and stick it his veins or up his nose. It's sour grapes from a pathetic, broken-down, beaten old man who has nothing left except a one-album legacy, a mediocre new group with Chip Z'Nuff, and a ton of debts.



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When asked what he thought of Sorum's playing on GN'R's Use Your Illusions albums:

Adler: His were just half-assed, crappy versions. Nothing personal against the guy, but he's like a goddamn drum machine. He's got no heart; he's got no soul; he's got no feel. And as life and the years have shown obviously I'm not the easiest drummer to replace. All I know is, "Use Your Illusion" would have been bigger than "Appetite".

Whoa now! Bigger than Appetite for Destruction, the 1987 debut that has since sold 18,000,000 copies in the U.S. alone? Take the straw out of your nose and come correct, boy! UYI were pretty good collectively, but what makes you think that your drumming skills would have been any better? Unless you cut out all the melodramatic ballads, piano-playing, shortened some songs, and choir arias, I highly doubt you could have done any better. Axl and Slash would have still hated your guts and fired your dumb ass. And sure, Sorum isn't the most electric performer around, but at least he is saavy enough to just shut up and play and keep away from the vices long enough to produce music, unlike yourself, who pissed away a great opportunity just to get a quick fix and stick more junk up your damn schnoz.

Think about that the next time you're laying in the hospital from another coke-stroke, you haggard-looking old fool!

The "FEUD SERIES" Vol. 4: Max Cavalera vs. Andreas Kisser: Did Andreas Kill the Sepultura Reunion?

Yes, we know that Sepultura is still alive and kicking with a brand-new album, 2009's A-LEX, which I have purposely chosen NOT to listen to. Why? Because this isn't Sepultura.... it's not MY Sepultura! It's also not the RIGHT incarnation. I don't know Derick Green, nor do I care to know who he is, all I know is he is not the right man for the job. The job belonged to Maxipad Cavalera, who vacated the spot in 1996 after the band wanted to ousted ice-queen Gloria Cavalera, Max's wife, as their manager. It turns out that after all these years, Max wanted back in - or at least try to get a reunion of the original members to perform, which also included his ungrateful, scumbag brother Igor on drums and Paulo Xisto Jr. on bass for a possible one-off show or even a tour.

Quite possibly, at the expense of the current members of frontman Green and drummer Jean Dolabella, Kisser squashed any hope of that reunion. Cavalera claims to have tried his best, but ultimately failed. Perhaps Kisser was making a wise decision in this.... we all remember what happened to Anthrax when those Yankee fuckheads had that "Among the Living" tour back in 2005-2006 and they couldn't decide on the proper frontman for the job. In that mindset, Kisser was probably doing the right thing. But for the fans who want to see this happen, like myself, Kisser is a fucking douchebag!

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Max had spoken to another douchebag from the PyroMusic.net about this:


"There were reports recently that you had been open to the possibility of the classic SEPULTURA lineup reuniting for a tour, but allegedly talks stalled. Can you shed some light on this perhaps?"

Max Cavalera: "Yeah, that was with Andreas (Kisser, guitars)... I thought the time was good, it would have been a good time for a reunion, everybody's alive, everybody's here. So I just decided to call him myself to see if we can get this reunion (happening that) a lot of people wanted to see, including my kids, my family, a lot of friends. I know a lot of friends in the whole world who wanted to see this reunion, I thought it'd be a good thing. So I call him and it didn't really go anywhere. He just demanded a lot of stuff, some unreal things, it was not... some of that was not even negotiable. So I just kind of hang up the phone and just say, "I'll try again later, some other time". So it kind of, with things like that now, we just... At least I try, you know, to the fans — I did try my best to get a reunion going, but I couldn't do it because Andreas didn't want to, you know? So gotta wait until next time."

"So try again in a couple of years' time then?"

Max Cavalera: "Yeah, let's see in a couple of years what will happen, maybe he'll change his mind and be more cool about it."

Like the man said, guess we're gonna have to wait in a couple years. Thanks, asshole!

The "FEUD SERIES" Vol. 3: Ozzy Osbourne vs. Bruce Dickinson: "Bruce Is A 'Cunt' Who Needs A Fuckin' Psychiatrist"

Remember back in 2005 at Ozzfest there was an incident involving two great metal legends initially having a war of words and slagging each other onstage to it becoming an ugly, egg-throwing scene involving Bruce Dickhead-son of Iron Maiden, who mocked and ridiculed the brain-damaged Ozzy night-after-night, and Sharon Osbourne, who had had enough of Dickinson's mouthing off of her man. So the old limey cunt got a couple of people together who systemically starting throwing (raw?) eggs at Iron Maiden. To the rest of the guys in Maiden, according to the limey cunt, they were great. But she was saving her venom for the real target - Dickhead-son! Sadly, the other guys in Maiden were casualties to the frontman's mouth and no one was spared. Best part of the night was when Sharon declared Bruce-Bruce to be: "a prick!" in front of a few thousand screaming fans.

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Five years later, the news seems to have caught up with Ozzy once he finally came out of his coma. Limey fat-head and author Joel McIver of "The Quietus" sat down with Osbourne to discuss the incident.

Ozzy Osbourne: "You know what? Unbeknown to me, every night he was going on stage slagging me off. And that wasn't fair. If he didn't like the fuckin' tour, he should have said "I'm jumping [off] the fuckin' tour," but to go on stage and fuckin' slag me off for no reason… I'd never said a fuckin' bad thing to him. The bass player [Steve Harris] came round at the last gig and said "I'm sorry about Bruce," and I'm like, "What the fuck are you talking about?" Nobody had told me, you know. I said, "You know what? I don't understand what the fuck you're talking about here."

And so, I mean, Sharon got pissed off… it was nothing to do with me. I suppose Sharon got pissed off. I'll back my wife up to the hilt, but I didn't know what was going down. But you know what? [MAIDEN were getting] a few fuckin' quid out of that Ozzfest. If you've got something to talk to me about, be a man. Come to my face and say, "I think you're a fuckin' asshole." Don't be a fuckin' idiot. It's so pathetically childish.

Unfortunately the rest of the band had to suffer: I suppose they were pissed off with him. But it's wrong: I've never, ever, ever spoken to the guy… No, I tell a lie, one night they were about to go on stage and I didn't know anything was going down, and I said to them, "Have a good show, guys." But I don't like all that shit going down. If you don't like me, just say "I don't like you, I'm doing this festival but I think you're a cunt." That's all right. But to go on my stage and start slagging me off — that ain't fair. They weren't fucking slagging me off when they got paid every fucking night."

To this day I don't understand what the fuckin' beef was. I just don't get it. To go on the Ozzfest and slag [people] off, that's crazy. I really think he needs a fuckin' psychiatrist if he does that, he's fucking nuts. It's an irresponsible fuckin' thing to do. Sharon must have got pissed off with this cunt, you know."

Ozzy must really enjoy the fact that his old lady fights his battles for him, either because he is a big pussy, or is simply gracious enough to turn the other cheek and forget about it. In either case, it is disappointing when two well-respected groups of this genre take shots at one another rather than coming together. Still, can you imagine the image of eggs being hurled at Maiden right as they're playing the chorus of "Powerslave" and Dickhead-son gets it on the chin:

Tell me why I had to be a Powerslave/I don't wanna die, I'm a God/Why can't I live on/When the Life *SPLAT*


Sharon Osbourne calls Bruce Dickinson a nasty word!

The "FEUD SERIES" Vol. 2: Rob Zombie vs. Ozzy Osbourne: "Stop Stealing My Band Members, You Prick!"

As if to spark interest in his latest borefest Hellbilly Deluxe 2 this time around, Rob Zombie has gone on the attack of the legendary drug-addicted, mush-mouthed mumbler and so-called "prince of 'fucking' darkness" Ozzy Osbourne for stealing his bandmates. First, there was bassist Rob "Blasko" Nicholson, who escaped... I mean, joined up with Ozzy in 2006 to provide the low-end rumble after the spot was vacated by Robert Trujillo in 2003 for the more lucrative venture with Metallica.


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Then, and most recently, drummer Tommy Clufetos jumped the Zombie ship in favor of being the new skinsman after Mike Bordin held the seat for nine years. My question is, did it ever occur to Mr. Zombie that maybe his music just doesn't cut it anymore? That he's just an awful Alice Cooper rip-off with very limited musical ability and appeal, and that perhaps Blasko and Clufetos wanted to stretch themselves - albeit mildly - and go for the brass ring with Osbourne? Osbourne may be a dinosaur, an old relic who can barely scare a group of old women at a Sunday church meeting, but at least he can produce cash - either through CD sales, book sales, or touring with Scamfest.... I mean, Ozzfest.

Personally, I think Rob has spent too much time fucking up the Halloween franchise to know what true rock and metal is. My advice is, if your band members are leaving you, then the fault and problem lies with YOU! If they're not good enough, or willing to hang, then it's their loss and you need find BETTER musicians who can do the job that their predecessors couldn't. Just sayin'....


Rob Zombie, trying to be diplomatic while slamming Ozzy Osbourne for stealing his band members.

The "FEUD SERIES" Vol. 1: Max Cavalera vs. Fred Durst: "Fred Was a Jackass!"

Recently, "Maxipad" Cavalera was interviewed by some douchebag for some shitrag magazine/website whatever-the-fuck about the latest SOULFLY offering, the lackluster and quite bloodless Omen, which saw the "Bob Marley of metal" team up with 'Roid-rager Greg Puciato of The Dillinger Escape Plan on one track ("Rise of the Fallen") and Prong's closet-case Tommy Victor on another ("Lethal Injection"). Cavalera has been known to generously share vocal duties with a variety of other artists, both metal and non-metal, in harmonious quarters. But there is one such person that he absolutely regrets doing a song with, and is it any surprise when that unlucky joker turns out to be LIMP BIZKIT frontman Fred Durst, who contributed to the song "Bleed" off of 1998's Soulfly. In true metal style, Cavalera doesn't hold back or mince words on his disappointment at working with a man who he refers to as "a jackass".



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Question: In recent years you've been critical of your work with LIMP BIZKIT's Fred Durst on "Bleed" from your self-titled debut. Are there any collaborations you've been involved with that you regret now?

Max Cavalera: "Yeah, Fred Durst, you know, turned out to be a jackass later, but at the time that he did that he was cool. He wasn't like super-famous and the idea to use him was from the producer Ross Robinson, he was friends with LIMP BIZKIT. I didn't know the band, I just had a spot for the song "Bleed" and he said some guy could do some rapping on top of it. So I was like, "Alright, that's cool". I didn't know who LIMP BIZKIT was and then like a year later they were the biggest band on the planet. He also turned into a jackass, you know, so I was like, "Oh well, I've got this guy on my album now". At that time I didn't know... if it was today, I probably wouldn't be using him."



I once asked Cavalera after a show at Gramercy Theater in late 2008 when Soulfly were in New York about why he would lower his standards to someone so unmetal and vile as Fred Durst, and thereby soiling the legacy of Soulfly.

He told me, in his broken English:

"Fred really burned a lot of bridges with a lot of people in the business. I never had a problem with him directly, but I know a lot of people who would never want to work with him again because he is a jackass." Ouch... very ouch!

Fear Factory w/ 36 Crazyfists, After the Burial, Divine Heresy, Baptized in Blood @ Irving Plaza - 7/25/10

After years of inactivity and petty bickering between the original members of Fear Factory -- you know, that band with two white guys and two Spanish guys -- has returned to Irving Plaza with two more white guys and minus one Spanish guy. In case you were trying to keep up-to-date with the members, former drummer Raymond Herrera (the one Spanish guy) has been replaced by the zombified giant Gene Hoglan and former bassist Christian Olde-Wolbers was replaced by the wooly mammoth-looking Byron Stroud, and these guys join with original mainstays Burton C. (unt?) Bell and that other Spanish dude, the portly Dino Cazares. I wasn't around to see the original four perform, so I have nothing to compare last night's performance to, but from my vantage point, which was across all the douchebag yokels in the V.I.P. section, it was a pretty solid show.

The preliminary bands were capable and gave it their all, but there was nothing spectacular there. Baptized in Blood, After the Burial, and 36 Crazyfists (not too crazy about these fists) all belong on a bill in that horrid Summer Slaughter package, which I am happily going to skip this year, and don't belong on a bill of this caliber. Divine Heresy, who were actually second on the bill, is Dino Cazares' chance to warm himself up for the grand finale. Sadly, DH comes across to me as FF's bastard child or bratty little brother. After the shakeup with Tommy "Vext" Cummings, who seems to enjoy beating up on his bandmates' wives, like Jennifer Cazares, and was promptly fired, it doesn't seem that Divine Heresy will last much longer. It has been relegated to being nothing more than a side project for its participants with Cazares, as mentioned earlier, in Fear Factory and drummer Tim Yeung is filling in for Pete Sandoval in Morbid Angel, which leaves bassist Joe Payne and newest frontman, Travis Neal, with nothing to do but wait for everyone to come around. A member of the band even confessed to me that this was in fact Divine Heresy last tour, for a long time.... perhaps forever. Divine Heresy's performance is promising, but in the long run, I don't see them carrying on much longer.

Fear Factory starts with smoke and fog, a bit of ridiculous theatrics that signals nothing special but the arrival of the final act. The rotund body of Gene Hoglan is easily seen in the dark as he is lead to his drum kit, and the other three men - Bell, Stroud, and Cazares - take their place on the forefront as the crowd starts up madly even before they hit the first chord. They go through most of their catalogue, playing every incarnation of industrial metal, nu-metal, groove metal, death metal, and thrash while the pits break off into two separate areas. Fear Factory are able to sustain my interest for a while before the yawns and clock-watching begin for me. Granted, Fear Factory are NOT on my iPod and I am unfamiliar with their music, which will be rectified once I free up some space on my computer, but they are able to pepper their set with some songs that you can't help but bob your head too. I have to commend frontman Burton Bell for bringing up the BP issue in the Gulf Coast. He leads the chant of "BP must pay!" which fills the venue with cheers and applause. Even the neanderthals in the mosh-pits find time to stop kicking each other's asses long enough to chant and cheer as well. Bell, who didn't seem to want to divulge any information to me concerning his and Cazares' problems with Herrera and Olde-Wolbers as Raymond had and thereby making him look rather lame in my eyes, seems to channel his inner Hetfield rather well, but he loses his power and presence and shrink when the spotlight goes to the heavy-set Cazares and even heavier-set Hoglan. Fear Factory are not as devastating as I was led to believe, but they are good. I mean, they must be doing something right if Metallica chose them as their support act.

AFTER THE SHOW

The cro-magnon-looking Fear Factory bassist Byron Stroud proves that he is a douchebag and pulls the usual trash-bag, rock-star move of promising fans that he'd return to sign autographs after putting away his gear on the bus. But, of course, he never returned. He deserves to get cancer and die.

I asked Burton C. Bell and it's apparent that the "C" stands for cunt. When I asked him why he and Cazares cannot seem to make peace with Herrera and Olde-Wolber, his only response was a juvenile "why?" and my response was "why not?". Wouldn't it make good business sense just to write better songs with the lineup that actually wrote GOOD SONGS? Whatever went down with these four morons has bruised their precious egos to the point of unforgiveness. Bell was right, I haven't walked a mile in his shoes, but I'm saavy enough to know that if something works I keep my mouth shut and let that shit roll. Okay, Bell, you be content playing second-fiddle to the big boys and you guys will always headline the mid-card bills. DICK!

And could Gene Hoglan look any more unhappy having fans? He and I have had issues in the past, and have since made up, but watching him interact with other fans is like watching a mindless zombie straggling around on the streets. He's kind enough to take pics and sign autographs, but there's too much huffing and puffing coming from him. I know he's a large guy and large people tend to huff and wheeze a lot, but his seemed more out of irritation than just being a fat guy.

It would have been nice to say hello to Dino Cazares, but apparently he seemed more content to spending the little time he had with his lady than say hello to his fans who pay to see him play. And what the fuck is up with this "VIVA MEXICO, CABRONES" bullshit? Dude, we know you're Spanish and you're proud, but must you get all these little spics in the crowd all riled up like animals in a zoo? I'm Spanish and even I was embarrassed when you said it not once, BUT TWICE! A simple thank-you would suffice, old man. Is Mexico a corrupt and crooked country to begin with? Why would you advocate such a country?

Baptized in Blood: C+
Divine Heresy: B
After the Burial: C+
36 Crazyfists: C
Fear Factory: B+

Show Grade: B

A Joke Named: Bloodclot!

John Joseph, frontman to hardcore "legends" the Cro-Mags, is still at it again -- acting like a retarded fool dancing around in his undies like some gay monkey to the sounds of Kool & the Gang's "Jungle Boogie." Here again, he's trying to impress his girlfriend who is no doubt hundreds of miles away vacationing, or perhaps escaping, in Europe. Here's the hypocrite as he truly is.

Jonathan Davis: FAGET (Is he or isn't he?)

I think the evidence speaks for itself.

Charred Walls of the Damned w/ The Hixon and The Smash Up @ Gramercy Theatre - 7/8/10

Just when I thought I'd be an hour late for the show and miss something really good, thankfully.... I didn't!

As I walked into the grimy halls of Gramercy, I hear the sounds of a band's set already in progress. I don't even know the band's name, nor does it really matter. Rather than listening and observing the band and the high-pitched squeals of their frontman, who obviously just got off work because he's still wearing his mechanic's uniform complete with his first name, I'm too busy absorbing my place in the venue to really take notice. Maybe had a certain "S" shuttle been working properly I would have caught these guys in their formative, perhaps tentative, set in time to give them a respectable grade.

My head is spinning and my brain is pulsing against the cranial walls of my skull as "The Smash Up" set up their gear onstage. Observing the crowd so far, it's obvious that the local acts, which includes New Jersey natives The Hixon, have invited their family and friends who, quite appropriately, come dressed in regular street clothes - by that I mean, non-black T-shirt without Slayer or Metallica on the front, and no faded blue jeans. It's good to see non-metal folk supporting their loved ones when danger is so very near! Looking at the two banner, you'd think these guys were something special. Given a cursory glance at their Wikipedia page, I found that they recorded a song that ended up on one of the "Saw" films soundtrack. But onstage, they have the same sonic appeal as every pussy screamo punk band playing today. Their Wiki page claims they're "post-punk" but it's a sad lie! What I am witnessing is an imperfect mix of all those bands on the Victory Records label with their sanctimonious Christian bullshit leanings thrust in my face. Maybe they're not a bad band normally, but they're certainly the wrong band performing on the wrong night tonight. Set Grade: C

One thing I really like about The Hixon is that they remind me of an underdog band. A grizzled, but still hungry band, with members who are pushing past their expiration date. Still, they continue to gain ground with the locals and some reputable friends who put them on their bill - case in point, tonight's show. I first saw them at a basement show at Fontana's and their gimmick pretty much the same at that night: Their burly frontman comes adorned with a gas mask and spiked gauntlets. He utters a primal growl and the band takes off. They play fast and furiously, only now it's in a wider space than Fontana's. But the players don't move around, remaining content to simply perform without any theatrics that might distract. They play like they're still practicing in the garage, especially since their focus seems to be on each other and admiring their respective prowess rather than on the small mass of people in the crowd who casually sip their Bud Light. Set Grade: B-







The Hixon







The Hixon








Don Jamieson


I wasn't too thrilled to see Fat-Pig Eddie Trunk and Small Dick/Big Balls Jim Florentine introducing the lackluster Don Jamieson onstage. The interlude with Jamieson seemed rather pointless but obvious only because he's tight with Richard Christy and Tim "Ripper" Owens. Looking like Wolverine from X-Men, complete with mangled hair and mutton chops, his jokes are recycled, especially his Twisted Sister/Alice Cooper/masturbating to Lita Ford jokes, and somewhat generic. But what else can he talk about? Can't do dirty jokes at an all-ages show, I guess, and for that matter his set lacks any sizable bite and it matters less because his jokes are irrelevant. He has to resort to dick jokes and the size of Owens, Tommy Lee, and even metal god Rob Halford. It gets old before it starts and Jamieson's set can't be over fast enough. Set Grade: C







Charred Walls of the Damned







Charred Walls of the Damned







Richard Christy soloing


Despite the distractions of the various Howard Stern workers, like marble-mouth JD Harmeyer and squealing and very homo High-Pitch Mike, Charred Walls of the Damned comes out swinging with a better arsenal of songs and presence that seems to finally lift the night slightly above ground. Admittedly, I didn't care for the self-titled album, which was good for your average metalhead but not enough to keep on my iTunes, but with the experience and command of Tim "Ripper" Owens and drummer Richard Christy, the set maintains my interest. Owens wears his usual attire - sunglasses, Monster Energy hat, and loads of screaming vocals - and commands the stage well, but as a commentator he should follow the crowd's advice: "Shut up and sing!" I will give him credit, however, for using my sunglasses - our little rock star injoke - to full effect during "See You in Hell" by Grim Reaper. I hope he wears them in good health. But despite the dwindling masses who, by the last two or three songs, had filed out of Gramercy, the band played on for the few 80 to 100 still left in attendance without missing a beat. Set Grade: B

On a side note.... what the fuck is up with another strange interlude involving Sirius/XM host Jose Mangin doing a rendition of Sepultura's "Territory"? Mangin is capable and fun and all, but he lacks the gravity, control, stamina and finesse that Max Cavalera has in order to pull it off with brutal, primal conviction. An "A" for effort but a "C+" in execution.

Despite many shoutouts, name-drops and random, sometimes pointless, guest appearances from metal community (Jose Mangin and woman-beater Tommy Vext) and Howard Stern universe (JD Harmeyer? High-Pitch Mike and Eric? Brian Phelan? Who gives a shit!), it ended up being a decent night after all.

Show Grade: B-