Life Metal.

October 14, 2008

What is metal anyway? A group of elements that react with acids readily? Or a round thing given to athletes? Are you telling me its a type of music? Since when? Death metal? Ah, I see. 

I am forming a life metal band, we will sing about cups of milk and crust punks. You see, all this death metal needs something to counteract the negativity, to make some balance. While we sing about birth, optimism, and giraffes, they sing about death, anger, and rusty nails. Dressed as men of the 1920’s, brandishing all instruments made of metal, we will take the stage by storm. No need to record, we will show up, uninvited, and begin playing unrecognizable covers of 80’s rock. All the while our trianglist, being the unimpressed careless hipster required by law, will be sitting back, yawning at the apocalypse, forgetting to play his notes. I, on the other hand, will be manning the cowbell. The instrument of champions, the bread of the breadless, the proverbial balls to the sack.  We will be called The Cacti, given our ability to attract curiosity then slap it away when they realize the truth about us. The truth of zero talent. None. We may be able to rhyme some of our lines, and use a drum machine, but that doesn’t mean talent. That means ability, the ability to be loved for no reason at all. We will end up collaborating with Freddie Mercury and the resurrected Tupac, creating a mixture of metal, death, and resurrection.  Transforming us into a Life-Death Metal group centered on the idea of doublethink. At this point we will go into hiding in Spain with John Lennon and Elvis (Yes, I saw Elvis in New York today.) for all of eternity.


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