Editorial

Agalloch are no more. Sort of. Neill Jameson thinks someone’s dick might have gotten in the way of things. 

You might wanna double-check the price on that Purple Rain deluxe reissue.  

Hope you’re enjoying that limited edition Marilyn Manson Antichrist Superstar cassette you picked up Saturday. 

This week, the metal community lost one of the oldest and most beloved pieces of its backbone, Jim “Sadist” Konya. 

A bit back, I wrote a piece on our blog about how women are treated in metal, and I learned a lot from the experience. The main takeaway? Holy shit, are there a lot of stupid people out there.

I recently realized that I’ve been having more and more discussions with people about how women are treated within the metal scene, and music in general. Turns out my knee-jerk reaction to throw jokes at the problem wasn’t the best way to address it.

The intro is long. Nearly 50 seconds without tipping its hand. A new band should be terrified to open a record like this, worried that potential listeners will get bored with a lone ride cymbal and high, jangly guitar chord. And it’s certainly not something a discerning producer is going to throw on the radio. But then comes that growl—Are you reeeeeaaaady?!—and you hear a musical revolution being born… Which then died, less than a decade later.

It’s now the summer season, where half of you will make some joke that wasn’t funny the last seven years you told it about being a vampire that burns in the sun. It’s also festival season, where a majority of you go out to various places in packs and get shit-house drunk while not paying attention to any of the bands you claimed you wanted to see, yet be fully prepared to complain about the bands you didn’t like.