and in more heartening news, Napalm Death

... is still around, according to the New Yorker. OK, completely different lineup than my college days, but they're playing NYC and getting a preview writeup in the upper hair of the middle brow. Two things I learned from the piece: (1) that weird grindcore vocal style, which in my mind I always associated with lines like "My name is legion," is called "Cookie Monster." This is great to know, because it will enable me to tell a story that I love but so far have enjoyed only in memory. I was at a "death metal" show in Wichita with Johann, the punk rock conscience of my college days, and there was a grindcore opening act (incidental detail-- I was wearing a white shirt from the funk band Punkinhead, while everybody else in the place was in only black). The dance floor was empty but for two rather unthirsty (not anymore, anyways) and decidedly unpunk girls who I then considered "sorority" types, but in retrospect, I remember teased hair that definitely would not have survived a serious rush. After a couple of tunes, they called out to the singer "What's wrong with your voice?" He dropped the cookie monster (broke character? He had been using it for "Next song! Called! Ugga-bugga!" and the like) and said "No, nothing's wrong with it. That's just how we do it." Nice Kansas diction as you please.
(2) The review calls the ND wall of sound "gorgeous." That's the best descriptor since (but not better than) my college roomie Dave Wall's: "I like music like this... spunky!" I bet the reviewer also never heard Dave whistling the monotone tune of
Multi
National
Corpo
Rations
Genocide
Ofthe
Starving
Nations
Whuuuuuuuuuuu...

You want gorgeous.