One of my all-time favorite comedians in the history of ever is Jim Breuer and his Jim Breuer: Hardcore comedy tour. Imagine my surprise as I saw an autographed poster of this show which had been performed on my very own college campus. SIICK. Forever I shall tribute Jim Breuer with his crazy, groundbreaking, heavy metal comedy bit in homage to the greats: ACDC and Metallica.
Too much rock for just one hand, yo:
“To all of those who aren’t hip to the blues, we’re gonna learn them to you, teach them to you, brother. Cuz we’ll be around for a while.” – Albert King
The weekend life of Baltimore is something to behold. The streets roar into life in musicks bound to euphoric merrymaking. Every Friday in both Belvedere Square and Towson a block party is hosted with live bands and people of all ages. Friday night is jazz night at a wondrous, sketchy-looking, but altogether wicked club called the Haven. Fridays are also home to local band night at Fletcher’s. The entire strip of Fell’s Points lights up in music, light, and drinking spirits at every direction… whether it is the jazz band playing under the park gazebo, an indie woman playing acoustic at a band, or stylin folk dancing the salsa at the Latin Place. This is all fine and well… but for the longest time, I’ve been searching for a live blues rock venue. The Cat’s Eye Pub ladies and gents- home to a wicked Baltimore blues flavor: Rude Dog’s Rhythm Revue.
Rude Dog is quite the gathering- with such characters such as the spiky gray-haired middle-age man who sings and plays like freaking Eric Clapton, a black Santana playing killer blues riffs and solos… these guys play like they know they are the shit. And honestly, they have a right too. Drop dead amazing. Unfortunately, Melo and I could not get many decent pictures. It was dark. We didn’t know if flash photography was allowed… aaaand we were carded twice, and was asked to leave the premises. Gyaahfkashasfl. CONSPIRACY.
That aside, Rude Dog Rhythm Revue boasts a blues experience infused with funk and soul like no other, playing in shows all over the East Coast. It is a MUST see when they are in town. Go to their website at http://rudedog-network.com/, listen to their music, buy their CDs. Rude Dog is TRUE ULTIMATE POWER INDEED.
Bluesklok, Bluesklok, Murdertrain ‘A Coming….
TELECASTER!!!! AUGH. SO BEAUTIFUL.
Rocking the leather jacket and shades at night and indoors. Sound familiar, anyone?
Metro Park is the glorious amalgamation of the three forces of nature, fashion/music/art, into a cultural uprising that remains to be seen. I was unaware of the existence of this oasis, but thanks to Melo, my world is torn asunder and renewed. This is the substance and essence of musikkers of all types. Want to dress like a rock star? No problem. Feeling the need to show your pride for neo-soul? No worries. Do you just want something totally mind-blowing and outrageous backed by an atmosphere of club/street/rocker flavor? Search no more. This particular Metro Park is located in the Towson Mall, fronted by a turn-table in which from time to time DJs scratch their souls away to bass pumping glory. Such brands like Affliction sport amazing pieces of fashion that will make anyone, and I mean anyone, stop and stare in awe… while others like Obey rise up in tongues of activism and revolution.
DISCLAIMER: Be a very careful and smart shopper. Metro Park can easily seduce you into shelling out every piece of monetary supplement you have on your person. That, and some of their products are super expensive. That’s why you always go to the clearance rack. I’ve gotten amazing shirts at prices around 13, 14, 15. Sick as hell. And… OBEY is officially the brand of choice for It’s Always A Conspiracy. SHOW YOUR SUPPORT.
http://www.metroparkusa.com/index
PREPARE YOURSELF MORTALS FOR YOU SHALL BEHOLD WONDERS.
MWAHAAAAHAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAA. RAPTURE.
Toxicity Inspector T-shirt by Obey Clothing
Black with imagery that will invariably be tied to Goth, Emo, Metalhead and/or Satanist archetypes by others. Typical of me.
“… Power without justice is violence.” -Fighter in the Wind
A legendary blues session, comprised of legendary blues guitarists each in their own right: BB King, Eric Clapton, Buddy Rich, and Jim Vaughan. Melo knows this song too damn well by now. I play this video constantly while butchering up BB King’s amazing vocals in the process. But seriously, watch this vid and I swear you will be doing it too.
One day, you’ll see… I’m gonna be a bluesman.
Rock me baby. Rock me slow.
This is Mike. In my phone, he’s listed as Martial Arts Mike because I never got his last name. But at this point, it is irrelevant. What is important is that this man is a true brother from another mother, where in some strange twist of fate/luck/chance (or perhaps the theory of the 6 Degrees of Separation is at work) this man could be related to me. He is Filipino. So do I. He does and loves everything that is martial arts-oriented. So do I. He wears all black and sunglasses indoors (and probably 24/7.) So do I. And to it off, he looks like he stepped right out of the Wachowski brothers masterpiece, world, and phenomenon that is the Matrix. Call us both Neo; call him Neo and I as Seraph. In any case, it was truly BRUTAL.
Martial Arts Mike works at a Foriegn Flix booth at the Arundel Mills shopping mall selling imported, rare, and crazy martial art films of DOOM, with his partner-in-crime Ben. Ben is an avalanche of street and attitude, a compatriot to Mike in the way of the true ultimate fighter. In their spare time, they teach martial arts at a dojo right here in Baltimore… contrary to what Ben claims, in which Mike supposedly comes to class late, playing Tekken on his PSP. Nonetheless, I got their numbers. If ever the mood strikes, I think an all-out, brutal, sparring match is in order.
To add to the madness of it all… swords, swords, swords galore. I have never been, let alone, seen a Medieval Times. No one was around to even keep an eye on these. Melo and I could have easily slipped around the counter, picked up a wicked instrument of death, and see to a truly colossal deathmatch… Maybe some other time, kiddies. Or at least in an setting where one of us doesn’t end up mutilated beyond identification in the aftermath.
…
Soul Calibur IV, anyone?
ANUBIS, GOD OF THE UNDERWORLD!!!!!!!
Choose your weapon…
A pair of kris. Chyeaah. If only I knew Filipino Kali.
Two BAMF movies we got from Mike and Ben. Dragon Tiger Gate and Fighter in the Wind. Check them out.
Chili cheese dogs. A insatiable RANCOROUS craving from both Melo and I, for this particular article of consumption, drove us by some sort of supernatural, divine intervention into the midst of a traveling carnival. An opportunity too good to pass up- ferris wheels, tilt-a-whirls, carnival games, funhouses, and mini-roller coasters breathed, lived, and perpetuated amongst the throngs of patrons. The Freak Out, a rotating/swinging pendulum sort of contraption, tested our fiber. I shouted and laughed like a maniac. Melo was hellbent on preventing the devilish winds from whisking away his beloved hat.
We came to the carnival as two, and we returned as three. Our greatest champion, Melo, held up his prize: a goldfish won by trial by fire. Its name was Barack. ULTIMATE POWER INDEED.
In the amount of time Melo and I waited for this ride, nothing but Black Sabbath burst from its speakers. Sick.
YEAAAAAH BARACK!!!!!!! You are the future. And looking as ILL as ever, Melo.
A red sun on the drive home. Photo op for the win.
The greatest movie intro ever. Raise your devil horns, you metalheads. Courtesy of ATHF.
