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I was going through my MySpace friend requests today, and after clearing out the dozens of hot chicks asking me to check out their webcams I came across this nasty little treat: a mysterious black metal band from Ohio by the not-really-metal-on-first-glance-but-if-you-think-about-it-it's-actually-pretty-metal name of Boot. (Or BOOT, as they—or possibly just he—prefer to style it.) There's been a running trend in black metal recently of recording as lo-fi as possible without producing a tape full of static—like early Sebadoh, if you replace passive-aggressiveness with flat-out bloodlust—and the two cuts on Boot's MySpace sound like they were recorded on a four-track with distortion on everything. Then sunk in a bog. Then dug up. Then puked on. The close proximity of Mayhem and Wolf Eyes in Boot's top 8 is a good indicator of what's going on: songs that live up to the fuck-you sound quality, twisted balls of foul-mouthed hate covered in shit and backed up by the cheapest drum machine imaginable. RIYL feeling miserable and occasionally have fantasies about killing all of the humans.
The Watain show last week was a fantastic example of how black metal can incorporate actual melody, dynamics, and variations in tempo, while still remaining totally fucking evil. But it ruled even more for inspiring probably the most romantic Craigslist missed connection I've ever seen:
"You were wearing a Gorgoroth tshirt, front row most of the time, trancing and transforming, fending off collateral damage, really enjoying yourself. Lots of hair, soothing smile. I was about two people to your right. Let's manifest the god of death."
Dudes, this is what true game looks like. Think about it.