Wednesday, 27 June 2018

An Evening of Riff with Dublin's Flashpoint.

Heavy metal is the drunkest music possible. It is the music of bottle bankers and willy-proud vagrants. If pride and shame fucked in a bin and gave birth to a muscular longhair in a speed metal belly top – that would be the genesis of all metal that is true and righteous.

But metal is a simple kind of creature. Like the honey bee, it collects and it creates. But that doesn’t mean that the genre hasn’t stuck its fingers in many different pies, often claiming those pies as their own. Some of the best new metal bands are a hideous cocktail of their own antithetical influences or cultural quirks. Sigh and Abigail branded their black metal with distinctively Japanese themes and structures, while the entire nation of Finland is essentially one extended flute solo over blast beats.

Metal might stumble drunkenly, but it does not stumble down narrow alleys.

Putting your own brand on a well-established music is a dangerous thing to do in a community akin to leather-clad Trekkies – but Ireland’s own Flashpoint did it. And it works.

Originating from the street-dwelling Dublin Hardcore Scene, Flashpoint’s hardcore-inspired heavy metal (or New Wave of Irish Heavy Metal) is the result of man discovering fire, keeping himself warm for a while, before ultimately realising it can be used to immolate his fellow man. They’ve repurposed both hardcore and traditional metal, and it’s a lil’ sumthin’ sumthin’.

But above it all, at the very pinnacle of this mountain of crushed cans and sun-bleached skulls – is the almighty riff.

As connoisseurs of the riff, Dublin’s Flashpoint are here to share with us some of the riffs that never fail to make their heads bang and their balls go septic. They will also, quite naturally, pair off these riffs with their choice of accompanying beverage.  So sit your laptop on your coffee table, crack open a can (bottles are false) and be ready to push open the gates of heft.


Matthew pairs off this mighty riff with ritually deconsecrated red wine buried underground for 50 years.


Ciaran begins most nights with this track and a scauldy bottle of Buckfast, as he says "no better way to start a night of madness."


Karl, a minimalist like myself, pairs off his old school doom with a pint of Guinness in praise of the dark lord.


.Kinch takes his Mercyful Fate with a double baileys, no ice - a drink The King himself couldn't refuse. 


A warm tin of Dutch Gold. No further comment.

You can listen to Flashpoint's skull-fucking debut 'Swing At The King' right here, you fucking cowards.

Thursday, 21 June 2018

27 Things That Are Electric Wizard

1. Disregarding the law.

2. Wearing denim when denim is not weather appropriate.

3. Accepting The Divil 

4. Being Mike Logan from Cannibal Ferox.

5. Saying things like "groovy" or "bitchin".

6. Constantly referring to The Master™. That which is The Divil™.

7.  Riding a motorcycle into the void as the clock strikes midnight.

8. Using your magical powers for the purpose of great evil.

9. Standing atop a mountain, naked as birth, calling forth The Unknown™.

10. Just doing bad shit all the time.

11. Disregarding the audio spectrum.

12. Living forever.

13. Being Christopher Lee.

14. Being too stoned to act out evil compulsions.

15. Reading the works of Aleister Crowley backwards in a candle-lit dungeon.

16. Telling The Divilhow happy you are that it is your master every day.

17. Shunning your community.

18. Having a deep knowledge of the fathomless.

19. Asking things like "You got the cheese?"

20. Knowing that 'Alucarda' is ' A Dracula' spelled backwards. Ooooo!

21. Not kneeling when you're supposed to kneel at mass.

22. Your entire social circle is comprised of people who look like the bullies.

23. Being in a cult that isn't one of those lovey-dovey cults.

24. Being the leader of a non-lovey-dovey cult.

25. Having a second hatred gland where your love gland should be.

26. Skeletons tell each other scary stories about your lungs.

27. The Divilis in your WhatsApp group.


Monday, 18 June 2018

Miami Vice/X-Files/Harry and the Hendersons Crossover Episode Pitch

(Harry's lifeless corpse lays on a hotel bed, a syringe hanging from his furry arm. He is surrounded by a forensic team who are snapping photographs of the scene. Sonny Crockett and Ricardo Tubbs enter.)

Okay, so who's the dead carpet and why did we get the call?

Mexican Brown. The kind being shipped by the Moreno family.


This 'dead carpet' was our man on the inside.

(Crockett inspects the body)

Looks like he went in a little over his head.

Understatement of the century. Morphine content in his bloodstream was 6.50 milligrams per litre. 

Enough junk to bury the Morenos four times over.

You said it, partner.

(Mulder and Scully enter the hotel room, flashing their FBI IDs to Castillo and other members of Vice, before inspecting Harry's body themselves.)

Looks like the G-force have arrived.

And I ain't waiting to find out why they're over here making noise.

(Crockett approaches Mulder and looks him up and down)

I'm guessing you didn't get the memo. This is our guy and this is our line. You run out of paperwork?

And I'm going to assume you aren't familiar with law enforcement hierarchy.

This is our jurisdiction, sister.

And it's our business now.

(Mulder turns his attention away from Harry's corpse.)

Scully, can I speak to you in private?

(Scully and Mulder walk outside of the apartment and stand in the hall)

Scully, how much do you know about the sasquatch?

Please, Mulder. Please don't tell me this is why you insisted on us coming here.

The sasquatch has been sighted most frequently along the Southeastern United States since the 60s.


We're in Miami, Scully. What if this Harry guy is the sasquatch?

Or, if you would humour me for just a minute - this is a case of hypertrichosis. A rare affliction, admittedly, but something far more credible to include in our report back to Skinner.

Scully. There is an nine-foot tall bipedal creature with ape-like features and enough heroin in its system to kill seven men. Do you really think this is all comes down to a hairy back?

(Tubbs and Crockett enter the hall and confront Mulder and Scully)

Now, I don't know what you guys plan on doing here or why you think you can just walk in here and run the show, but let me tell you something...

(Harry suddenly appears from the hotel room door, fully lucid. The room is stunned and silent)


*Upbeat electronic music plays and opening credits roll*