Grind the system!

Woke up thinking about my overseas grindcore buddys Injakmati this morning, dirty dirty riffs that punch you in the gut and make you wanna bang your head into oblivion - thanks so much for joining us on tour guys!

from our South East Asian tour this summer

rehearsal with me on vocals

the line-up which recorded the split with Black Sister

check the band out at: http://www.facebook.com/injakmati

All about the dances.

Elgin Rock City 200? - This is how they do it up in the Highlands!

Cancerous Munkys play Saxon

Go on my son!!

Black Leather Terror and the Hammer of Hell

The latest lp from Syphilitic Vaginas, Alpha Antichrist, is a total belter and I've been been rocking it a lot while tearing around town on my bike, no red light is gonna stop you with White Line Black Fever rattling through your skull. As a band I think their releases have constantly improved and this rocker just keeps stoking the japanese thrash worship locomotive. get on it!



here's the only interview I've ever seen with the band, from way back in 2008, nicked from metal maniacs web page, enjoi!


Metal Maniacs: Since little to no info on Syphilitic Vaginas exists, how about some — when did you guys form, what were your initial goals, etc.?

Syphilitic Vaginas: SV start in late 2005 to spread gospel of black engine motor punk like HIV virus. We are: Yusuke Flamethrower — Goat Horn On Wooden Coffin, Haruko Outlaw – Chainsaw & Black Lung, Masaru Iron Bitch – Loud Thunder & Chief Satanician. SV rule the planet with iron fist you no need any band else, we are god of metal.

MM: So far, there’s quite a bit of mystery surrounding Syphilitic Vaginas. The (mostly) Japanese titles, the ridiculously small pressings, the obvious G.I.S.M. reference in the band moniker, rumors that you guys are involved in Netjajev SS, perceivably seeming Japanese yet releasing (most of) your records on an American label…is this all by design? Or do dudes care too much about such (sorta-) periphery things and not enough about the music?

SV: We have nothing to do Netjajev SS. He asshole. RFL Records send us custom part for our bikes in trade for songs, why that SV record in USA mostly release. Yes, design is placed big important for us. Satanic is essence of Nippon hardcore never die.

MM: Still, wouldn’t you agree that the context in which something is placed does help dudes understand something a bit deeper or more fully? Meaning, if they new your actual country of origin or what other bands you played in, etc., that they’d have a more qualified appreciation of what SV is doing?

SV: No, we no allow to perception people our power in a free way. Our majestic tyranny is to imposed for maximum effect, not pussyfoot!

MM: Now, about that music: Total ripping Jap-punk/speed metal, obviously nodding to the evil undertones of G.I.S.M. and Ghoul, but I also detect some mid-’80s English Dogs and Losing Control-era Broken Bones. Maybe even cooler: you’ve posted a Bathym cover on your Myspace page. Discuss the role of punk vs. metal in the Syphilitic Vaginas sound.

SV: Is devil hardrock sound = metalpunk. We make no big difference between, metal is punk, punk is metal.

MM: However, do you think the Jap-punk fetishizing goes overboard in SV? I mean, the HUGE hair, which may or may not be your real hair – and of course, the (mostly) Japanese titles, which may or may not make any sense.

SV: SV only use real hair, not wigs like Toxic Holocaust. Yes, we are fetish band. Everything out of control now no return. Fight for imperial Japan or die, we have no choice. Try join shield society but no take we’s punx, too bad.

MM: In other words, is SV a tribute or a parody, or maybe both? If both, isn’t that getting a bit too postmodern, like some university thesis or something?

SV: SV is real deal, Nathan-san. Forget G.I.S.M., Ghoul, Zouo, the other all because SV the only true Japanese metalpunk avalanche!

MM: What’s really cool about SV, though, is that you dudes are really drawing out the proto-black metal in that quintessential Jap-punk sound. Do you think the aforementioned likes of G.I.S.M. and Ghoul were aware of Bathory, Venom, Sodom, and Sarcofago back in the day and that they, in fact, integrated some influence from those bands?

SV: Who cares? They all passé. Quorthon is dead. Sakevi paint with crayons. Michiro Endo is pubrocker.

MM: The 12″ is being reissued by Hardcore Holocaust. But why now? Does this mean that unlimited-edition releases will soon be forthcoming? Maybe a discography CD? Or will you guys forever keep it “cult”? I know that SV will always be an underground thing, but I’d like to think your music’s worth hearing to more than 155 people…

SV: Hardcore Holocaust offer us multi million contract for the record plate. Yes, all upcoming record will press in five-digit edition to pay for our big gasoline cost, jail bail, alcohol and hooker. Discography CD later with many unrelease bonus track for fucker.

MM: Lastly, what does the immediate future hold for SV as far as releases go? And as for the band’s sound, how do you see it developing? Gnarlier, or more tuneful? Hell, maybe something like early Tokyo Yankees…?

SV: New split 7″ EP and repress of s/t cassette EP with bonus tracks. Also t-shirts, and headline Wacken Open Air.

The Earth is our mother...

Christmas, and all the hysterical shopping that goes with it is upon us again. Why not take a second to consider what this festival to the glory of capitalism means for the world around us? This statement by Chief Seattle from 1854 whilst extremely profound was also, unfortunately rather prophetic.

Mindless consumption really doesn't show how much we love one another, but how much disdain we have for the world, and its precious resources, which are part of us all.

How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the
land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the
freshness of the air and sparkle of the water, how can
you buy them?Every part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clearing and humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people. The sap which courses through the trees carries the memories of the red man.The white man’s dead forget the country of their birth when they go to walk among the stars. Our dead never forget this beautiful earth, for it is the mother of the red man.

We are part of the earth and it is part of us.

The perfumed flowers are our sisters; the deer, the
horse, the great eagle, these are our brothers.

The rocky crests, the juices in the meadows, the body
heat of the pony, and man–all belong to the same family.

So, when the Great Chief in Washington sends word that
he wishes to buy land, he asks much of us. The Great
Chief sends word he will reserve us a place so that we
can live comfortably to ourselves. He will be our father and we will be his children. So we will consider your offer to buy our land.

But it will not be easy. For this land is sacred to us.

This shining water that moves in the streams and
rivers is not just water but the blood of our ancestors.

If we sell you land, you must remember that it is
sacred, and you must teach your children that it is
sacred and that each ghostly reflection in the clear
water of the lakes tells of events and memories in the
life of my people.

The water’s murmur is the voice of my father’s father.

The rivers are our brothers, they quench our thirst.
The rivers carry our canoes, and feed our children. If
we sell you our land, you must remember, and teach
your children, that the rivers are our brothers, and
yours, and you must henceforth give the rivers the
kindness you would give any brother.
We know that the white man does not understand our
ways. One portion of land is the same to him as the
next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and
takes from the land whatever he needs.

The earth is not his brother, but his enemy, and when
he has conquered it, he moves on.

He leaves his father’s graves behind, and he does not
care.

He kidnaps the earth from his children, and he does
not care.

His father’s grave, and his children’s birthright, are
forgotten. He treats his mother, the earth, and his
brother, the sky, as things to be bought, plundered,
sold like sheep or bright beads.

His appetite will devour the earth and leave behind
only a desert.

I do not know. Our ways are different from your ways.

The sight of your cities pains the eyes of the red
man. But perhaps it is because the red man is a savage
and does not understand.

There is no quiet place in the white man’s cities. No
place to hear the unfurling of leaves in spring, or
the rustle of an insect’s wings.

But perhaps it is because I am a savage and do not
understand.

The clatter only seems to insult the ears. And what is
there to life if a man cannot hear the lonely cry of
the whippoorwill or the arguments of the frogs around
a pond at night? I am a red man and do not understand.

The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind darting
over the face of a pond, and the smell of the wind
itself, cleaned by a midday rain, or scented with the
pinion pine.

The air is precious to the red man, for all things
share the same breath–the beast, the tree, the man,
they all share the same breath.
The white man does not seem to notice the air he
breathes.

Like a man dying for many days, he is numb to the
stench.

But if we sell you our land, you must remember that
the air is precious to us, that the air shares its
spirit with all the life it supports. The wind that
gave our grandfather his first breath also receives
his last sigh.

And if we sell you our land, you must keep it apart
and sacred, as a place where even the white man can go
to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow’s
flowers.

So we will consider your offer to buy our land. If we
decide to accept, I will make one condition: The white
man must treat the beasts of this land as his
brothers.
I am a savage and I do not understand any other way.

I’ve seen a thousand rotting buffaloes on the prairie,
left by the white man who shot them from a passing
train.

I am a savage and I do not understand how the smoking
iron horse can be more important than the buffalo that
we kill only to stay alive.

What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were
gone, man would die from a great loneliness of spirit.

For whatever happens to the beasts, soon happens to
man. All things are connected.

You must teach your children that the ground beneath
their feet is the ashes of your grandfathers. So that
they will respect the land, tell your children that
the earth is rich with the lives of our kin.
Teach your children what we have taught our children,
that the earth is our mother.

Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the
earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon
themselves.

This we know: The earth does not belong to man; man
belongs to the earth. This we know.

All things are connected like the blood which unites
one family. All things are connected.

Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the
earth.

Man did not weave the web of life: he is merely a
strand in it.

Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

Even the white man, whose God walks and talks with him
as friend to friend, cannot be exempt from the common
destiny.

We may be brothers after all.

We shall see.

One thing we know, which the white man may one day
discover, our God is the same God. You may think now
that you own Him as you wish to own our land; but you
cannot. He is the God of man, and His compassion is
equal for the red man and the white.

This earth is precious to Him, and to harm the earth
is to heap contempt on its Creator.

The whites too shall pass; perhaps sooner than all
other tribes. Contaminate your bed, and you will one
night suffocate in your own waste.

But in your perishing you will shine brightly, fired
by the strength of God who brought you to this land
and for some special purpose gave you dominion over
this land and over the red man.

That destiny is a mystery to us, for we do not
understand when the buffalo are all slaughtered, the
wild horses are tamed, the secret corners of the
forest heavy with scent of many men, and the view of
the ripe hills blotted by talking wires.

Where is the thicket? Gone.
Where is the eagle? Gone.
The end of living and the beginning of survival.

Unholy Grave / Black Sister split 7"

One of my favourite releases from the Problem? Records days, thanks to whoever took the time to upload this.

"over the top into the machine-gun fire, your going to die"

"Englander!

Dè ghnothaich a bh’ aigesan ri Englander?

Carson a bha e a’ cogadh?

Cha robh càil ann a-nis ach cluiche chairtean gun sgur, gun sgur, anns na rumannan beag ìosal ud mar bhogsaichean, gun fhios cuin a bhuaileadh am peilear.”

bho Bùrn le Iain Mac a' Ghobhain

"Englander!

What business did he have with the English?

Why was he at war?

There wasn't anything to do now but play cards endlssly, endlesly, in those little low rooms, like boxes, without knowing when the bullet would strike."

from Bùrn with Ian Crichton Smith

These words from Smith's classic anti-war story Bùrn leapt out at me as I lay reading them in the bath tonight. What business do we have with this government, with the banking system, with capitalism? Why are we all so scared about their possible collapse? why are we fighting so hard to keep them afloat, when in the end we are just sitting alone and afraid in our little box waiting for the cold midnight knock.

The world belongs to us all, lets take it back!

moustacheOwar

gone but never forgotten, the true moustache of steel.If your not into facial hair, you are not my friend.

Ploppy's Pantry presents....

Easy Vegan Chocolate Cake

the only thing I had sitting in the fridge earlier today was half a carton of soy custard, so i decided I better make a chocolate sponge to go with it. A quick internet search got me a vegan spong recipe and I adapted it to fit with what I had lying around, enjoy!

cake:

175g self raising flour

3 level tsp of bicarbonate of soda

125g of marg (melted)

25g cooking chocolate

100g muscavado sugar

325ml soy milk

prep:

mix everything together and tip into two 7" cake tins evenly, oven at 190 degrees centigrade for 30 mins

icing:

150g icing sugar

150g marg

50g coco powder

a splash of strong espresso

prep:

whip up the marg with a fork, sift the other stuff on top, blast it with a hand blender till its nice and fluffy

stick the two bits of cake together with icing and put more icing on the outside.

Warning: after 1 slice you will be a bit like this...

Would you gamble with your life?

War All The Time in my mind are still a 'new' band, but they've actually been going at least 5 years. Musically they aint trying to re-invent the wheel, just a rock solid mix of Totalitar, Discharge and Doom, but lyrically they punch way above their belt. No worn out clichés about war and, er, war for these guys but some cryptic poetry that actually makes you stop, think and consider, something our average 'd-beat' band lost the ability to do a long, long time ago. I sent singer Rob a question about the first song from their 12" LP on Yellow Dog records, La Resaca, as it's become a bit of an anthem for me over the last year - enjoy. Also check out the download for the bands full discography at the end.

Hi Rob,I guess I just wanna know what the first song from the War All The Time LP, La Resaca, is all about? I myself have found the lyrics to be pretty powerful and a bit of internet research pulled up a novel with the same name which seems to have some similar themes to my interpretation running through it (if it is touching on the novel is there an English translation?) or am I way off the mark and it's just a song about table football.

Rob: Firstly I've never heard of the book, so that's a coincidence. that song, like some of the others has a double meaning. Resaca in Spanish means undertow (as is when the tide meets land etc), but in colloquial Iberian Spanish it means hangover (from booze/drugs). This was the start of my writing these words. So the song itself is about people who have lived a life on the fringe - whether it be activists, artists, life long doleys or whoever – and then change as they get older. It basically asks if it is possible to resist burnout and stay true to ones beliefs and dreams. The other side of my thoughts as I was thinking about this was the effect that substance abuse has on this process of burnout - and on my own life in this respect. As with many WATT songs there is layered meaning (hence our thoughts in naming the band - WATT in the big bad world as well as WATT personally.)

La Resaca.

would you gamble with your life

to leave this pit of iniquity

the flame is doused,

drugged and doped

as the rip drags us under

would you take me

under with you

War All The Time 2006-2008