Ash Borer - Cold Of Ages LP

note: misanthropaganda is so much more fun when you view it on your desktop or laptop. Your tablet is fine I guess, as is your phone, but for full enjoyment and understanding of the artist's (ha ha) vision, take my suggestion. It gives the posts a look that's a bit more reminiscent of an old 90's fanzine layout, which is the whole point of this bullshit blog...

Ash Borer is a band that should be far more known within our shadowy circles than they are in actuality, despite their seemingly intentional mysteriousness. Well, they can't be all that mysterious if they have a Pandora station which is how I discovered them (sort of) about five years ago. Still and all, this band does seem to have operated under a cloak of obscurity during their activity. Not that they are inactive currently, but really who knows? I haven't seen, heard nor read anything about this band since 2016's The Irrepassable Gate on Profound Lore Records. According to their very dope website (hit the link, you pink) they were last active in 2017 on tour.

Prior to the discovery of their presence on Pandora, I had seen an ad of theirs for either a tour or a release (not quite sure which) in Decibel magazine and remember instantly being struck by the name which resonated with me for some odd reason. I also distinctly remember an ambivalent feeling towards their logo, as in I found it interesting but was not really sure if I dug it or not. I began listening to Ash Borer in 2015, as a result of a conscious decision made that year to check out more American Black Metal as opposed to European which the bulk of what I was consuming at the time was. I simply logged on to Pandora and searched Ash Borer since it was the only USBM band name that I had tucked into my memory and sure enough they had their own station. Thus, the love affair with this band began...  

As far as how fresh or original this band's take on the Black Metal sound is I really can't comment because they are the first (and only) band in this category that I've ventured into. What category is that you ask? Okay, that's complicated. Generally speaking, Ash Borer is considered to be an "Atmospheric Black Metal" band, a term of definition that they themselves have rejected in one particular interview I viddied on Vice's website (hit the link). I think this term can loosely encapsulate them but they don't seem to care for it. There's another term that has been used to denominate Ash Borer and a group of others (bands such as Agalloch, Wolves In The Throne Room, Fell Voices and Liturgy). That term is "Cascadian Black Metal". Now, to try and explain this subgenre succinctly...

Cascadia refers to a bio-region that encompasses what is Nor Cal and the Pacific Northwest with parts of British Columbia and stretches as far west as Wyoming and Montana. There is a whole ecological movement that exists concerning this region. Its goals are to establish an independent nation state within the borders of the Cascadian territory for the purposes of environmentalism, bioregionalism,  and civil liberties. The movement/region even has a super "tree-huggy" flag. I recommend viddying the wiki page for the Cascadian Movement. It's kind of interesting and has been going on right in our country, under our Roman noses, unbeknownst to most of us for a hot minute. 

"Cascadian Black Metal" then implies two main characteristics. First, it implies that a band under this blanket term hails from somewhere in that general vicinity of Cascadia, which simply is not so. Yes a couple of these groups that have caught underground rec' happen to be from the region, but it is still too small a fraction to make the broad assumption that "Cascadian" BM is a regional sound.

Second, it implies that these bands subscribe to a strong environmental bent, which may be the only true unifying factor that "Cascadian" BM bands have in common. So what does environmentalism have to do with Black Metal you ask? Look, it just does! There is the whole pagan aspect of Black Metal, and paganism definitely holds having a strong connection to nature as one of its core values and so that is how environmentalism probably found its way into BM's fringe ideologies. Plus, Bathory and then later on all the old Norwegian bands that set the bar for the second wave of BM made forest cos-play a part of the shtick. It would only be a matter of time from there on out before kids ran with the "kicking it in the forest" vibe, playing Generator shows out in the boonies at nighttime  until ultimately arriving at Satanic Environmental Terrorism. At any rate, it is an unfortunate and annoying label for a subgenre. I hate it more than the term 'Shoegaze'. 

Whereas Black Metal's tone typically sounds like a descent into hell, Ash Borer sounds more like a descent into the deepest, unexplored caverns of human emotion. A place where there is only the self; where the most crushing loneliness can be experienced either in a wide open space or a tightly confined solitary cell, and the only cry for help you can muster becomes muffled and distant to even thine own ears. The preceding metaphor alludes to two juxtaposed elements of their sound, the expansive wide-openness created by the synths and the constricting, claustrophobic sense of being closed in on caused by the unrelenting blast beats. There aren't any lyrics over the quasi-symphonic (at times) riffing, no real words used to imply anything or to guide the mind to any particular concept. The only vocals are distant howls and screams that swell in the background just so, as if screams of a torment not physical, but one born in the soul. Those visceral lamentations, in true Cascadian fashion (I suppose), reverberate over the music as if echoes through a dark forest (full of gorgeous Douglas Fir trees) at night. 

What draws me in so deeply into Ash Borer's sound is the moodiness. Despite being VERY Black Metal in their execution, the themes being conveyed are not of 'evil' or grimness, but rather emotional (I feel). The keyboard/synths on Cold Of Ages, the LP that I am strongly recommending, lend such an intense brooding feel to the songs. When the synths are countered with the flurried blasts it creates a feeling of soaring almost. The album sounds like a tumultuous flight into a maelstrom of dark sentiment. The band has quite a bit of work under their belts, out on all three formats. But out of the releases that I've been able to purchase copies of on CD, this is the one, the jump off... 

(front cover artwork for the Bloodlands EP)

Really, their illest shit is the Bloodlands EP, as well as being their most "atmospheric" expression, but that record is one of those vinyl only deals so that excludes me from ownership. Those of you that know me well can vouch for the fact that I don't like consuming music that truly touches me without paying the artist for it, but the Bloodlands joint is a record that I will have to admire via Youtube. I would have loved to fork over my ten to twenty dollars for a copy on CD, but I don't do the vinyl thing. 

Cold Of Ages is the one that I revisit periodically while the others in my collection (the s/t first full-length and The Irrepassable Gate) not so much.  Need a viddy to make up your own mind do you? Then I suggest "Removed Forms", which is the fourth and final track off of Cold Of Ages. Do me a favor, will ya? Sit through the whole fucking thing and give this austere, majestic 15 minute dirge the respect it deserves! It begins serene like a requiem mass and then just explodes into absolute mayhem. What a ride!

Oh and by the way, if you're wondering just what the fuck the term 'Ash Borer' is supposed to mean, here it is:

The Emerald Ash Borer is a type of beetle (ugh) native to north-eastern Asia. They are an invasive species with quite an appetite for Ash Trees, but other than that there is nothing particularly evil, sinister or Satanic about them that make them 'Metal'. But since it has a ring to it that's probably why they appropriated the name (you know, Ash Borer, Ashes, symbolic for mourning, mourning is depressive, hence the moody sound, bla bla bla). So in short, the Ash Borer is a beetle. God, I fucking hate beetles! Someone, anyone, please bring me the severed head of Paul McCartney so that I can skull-fuck it and then kick a field goal with it!

Goooooooooaaaaaaaaalllllllll!!!!!!!!!

Smooches, pooches!

Christian Death - 'Death Box' Box Set

note: misanthropaganda is so much more fun when you view it on your desktop or laptop. Your tablet is fine I guess, as is your phone, but for full enjoyment and understanding of the artist's (ha ha) vision, take my suggestion. It gives the posts a look that's a bit more reminiscent of an old 90's fanzine layout, which is the whole point of this bullshit blog...

(The mighty) Christian Death was not an instant passion in my life because quite frankly, when I first discovered their landmark LP Only Theatre Of Pain in 1992/93 or so, it scared the fucking shit out of me! No, seriously, that thing gave me the willies! I'd like to think that I was already fairly well-experimented musically at that point in my life but yet had never really heard anything quite like it -Punk with an 'evil' edge that would make the Misfits look like, well, what it was... shtick! This was yet another gift brought into my life along with truancy, Alcohol, Marijuana and LSD via the kind guidance of the patron saint of Miami Coral Park Senior High School Punk Rock. I am referring to Hernan Chavarro, alias Rio Dios Mio, one of the biggest fucking enablers that the borough of Westchester, Miami has ever had tread over its beautiful soil in government issue combat boots. (Also, Hernan can claim ownership of the title "FIRST SPIKED MOHAWK TO WALK THROUGH MIAMI CP SENIOR HIGH HALLWAYS".) I've mentioned his name here before and have listed his profound influence on my life, for better or worse. He's some kind of a carnival barker now or a whore-monger of sorts. You can follow him on @riodiosmio on the 'Gram. I'm sure he won't mind a couple of more followers ogling his wife's tits which are absolutely spectacular. I think he gets off on it!

That faithful summer in which I discovered Christian Death, we sat in the Sick Boy Flop House while the nightmarish tones of Only Theatre Of Pain (amongst a slew of other gems that will soon be revisited) would permeate from Ronnie Rosebrough's record player as we sat drinking, smoking weed, or just wishing that some kind of pussy would fall into that dingy room somehow. With every listen, my terror for this thing would diminish and become morbid curiosity until any and all aversion to it gradually transformed into fascination; and with every listen it would embed itself deeper into my psyche as if the record itself was an actual entity or some kind of demon claiming a new host body in which to conduct business. Nearly three decades later, this dissonant, spectral ordeal of music remains firmly in possession of that area of my mind which it took hold of in my youth.

Only Theatre Of Pain had a Death-Punk tone that Christian Death would never again be able to replicate. In my opinion, this was because of the departure of guitarist Rikk Agnew (the Adolescents) prior to touring in support of the album. Agnew's freshly unconventional playing on the album is hellish, and having recently discovered an interview of him saying that the album was written and recorded on LSD only puts the whole work into perspective. I could not imagine being on LSD and having this record anywhere near me; I would want it as far away from me as possible. To me, both musically and lyrically, Only Theatre Of Pain is the musical equivalent of fever dreams -odd and disorienting, veiled in unsettling, undefinable darkness. Rozz's voice is/was saturated in an effeminate, demonic tone that howls blasphemy and moans in mockery and lasciviousness. These traits of Williams' vocal stylings would only become accentuated and showcased later on in future works such as his 1992 spoken word/ambient solo work titled Every King A Bastard Son which I highly recommend.

According to Rikk Agnew himself, he called it quits prior to the tour in support of the album because of paranoia over Rozz Williams' plan of acquiring an ounce of Heroin for road stash. For fear of getting into conceivably inevitable run-ins with the law while on tour (looking all 'freak scene' the way that they did), Agnew flaked out. As a result of this,  Rozz carried on the name with a new cast of characters who brought with them new approaches to the Christian Death sound. Valor Kand of Pompeii 99 was amongst them. His name would become a contentious point of conversation for Christian Death fans for decades to come...  

As you can see from the right-front panel of my battle jacket, Christian Death is prominently displayed. Although, I must admit that this particular iteration of their logo refers to the post-Rozz Williams version of the band fronted by that eyesore Valor Kand. Look, I can appreciate some of that mongrel Kand's work under the Christian Death name, but would like it a whole lot more if he didn't use the title. Christian Death is Rozz Williams is Christian Death, period. I won't really break down how and where Rozz and Valor overlap because that would beef up the word count to this post by about a thousand. Valor Kand is a talent in his own right, (one talent is that he is banging his bassist Maitri who is way too hot for his mutated looking ass) but he would never be able to reach icon status like Rozz Williams unquestionably did. Rozz Williams was paradoxical in the sense that he was both an icon and an iconoclast all in one...  

(Rest In Passion...)

I relate to Rozz on a personal level because he was a product of a severely religious upbringing by his near puritanical parents, as was I. Let that be a lesson to all of you holy rollers out there that want to force that Jesus shit down your kids' throats! You may want to ease up on the youths, otherwise you may just be cultivating pure, unadulterated evil, such as Rozz... or worse, such as I... buah hah hah hah hah! That Jesus shit will fuck you up man! 

Other than that, all evil aside, Rozz was a true artist in every sense. Unusually shy for a considerably handsome young man, much like I once was, one would never know it from the way Williams took that stage. If you viddy the footage of their LA show in '93 on YouTube (to name one as a for instance) you'll see a fiercely confident Williams looking cool as fuck, holding the microphone while smoking cigarettes and strutting across that stage like David Bowie possessed by Satan, allowing himself to be felt up by adoring female fans and men alike. Pa' La Pinga! I've always been secure enough in my sexual orientation to be able to recognize good looks in a man but have never thought to myself "that motherfucker looks hot" till I saw the footage of that '93 gig. He just walks up and down the stage like a sexual animal with total ownership, in true Rockstar fashion. It's really quite enthralling...

The reason for these musings on the true Christian Death and Rozz Williams is that during the COVID-19 quarantine (which has been kind of great for me in particular... sorry mankind) I have gotten the chance to really dig in the shelves and viddy stuff that I have kind of neglected over the last couple of years. Amongst some of these forgotten heroes of my music collection is the Christian Death Death Box by the iffy Cleopatra Records label. I purchased this thing for $25.99 when it was released in 2012 as the culmination of a long search for the Path Of Sorrows album, which at the time would turn up nowhere (at a reasonable price, that is.) I owned a copy of it on cassette format when it came out but had traded it away at Yesterday And Today Records (South Miami incarnation) for some Hardcore vinyl when I drank the Straight Edge Kool-Aid in '94. 

Finally, when this box set was released I was overjoyed to find that Path' was included into the program. (Incidentally, the Path Of Sorrows LP is probably the most compelling Christian Death work after Only Theatre Of Pain if you ask me.)  So, essentially, I paid $25.99 for Path Of Sorrows (that was the thought initially.) At that time, the only other option was a used copy on CD for about $45 on Amazon. 

Now, the question is this, would I present this Box as a jump-off point for Christian Death? The answer to that question is an emphatic and confident NO. But, if you are already the proud owner of Only Theatre Of Pain, Catastrophe Ballet, and Ashes then the "Death Box" is a really cool release to have if you don't mind forking over $50 on Discogs at minimum for this now out of print gem. 

Basically this Box set documents all of Rozz Williams' work with his now widow, former Super-Heroines' singer/guitarist Eva Ortiz. (Legally speaking, it's a compilation of any and every Christian Death work that Cleopatra owns the licensing to...) Ortiz had worked with Rozz before, initially doing a stint as Rikk Agnew's temporary replacement and then with Shadow Project. In 1992, Rozz reclaimed the Christian Death name with Eva O. and put out two releases under the Cleopatra Records imprint consisting largely of revamped classic material (The Iron Mask LP and Skeleton Kiss EP.) Then one year later, Rozz and Eva would release Path Of Sorrows which I feel is the album that gave closure to what Only Theatre Of Pain had begun more than a decade earlier. Not that Path' is a stylistic continuation of 'Theatre; I think it's more like a ritualistic close.  

As stated earlier, 1993's The Path Of Sorrows is without a doubt the most compelling and provocative Christian Death release after their debut. It has a dense atmosphere to it, almost as if a dark sonic chamber that encloses the listener within walls of terror-inspiring sound. It transcends being just music in a general sense, taking the form of some ritualistic performance instead -a perverse, inverted liturgy. Williams' vocal performance is at the height of its' chilling, demoniac attributes on this crowning achievement of an album. Another especially noteworthy feature of this album is the eerie cover of The Velvet Underground's "Venus In Furs". While less drone-ish than the original, and of course after having been covered ad nauseum, Williams' and Ortiz's take on this classic and give it a more regal, ancient connotation.

Also included as part of the Box is a number of Industrial remixes of Christian Death's work on Cleopatra by what I am assuming are acts from under the label's roof. Cleopatra released Death In Detroit in 1995 and then Death Mix in 1996. I don't really want to pontificate my personal feelings on the label's motives behind these two remix releases because they aren't particularly favorable. Also, in a small way I even think that the remixes compromise the artistic integrity (or even the austere reverence due) of William's work. I could have done without them. However, I will say that recently I was sitting at my desk having several drinks of Gin to both of these remix joints and actually sat through them without fidgeting or taking them off of their rotation so I guess there's something to be said. I guess it is kind of cool to have these weird little remixes as background music to a get-together of your weirdest friends. They would be great as strip joint music, I can tell you that. Some of the remix culprits are reputable old Industrial acts, such as Spahn Ranch, Laibach, Leaether Strip, Die Krupps and Front Line Assembly to name a few. 

The word terrifying in most of its iterations has been used several times in this post to describe the most striking of Williams' work, and Every King A Bastard Son sent me scrambling for my thesaurus seeking aid in trying to encapsulate it. This is the spoken word debut by Williams who reads his unsettling poetry over truly frightening soundscapes. I haven't heard too many spoken word records in my life (definitely no more than a handful) but I can honestly say that I never imagined that they could be as powerful as this. It's like a horror movie that you just can't bring yourself to look away from or shut off. But asides from the spooky-ooky, Every King' conveys majestic tragedy, like Shakespeare interpreted and performed by a Satanic cult. I was totally captivated by it which is not a feat accomplishable by just any old recording of someone talking shit. (Kind of like myself back in the Tales Of Perversion days, when I released a 5 disc spoken word/rant set under the pen name Pig Latin titled War Against Humanity.) I am so glad the label included Every King' as part of the festivities on the Death Box because I probably would never have ventured to peep this otherwise.

(front cover of my own -now out of print- 5 CD spoken word classic)
In addition to all of the stuff on the box set, some of which may not have been reviewed but will be listed here now completely to illustrate the value it may hold to the would be collector:
 The Iron Mask LP 
Skeletons Kiss EP
The Original Shadow Project EP
The Path Of Sorrows LP
Invocations (4 studio tracks)
The Rage of Angels LP 
Death In Detroit (Remixes)
Death Mix (Remixes)
Sleepless Nights-Live (1990)
Every King A Bastard Son

You also get a DVD of  3/4 the original lineup doing a reunion in Los Angeles circa 1993 (the same footage that I had mentioned before.) This footage is off the chain! I had already described it partially and compromised my heterosexuality in the process so  you can viddy it for yourself if you hunt a copy down and cop it off of Discogs or perhaps you can viddy footage of it on Youtube by clicking on that there link, you smelly little pink. Whomever posted it mislabeled it as circa '94.

Again, would I recommend this set as a jump-off for the novice to Christian Death's work? Absolutely not! The gateway for this band is Only Theatre Of Pain and from there out the direction to follow is chronological (Catastrophe Ballet and then Ashes). But if you're a collector and want to go on the hunt, which we all know is thrilling, and lay down some bucks for a used copy now you know what your money will get you. Like I stated, I originally copped this just for the sake of owning Path Of Sorrows which at the time of my search was nowhere to be found, so I was pretty unaware of this things full value. Having really sat with this thing over the quarantine I now realize that I got it for a steal! Discogs has a copy or two I believe. 

So anyways, that's all I got on Christian Death and the Death Box. As usual, feel free to drop a line to me at MISANTHROPAGANDA's official bat-phone which is:

misanthropaganda@yahoo.com. 

There, you can tell me how I got Christian Death all wrong, how I'm full of shit, and how you hope that I die from snorting too much Ativan while drinking Broker's. If otherwise, meaning that you enjoyed the post and would like to be alerted of future posts, you can follow me on Instagram as if I was the Pied Piper and you all are some little rats that want to come and nibble on this here like its a Polly-O stick:

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Toodles, my poodles...