Lost In The Sound Of Separation
Underoath
The Christian lads of Underoath remind me of a shady moment in my youth. My friends and I had taken over the Lapdance palace (actually a humble house in the suburbs) during a daytime session in which I’m sure we should have actually been at school cramming our brains with useless information.

It was a boiling hot day, so sans air conditioning, all my friends were in various forms of undress, the girls in bras and panties and the boys in their boxer shorts (no tightey whiteys for this mob). We were trying to keep cool by downing frosties and ice cube cooled biffos. The music that was spinning round and round was very heavy and the thumping bass lines drowned out the insistent knocking at the front door.  

During a brief pause between tracks in the audio onslaught, I finally heard the knocking. I went to the door, opened it and found two young gentlemen in suits and ties trying to tell me about the lord. My addled brain could only come up with one idea, invite them in!

They entered the darkened room and sat on the couch. My two most cleavlicious friends flanked them on either side and offered them a world of temptation. As the words and tongues lashed their ears, I could see a world opening up for them that might transcend the limited one of their chosen religion. As soon as I saw the chasm start to split open, it snapped shut, they turned bright red and got up without a word and ran for the door.

In the aftermath of their embarrassment, I thought that any religion worth its weight in gold icons should embrace a wider worldview and not a narrow doctrine that precludes the joys in bawdy behavior. How can you feel the glory of the big guy without knowing the glory in ones own lower region.

I think the boys in Underoath must have experienced a similar situation in their youth but they were smart enough to stay to the end and see it out. Because only a group of open minded and worldly Christians could mix up the secular and non-secular world in song and make it so heavy and so right. The body, the mind, the spirit and the perfect fifth can coexist.
Lapdance Larry
www.underoath777.com



Scream Aim Fire
Bullet For My Valentine
Speaking of bullets for Valentines, did I ever tell you about my first crush and the Valentine Day date with her that went wrong, very wrong? We first locked eyes flipping through the racks of metal at the local record bar and struck up a conversation (or fight?) about the virtues of British metal over American iron. She was singing the praise of Bullet For My Valentine and I was putting all my chips on Slayer (a little one sided of an argument wouldn’t you say?). Needless to say, she was adamant and I of course wouldn’t budge, so we soon reached a stalemate of sorts. She called me an arsehole and ran off and I chased after her. She was after all, quite cute and female.

Finally a few blocks later I caught up with her and tried my best to get the foot in the door. V-day was on the horizon and I don’t really know how but I talked her into a date on that most coupling of days. Maybe it had something to do with the offer of a free meal or maybe it was my charm, no strike that last statement, it WAS the offer of a free meal, no more, no less.

I didn’t talk to her until the big day, giving her less chance to change her mind. But when I got to her house, she answered the door looking hot and proceeded to tell me her folks were not home and to come in for a moment. She pulled the curtains closed and we were soon on the couch getting jiggy with it. Just when it was getting good, we heard a car pull into the driveway. I couldn’t find all my clothes in time, (all black and hard to find in the dark) so when the occupants of that car came through the door it didn’t look good, especially when it turned out to be her parents.

In what little I could see in the filtering light from the now open front door, her dad looked a little pissed but turned away and went into the other room. He soon returned with an evil look on his face and a shotgun in his hand. He aimed it my way and I hit the bricks. As the sting of the rock salt struck me on my almost bare ass, I knew that our date was probably over. Bummer, although I did save on the restaurant bill but then how much would have McDonalds cost anyway?

And if you were wondering what this all has to do with the new album Scream Aim Fire, it was what I hoped to do but never did but if my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me before I had to run for my life, I do recall hearing bits and pieces of it during the throes of passion and it sounded pretty damn fine.
Lapdance Larry
Official Site



Finding Beauty In Negative Spaces
Seether
I was house sitting the other night and the new Seether album; Finding Beauty In Negative Spaces was left behind in the CD player. I often housesit and occasionally the owner even knows I’m there. So anyway back to this night.

I liked what I heard at first on the high fidelity and turned it all the way up to stun. The sounds of modern metal with a variety of both tempo and melody filled the room. It was heavy enough to grab hold of your ears and interesting enough to keep the grip on. From that point on I doubt I could have heard World War Three much less the thieves that had broken into the garage at the front of the house.

The music had my full attention so I thought those sounds were just the sub woofer getting a workout but as it transpired it was actually those law breakers making off with both of the cars left in the garage. I think they got a few pushbikes as well.

Man shit happens doesn’t it? Thievery in one of the blights of our society isn’t it? But I must be honest here and say this particular case didn’t really bother me all that much, I guess it would have had I actually known the owner.
Lapdance Larry
Official Site



Libertad
Velvet Revolver
We in the Lapdance family have never been vindictive. And even though I have never gotten the credit I deserve for helping this band to form (see my earlier review of their first album below) I still have to admit these lads really know how to rock.

When the five geezers that make up Velvet Revolver got together back in 2002, their union was always going to carry a fair bit of baggage and most of the press on their first album, Contraband showed this to be true. The reviewers almost universally focused on who they were and not what they were doing. Too bad as there was many a back seat session that was heavily enhanced by the bump and grind of that first album.

Fast-forward to 2007 and we have a sophomore album with no slump. Lidertad has been on high rotation at Chez Lapdance since release and every time the hidden little country ditty tacked onto the end fades into the distance, the replay button get pushed. The damn disc might as well be super glued in the CD player.

Growing older sucks as you all know, so holding on to the piss and vinegar of youth gets more important by the minute and nothing makes one feel younger than rocking out. And fortunately Messer’s Weiland, McKagan, Sorum, Kushner and Slash still know how to peel the paint and charge the testosterone. Besides, who would have ever thought that an ELO song (a cover of Can’t Get It Out Of My Head) could find rotation in our house without physical violence ensuing?
Lapdance Larry
www.velvetrevolver.com


Inventions For The New Search
Maserati
In the Lapdance household, we have a long tradition of family gatherings that end up in substance fueled melees. As a group, we are all over-opinionated assholes that don’t tolerate much outside our own interests; you know, your typical nuclear family. The only thing that can come close to calming the savage beasts that are my siblings is music.

Not just any music though, if it’s too light, instant riot, if it’s too heavy, it gets turned up so loud it curdles the dairy. Now the home stereo knows no other volume than excessive and any music that makes it on is going to make the tubes glow red-hot, so selection is very important. At a recent gathering of the kin, I came prepared.

I figured that some post rock shit would do the trick and that we could actually carry on a word or two of conversation in the lulls between the bombast, so I came packing.  I brought the new album from Maserati, an Athens, Georgia assemble of plank spankers and overdrive overlords. I popped on Inventions For The New Search and turned it up, way up and the most amazing thing happened.

My siblings actually shut up as this soothing music washed over them and then when the natives started to get restless, the songs turned around with such ferocity and volume, it not only drowned out their petty squabbles but it also brought my flat beer back to life. A win/win situation in my book.

Of course, the rest of the day denigrated into the usual disarray of overstated opinions and understated intellect but for those forty-six minutes the Lapdance clan were all as one and it was really weird.
Lapdance Larry
www.ihaveadagger.net

10,000 Days
Tool
Listening to the new Tool album 10,000 Days and Maynard’s musings about his Mom reminds me of a story from my wayward youth (is there any other kind?)

Growing up in the Lapdance household was never easy. My Mom was an acquired taste, to say the least and many were the visitors that came once and never again. It might have had something to do with my Mom making their ears bleed from too many decibels from the stereo, the stench of spilled bong water or maybe just the black carpet and curtains. Anyway, you can imagine my hesitance in bringing my first girlfriend home to meet my Mom.

She arrived at our front door clad in tight black leather and brought some dead roses to break the ice, so far so good. My Mom answered the door, sat her down and preceded to indoctrinate her is all things Lapdance. First she tried to send her running by playing Undertow at a volume level so loud it made my soda foam out of its can.

Next she asked her all those personal questions that mothers always ask. What kind of metal records do you have in your collection, how many piercings do you have and most importantly, do you know your way around the male anatomy? My Mom always did look after my inner wellbeing.

It seemed the two were getting along quite well until my girlfriend stated that A Perfect Circle was as` good as Tool (at least I think that’s what she said). Mom took more than slight offence to this and the battle was on. They started to yell at each other and the profanities and hand gestures were flying. I couldn’t really hear who was winning because the music drowned everything thing else out but the battle was heated.

Suddenly they stopped yelling, looked at each other and started hugging. Just that quick they became friends. You know she never did tell me what her and my Mom actually said to settle that fight but she did state that sometimes just the occasion of something is enough to bring out the best in someone.
Lapdance Larry
www.toolband.com


Tool Schism/Parabola DVD Singles give away
We finally have the winning entries to our Tool DVD Singles give away. The winners will receive their copies of the Schism and Parabola DVD singles in the post. Thanks to all who entered. Our reader’s rock!
Lapdance Larry

“My partner was a tool when the night before he met my parents for the first time, he went to a gig, got drunk and passed out with his head in a bass bin. This blasted his ears so bad, he was basically deaf the next day. He couldn’t hear a word my parents said and they thought he was an idiot.”
Margret T.

“On our second date my husband played me a whole Journey album. He’s been trying to undo that harm ever since.”
Jo B.

“My husband once played a home made music disc in the DVD player and it was so crap that it froze up the system right before all my friends came over to watch a movie and then he tried to save the day with the worst Monty Python routine you have ever seen.”
Brenda C.

“Look I happen to be a woman and like the band Tool. So please explain what you were crapping on about?
Sue S.



Hypnotize
System Of A Down
One of the coolest things that can be said about a band is that they create no middle ground. Nowhere in this gooey world of modern music is there a band that personifies that statement more than System Of A Down. People either love them or hate them, no in between and I like that.

So for all you non-fans out there, FOAD because the band you love to hate is back with part two of this year’s continued set. The new album Hypnotise follows the early work Mezmerize both thematically and structurally. Raging tempo and style changes still raise the middle finger to the world of blind consumerism and the stream of consciousness lyrical approach still pisses off those that know no better.

Listening to both albums back-to-back is a mind fuck of major proportions and guaranteed to clear your mind of commercial aesthetics. Sounding less Frank and more them, the band continues to evolve on record.

Making difficult to follow an art form, the new tracks are poetic, paranoid and unapologetic, if you didn’t like them then, you’re really going to hate them now.
Lapdance Larry



System Of A Down – Mezmerize Give Aways
A few weeks back we ran give aways for the new System Of A Down record Mezmerize in which we asked our readers to tell us their favourite Lapdance Larry moment from their own life. Here are some of the words from the entrants that will be receiving a shiny new SOAD disc in the mail.
Lapdance Larry

“I used to live in this block of flats and had this Scottish neighbor who loved Led Zeppelin, but his stereo was broken. So one night (incredibly drunk) he commandeered my sound system and played Since I’ve Been Loving You so loud it shook the paintings on the walls. Even though it was from my flat, one week later he got a noise complaint letter from the landlord. Karma man.”
PD

“I was once hanging around with my friend Billy in the room we had the stereo in at back of my parents house. We were cranking the tunes loud, so loud in fact that we didn’t hear the crims that broke into the house and made off with almost all of the living room furniture. That was cool though because I hated my Mum’s plastic covered furniture.”
LG

“I once worked at a convenience store with a guy who was a huge KISS fan. One day we were scheduled to work together the day after he went to one of the band’s concerts. He stumbled into work that day complaining that he had been up all night partying after the concert and proceeded to unknowingly work the whole shift covered in Kiss make up.”
KF

“One time during high school we threw a party when the parents were out of town. The party got out of control and we couldn’t get anyone to leave, so we hid all the grog and put my sister’s Take That record on and blasted it so loud that it cleared the room. Thanks Robbie”
HS

“I was driving at night once when a car off in the distance had headlights that were getting dim then bright then dim then bright, it almost looked like it was in time to music. As that car got closer I could hear the doof doof from his car stereo. He was playing it so loud it was dimming his headlights. As he passed me I knew it was him because the music up close sounded like crap.”
HL


Mezmerize
System Of A Down
In the years of my misspent youth, the time before Ritalin controlled the young, the music my friends and I listened to had to be fast, furious, not outstay its welcome and above all to piss off our parents. Come to think of it, in the years since, not a lot has changed. So in a weak year thus far for heavy music, my hopes are riding on a full frontal attack from those crazy lads in System Of A Down. And in a giant middle finger to the whole bullshit world of superstar rock, the boys have delivered.

Never a band to puke up the past, repackage it and throw it on the shelves, Mezmerize is challenging, confrontational and at times just fucking strange. What more do you want from a record? The fast paced and full-scale swap of styles, tempo and melody fits perfectly in my addled brain.

A calm intro is shredded by B.Y.O.B. with its anti-war cry and melodic interludes. Revenga continues the onslaught while Cigaro engages in a double-time inch counting pissing contest. Fairground cotton-candy moments that rot your teeth in Radio/Video and the drug fucked paranoia dialogue of This Cocaine Makes Me Feel Like I’m On This Song continue the theme of use by dates past due. Question! asks the big one and Sad Statue screams, leave your tired poor huddled masses at home!

Ending the album with a mellow wander down the boulevard of broken dreams would be a gamble most noise merchants would loath to take but System Of A Down pull it off. It also provides a tasty segue into part two of this opus due to hit the shelves sometime later this year.

There is a lot going on here that you could mention, like guitarist Daron Malakian’s expanded presence on lead vocals, the band’s insistence on grooves that are ever changing or the more melodic approach this time out but that misses the point. Just put this on, turn your stereo to kill and dose the grey matter.
Lapdance Larry
www.systemofadown.com



Contraband
Velvet Revolver
Not one to take credit where credit isn't due, I feel compelled to comment on the assistance I provided in the creation of this super group. While in rehab, I noticed a few of my circle-mates looked familiar. One with hair covering his entire face and the other a modelizer with a good build. They were at opposite ends of the circle but I suggested that they have a word together as they both came from the world of large back-stage riders and groupies o' plenty. They seemed to hit it off and talked about getting together to have jam. Apparently it worked out well because the next time I saw them together they were as thick as thieves. I even tried to help them out with band names. Guns and Fucking Pilots, Stone Temple Roses and The Wasteoids were some of the gems I gave them. Alas, they just ignored me and went on their way.

Well, fast-forward many months and their collaboration is finally released on disc. The name Velvet Revolver was chosen, not bad, but what about the grooves? As much as I feel shunned and shouldn't like this, I have to admit it rocks hard! A few too many slow moments for me (then any are too many for me) but the playing is inspired. They have taken the best aspects of their previous employment, got rid of the screamer with the bad bicycle pants and delivered a platter that shows old farts can still knock the young pretenders off their pedestals.

Look at the rock output from the last few years and by rock I don't mean anyone from that shitty retro band name starting with the word The camp and you'll find that the pickings are slim. We need more kick ass work like this. So welcome these veterans into your collection and once again feel the power of a few chords and lots of attitude. Besides they may need the money, do you think rehab is cheap?
Lapdance Larry
www.velvetrevolver.net



America's Sweetheart
Courtney Love
Did I ever tell you about my date with America's Sweetheart? It all started when I was led backstage before a gig to meet the woman herself. I walked past the door that said star on it and found our sweetheart sprawled out on the floor listening to vinyl records on one of those childhood foldout Giget boxes. She looked up at me with those dark ringed eyes and asked me if I wanted to hear her and Kurt's favourite album. Sure I said and tried to look interested. She put a slice of mystery plastic on the spinning platter and turned it up loud enough to rip the flimsy speaker from its pressboard mount. The smoke filled room swelled up with what I thought were snatches of Chuck and Di's wedding march but with so much distortion it had a strange death-march quality. I liked this sweetheart already.

For a while, we had a weird and wonderful time being chased by the paparazzi, the police and our own demons. I'll save you the gory details. Alas, it soon ran its course and I was cast aside, a battered but better man. One who saw an attitude lived to the fullest. An attitude in very short supply in the biz these days and one few really live like they have no choice. My ex-Love's self-titled solo effort puts these points in perspective.

The vocals are ripped out of the throat like a tonsillectomy done with no painkillers and the guitars are awash with the sound of turning all the dials as far clockwise as they will go, while the message in the lyrics is unapologetically fucked up. It's all a glorious grind and a much-needed antidote to the teen-warble drivel that makes up much of the musical wallpaper of our time. You may not like it all but you need it none the less.

So the next time your private space is invaded by the crap that passes for rock music these days put this Sweetheart on, turn it to eleven, open all the windows and teach those losers a lesson. This is the real deal in all its scary, self-destructive and drug fucked grandeur. Enjoy.
Lapdance Larry
www.courtneylove.com



Live At The Grand Olympic Auditorium
Rage Against The Machine
The first thing I remembered was spilling bong water into the vents on back of the microwave oven, don't ask why, then sprays of sparks started to fly off the fillings in my teeth and the room started to spin (more than usual). Next thing I knew I was transported back in time to early 1976 with only the clothes on my back and the CD player I had in my hand. I knew it was the seventies because the radio and TV broadcasts were even more mindless than the version we have today but something was missing. It didn't take long for me to figure out what. There was no Peter Frampton on the radio. Had I arrived at the time in history to stop one of music's blackest moments, the release of Frampton Comes Alive? I looked at the portable player in my hand that contained a copy of the new Rage Against The Machine live album and knew what must be done.

I used 03 skull-duggery and started to replace all the soon to be released copies of that abomination with vinyl copies I had made of the RATM disc. After that mammoth task was done I immediately started to notice changes around me. People's hair started to get shorter, pants baggier and more ink appeared under skin. I again turned on the TV to find a changing world. Politicals started to look more like Che and less like the faceless zombies I was used to. Poodle haircuts stayed on poodles and the Britneys of the day appeared to actually have talent. The conversations on the street also became more animated.

Just when things seemed to be unifying, the time police knocked on my door. Did I receive a medal for all the good Rage and I had done? Hell no, they changed everything back to the way it was before and sent me back to my own time. Now nobody will ever know how good we could have had it. The only people that will ever have even a glimpse of that nirvana are the people that can read between the lines of Live At The Grand Olympic Auditorium.
Lapdance Larry

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