If there is any true benefit to having an elephant in the White House, it’s a guarantee that pseudo “anti establishment” music acts start cranking out anti war songs. I’m not a fan of war hawks and I also enjoy a good anti war song as much as the next person. I’m also enough of a realist to recognize that it is an asinine assumption to believe that only Republicans are the perpetrators of war. (This is just the tip of the iceberg though.) But this is a foundation cornerstone of the Left; the idea that they can do no wrong and it’s those evil “Rethuglicans” destroying the nation. My personal favorite is Harry Reid’s masochistic obsession with the Koch Brothers. More specifically, it’s the leftover attitude of the 70s: the right wing, white collar, square majority against the “enlightened, open minded,” minority, counter culture left. John Green Liberals is what I like to call them. It only takes ten minutes of fact checking and cutting through the crap to realize they’re two sides of the same establishment coin.
I can easily put this pestering “I hate you, but I abso-fucking-lutely hate you” thought process aside in order to enjoy a damning dissection of Emperor Dubya set over top of a chunkier-than-Chunky-Chips-Ahoy lick from the boys in Lamb of God. I know this sounds like I have a love-hate relationship with LoG. It ain’t like that though. For me, LoG are one of, if not THE, the gods of metal:
- Call me biased because of my percussion background, but Chris Adler is one of the cleanest, most machine-like drummers out there today. Easily in the Top 5 for the genre. Speed. Precision. Fluid mobility. He makes it look so easy.
- John Campbell is the most underrated bassist in metal. Fact. If you find it difficult to pick out his part in a song, it’s because he’s locking in perfectly with the guitars. That’s all you need to know.
- Ashes Of The Wake is Mike Morton and Willie Adler’s lesson in shredding. Embrace the Drop D and its full potential.
- Randy Blythe is not human. I’m not sure what he is, but human ain’t on the list. “Shrieking hell spawn whose sole purpose is to audibly violate your ear drums in the best way possible” definitely is though.
Fast forward three years from their 2000 debut: a new president, a national tragedy, and a military invasion. Despite a seemingly unanimous blind support for our overseas conquests, these five men stepped forward to say that enough is enough on Blood Junkie from As The Palaces Burn. Reading through the lyrics, it’s obvious they’ve cracked the spine on more than one history book. While Bush Junior has the spotlight of this track, a few shots are taken at Herbert Walker as well. Musically, this track is at a level that they haven’t even attempted to approach on later albums. With funky palm mutes, machine gun double bass, and enough syncopation to make you bust out a calculator to find the down beat, Lamb of God hits a home run with this four minute onslaught.
A shallow little jackal of a man posing as a hawk.
Lease the blade the gun the bomb in the name of justice.
A violent panacea for what ails the nation
In advancement for the pig.
You’ll not wrest the truth from my hands
Eyes never closed clarity.
Clamped down in a grip so tight on ordinary horror.
Peering through a curtain of blood.
Retribution or vengeance it matters not which
As long as the pig stays on top of the ladder of bone his father has built.
Ashes to ashes to the dust
Eaten spiced with ambivalence.
The nation swallows it all whole
Weakened by their collective neck in the noose.
Commerce brings war
Jihad has come to both sides.
Eye for an eye fire for fire
Raining death as the towers crumble.
This will never end.
Left without a choice
By the fiscal elite
War is set in motion by higher powers.
A pissing contest for the unknown.
Left bankrupt we all die inside.
As a couple jumps hand in hand to their death.
Wrapped in swaddling lies and laid in a dumpster
Spoon fed shit doesn’t even turn their stomachs.
Gaping mouths yawn for more abuse
Someone needs to tip the nest.
The pig ascends
As I sink deeper
Waiting for my death.