Tuesday, April 27, 2010


Must love Alicia/Leia. And her ensaymada DJ headphones. Darth-Z has some ill rhymes, fo shizzle.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010


In support of our friend and dear Gonzo Army collaborator Ian, let us all go to the Rizal Park on May 2 to adore the noise. Amen.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010


You start to doubt if you can survive a violent pit at a venue the size of Amoranto Stadium. Especially when you're in your thirties. I've never been to a Summer Slam but all reports point to an extremely hazardous environment freed from the comfy walls of a club -- no safe corners here, bub.

Testament and Lamb of God playing in Manila, you see, was just too good to pass up. Hence, me and my friend J Luna got off work early and braved the sea of emo kids, metalheads, freaks and young orcs on the general admission p300 ticket determined to enjoy ourselves, if a tad anxious at how pit protocol has probably changed since we were last at a concert this huge. Who knows? The filthy little beasts might just think it's now cool to sneak in little shivs or razor blades and wound every other fan in the place, bouncers be damned?

After seeing how dozens of kids dropped down to Indian sit, enervated amid the dust, sweat and heat in the goddamn middle of the Lamb of God set way past 9PM and we were still standing I felt such relief. Relief and pride. We still had the stamina to stand with the best of the teen maggots for almost six hours straight (we sat down behind the elevated sound booth in the middle to recuperate for about an hour before LOG came on. our rest interrupted only by a trio of colorfully -- and I do mean crazy colors here -- dressed -- and, yes, they wore dresses -- girls who gleefully took pictures with me and a shirtless J Luna) and destroy with old skool St Vitus seizure flailing. Wow.

J Luna actually had a great way to free an immediate space around us to mosh: lean forward and whip your dreadlocks to the front, lean back and whip your dreadlocks to the back. Hurts don't it, orclings? For instant respect though I still had to resort to the tried and tested push, shove and growl.

Probably the only nitpick I have is arming the filthy young beasts with plastic Pepsi PET bottles. What do you think they did with the damn things when they got bored waiting for Testament and LOG's road crew to set up? I think we'll call it Inter-Pit Aerial Bottle Pong (occasional piss included).

Still in all it was definitely the best pit of recent memory. The chicken inasal we devoured after never tasted so good. \m/