Admittedly, it’s a cruel, heartless question to ask, and yet, can there be any doubt as to the answer? Could anything ever top Master of Reality? I ask the question mostly because I want to see if anyone sticks up for Vol. 4, which, apart from “Changes,” is about as flawless as an album can get. With the recent terrible news of Tony Iommi‘s lymphoma diagnosis, I think we’re due for a good time. So let’s have some fun.

Earliest Black Sabbath was nothing if not a coalescing of various elements into a cohesive whole. A kind of cultural distillation, ground down and remade into the singular most formative basis of doom — the album Black Sabbath. Only months later in 1970, they released Paranoid and refined the darkness of the first record, adding range and sonic breadth. While the title-track became the band’s signature piece, “Electric Funeral” and “Fairies Wear Boots” grew into the anthems of a subculture within a subculture, and they remain so to this day.

However, every time I put on Master of Reality and listen to it straight through, with each successive track, I say to myself, “This is the heaviest shit ever made.” And each song proves the prior assessment wrong — yes, even “Solitude” — until finally, “Into the Void” offers clear and indisputable truth of riff. It is pure in its muck, and as perfect as stoner rock has ever gotten. The standard by which the genre is and should be measured: the heaviest shit ever made.

But what about Vol. 4? It seems to have an answer for every challenge Master of Reality throws at it. A “Snowblind” for “Sweet Leaf,” “Supernaut” for “Into the Void,” “Under the Sun/Every Day Comes and Goes” for “Lord of this World.” 1972 found Black Sabbath a more realized beast with a perfected heavy rock that seemed to already know the tropes of the metal genre it was shaping.

I could go on. I won’t. Is “Changes” enough to hold back Vol. 4 from standing up to Master of Reality? There are people who consider “Solitude” a misstep of similar magnitude. I leave it to you to decide in the comments.

You know the scenario. You can only pick one, so which is it?

Stole this news right from Blabbermouth, and I expect I’m not the only person to do so this afternoon. Wishes for a complete recovery go without saying, and I know that headbangers, riffers and all the other miscreants around the world who’ve been touched by Tony Iommi and Black Sabbath‘s work over the years have the man in their thoughts today.

Legendary Black Sabbath guitarist Tony Iommi has been diagnosed with the early stages of lymphoma, a cancer of the lymphocytes, a type of cell that forms part of the immune system.

Iommi, 63, is currently working with his doctors to establish the best treatment plan and remains upbeat and determined to make a full and successful recovery.

This comes as Black Sabbath — Ozzy Osbourne (vocals), Tony Iommi (guitar), Geezer Butler (bass) and Bill Ward (drums) — are writing and recording their first album in 33 years in Los Angeles (still set for release this fall) with producer Rick Rubin. They will now go to the UK to continue to work with Tony.

If you’re reading this and you celebrate either the Jesus-in-Christmas or the secularized Xmas, then chances are congratulations are in order: You’ve made it through another one. The Patient Mrs. and I got back a little bit ago from the last of the familial hoedowns, and with that, an episode of Iron Chef America and our collected loot strewn about the place in Roman-style excess, the evening seems to have come to a conclusion. I hope you had a good one.

Since Friday was my office party and — class act that I am — I got loaded early, I never officially closed out the week, and I thought some Blue Cheer would be the way to go. In the car up to Connecticut and back yesterday and today it was Deep Purple, Sungrazer, Warning and Kyuss, but holiday Cheer is about as close as I get to holiday cheer, so I hope you enjoy it. I haven’t drooled over Outsideinside in a couple weeks anyway, so I’m due.

If you’re in the US and don’t have to work tomorrow, I hope your weekend continues to be excellent and that you get to relax a bit before having to cram five days’ worth of work into four the rest of this week. If Xmas isn’t in line with either your belief system, you’re celebrating Hanukkah, Lemmy‘s birthday, something else or nothing at all, I hope you had a good weekend whatever it may have entailed.

Along with a shit-ton of laundry, tomorrow I’m going to try to make my way through reviewing the new BeenObscene album, and this week I’ll have Six Dumb Questions with guitarist/graphic artist Scott Stearns of the recently-reviewed Bibilic Blood and the semi-recently-reviewed Morbid Wizard, as well as, I think some new music from Dwellers, who were reviewed just a couple days ago. Very timely around here all of a sudden.

In any case, much fun to come this week, so please, stay tuned. In the meantime, see you on the forum and back here tomorrow for more good times.

Of all the doom albums that have come out of America since the birth of the genre, these are probably the two that are the most singularly influential, the most pivotal, and at their base, the most doomed. Saint Vitus released their self-titled debut on Greg Ginn‘s SST Records in California in 1984, and one year later, the East Coast answered back with Pentagram‘s Relentless essentially marking the beginning of what we think of today as Maryland doom. The question of which is the superior album seems ridiculous even to ask, since I feel like what we should be doing is just being glad they were both made, but here goes:

Saint Vitus‘ Saint Vitus flew directly in the face of what was expected both of SST and of the SoCal underground. It was slow, it was lurching, and it was miserable. Saint Vitus did not have Black Flag‘s sense of self-righteous social rage — they had slow suicide with booze and pills. Their message was not of rising above, but of being buried at sea. Scott Reagers‘ vocals remain a blueprint for doom singers to follow, but try as so many do, the same black magic has never managed to be captured. Together with the foreboding bass of Mark Adams, the noise-infected guitar of Dave Chandler and Armando Acosta‘s unbreakable plod, the combination of elements was overwhelming. Even now, listening to Saint Vitus makes you feel like you’re drowning in it.

But if Chandler‘s guitar tone ever had a rival in that era, it came from Victor Griffin. One listen to the churning malevolence of “All Your Sins,” and there’s no question you’re hearing some of the most wretched doom since Sabbath‘s heyday. As much as Pentagram came to be known later for frontman Bobby Liebling‘s fabled drug addiction and a constantly rotating lineup, with Griffin, drummer Joe Hasselvander and bassist Martin Swaney (who had performed together as the trio Death Row), the band’s overdue first full-length was a milestone, and 26 years after its release, the title Relentless feels no less appropriate. “Sign of the Wolf,” “The Ghoul,” “Relentless,” “20 Buck Spin” — these are the standards by which we measure what doom has become since.

I could go on at length about both these records, but you get the point. Here’s what it boils down to: Two epics, two black covers, two of American doom’s greatest, and you’ve got to pick one. Damned if I can choose, but if you’re feeling more decisive, please, have at it in the comments.

Mike H. posted the link on the forum to a Billboard article of the announcement. I guess I should be excited about this, since it’s Sabbath, but really, does a Rick Rubin-produced new Black Sabbath record with Ozzy Osbourne, Tony Iommi, Geezer Butler and Bill Ward sound like a good idea? I was kind of hopeful for an Iommi collaboration with Ian Gillan after the Whocares single was released earlier this year, but Ozzy-fronted Sabbath? As much as I hate to say it, I’m skeptical.

That said, any excuse to see Geezer Butler play bass is good enough for me…

Here’s the news, pilfered from the above-mentioned industry trade:

Black Sabbath is reuniting to record its first studio album with original frontman Ozzy Osbourne since 1978, and will support it with a massive 2012 tour, sources have confirmed to Billboard.com.

The group made the announcement during a press conference today (Nov. 11) at the Whiskey A-Go-Go in Los Angeles, where Sabbath played its first show in the city exactly 41 years ago. Black Sabbath will headline Download Festival, which will take place between June 8-10 in Donington Park, England. Meanwhile, Rick Rubin will produce the group’s comeback album, which is expected to be released in fall 2012 through Vertigo/Universal.

Rumors of new Sabbath activity have been swirling for months, with Osbourne recently telling Billboard.com that new material was “a very, very strong possibility. It’s in the very early stages, so we haven’t recorded anything yet.”

Guitarist Tony Iommi, who wrote extensively about the band in his new book Iron Man: My Journey Through Heaven & Hell With Black Sabbath, also told Billboard.com that he regrouped with Osbourne, bassist Geezer Butler and drummer Bill Ward at Osbourne‘s California home earlier this year to play some music, “For a bit of fun, and to see if we could all play. It was good, but it was just purely, ‘Let’s have a go and see what happens.’”

I know Motörhead doesn’t get mentioned much around here. In a way, I feel like it’s not necessary. They’re Motörhead. They do Motörhead stuff. They’re louder than everyone, Lemmy is the king of the badasses, etc. It’s all been said. If Motörhead was going to put out a flamenco album or something, I’d probably talk about it, but otherwise, aren’t they kind of a given?

“(I Won’t) Pay Your Price” might seem like a random pick. It’s not “Stay Clean” or “Ace of Spades,” or whatever, but as I shelled out just over two grand this morning for sundry car repairs, I feel like it’s a pretty decent summation of how I was doing while signing that check, “Fast” Eddie Clarke solo and all. Some things you just feel in your gut.

Despite those auspicious beginnings, as far as an end to a chaotic week, today wasn’t so bad. I wanted terribly to transcribe the Black Cobra interview, and I just didn’t have time to do it. Doubtful that anyone else gives a crap, but I’d said I was going to do it, and it matters to me. I tried. The last three days, I tried. And it just didn’t happen.

What that means is this coming week, I’ll double up and have both that and my interview with Scott Hill from Fu Manchu about their recent reissues and tours playing In Search Of in its entirety. Stay tuned for those, and I’ll also have a track premiere from the new Esoteric record on Tuesday — weird as ever, but ultra-doomed — and reviews of Drone Throne, Samsara Blues Experiment, Electric Moon and Obrero.

Assuming I survive the Octobersnowpocalypse that all weather reports seem to be crapping their pants over in sensationalist panic, we’ll also wrap up the month of October and do the numbers and the rundown of what’s to come, and I can only imagine there’ll be Roadburn news and much more as well.

In the meantime, congratulations to any fans of the St. Louis Cardinals on that whole World Series thing, and I hope wherever you are, you have a great and safe weekend. See you on the forum and back here Monday. Huzzah.

It was two years ago today, Oct. 12, that Blue Cheer‘s Dickie Peterson succumbed to liver cancer. I’m not going to write anything grand about the man’s legacy — it speaks for itself — I just thought the occasion was worth marking.

Their work in the genre of stoner/desert rock and doom is second in influence only to Black Sabbath, and Kyuss‘ four albums — Wretch, Blues for the Red Sun, Welcome to Sky Valley and …And the Circus Leaves Town — have become an essential blueprint for a subsequent generation of rockers. Songs like “Green Machine,” “Thumb” and “Gardenia” ring out like epic poetry: utterly timeless and complete in every way.

Taking youthful cues from Yawning Man, punk rock and other outfits from their home in the Californian desert, the four-piece of vocalist John Garcia, guitarist Josh Homme, bassist Nick Oliveri and drummer Brant Bjork set a spontaneous-sounding course, and the generator parties in the desert wilds have become the stuff of YouTube legend, capturing an unconcerned lack of self-awareness that’s straight out of classic rock. That is, in the true spirit of innovation, they didn’t purport to be changing anything at the time.

Inevitable lineup shifts saw the departure of Oliveri and eventually Bjork, with The Obsessed‘s Scott Reeder coming in on bass for Welcome to Sky Valley in 1994 and drummer Alfredo Hernandez (Yawning Man) replacing Bjork on …And the Circus Leaves Town the next year. Kyuss continued to tour and gain popularity, but ultimately came apart, releasing their last studio offering in the form of a 1997 Man’s Ruin Records split with Homme and Oliveri‘s new outfit, Queens of the Stone Age.

The poorly-titled compilation of rare tracks Muchas Gracias: The Best of Kyuss hit in 2000, and for a full decade, Kyuss‘ legacy was left to fester. Queens of the Stone Age hit big commercially, Brant Bjork amassed a catalog of incredibly underrated solo albums, and Garcia found outlets in the form of Slo Burn (whose EP, Amusing the Amazing, was stellar), the Rick Rubin-produced Unida (whose breakthrough album was unfortunately shelved and never saw official release), and Hermano (currently on hold after three records, including the boldly self-exploratory 2007 effort …Into the Exam Room), but eventually came to recognize family and his career in veterinary diagnostics as his main priorities.

The outfit Garcia Plays Kyuss was announced for the 2010 Roadburn Festival in The Netherlands, and the response was electric. Garcia surrounded himself with hand-selected European rockers — including guitarist Bruno Fevery — and used the fest to launch a well-received European run. Bringing Oliveri and Bjork on stage at that year’s Hellfest in Clisson, France, the vocalist discovered that Kyuss‘ energy had far from dissipated, and the exclamatory Kyuss Lives! was born.

On the eve of their first North American tour, Garcia reveals in the interview that follows that Kyuss Lives! has begun writing material for a new Kyuss album, and his excitement at working with Oliveri and Bjork, along with Fevery, is palpable. He also discusses going back to touring from family life, the expectation of animosity between Kyuss Lives! and Homme — not part of the reunion process — the status of his Garcia vs. Garcia solo project, that Roadburn appearance that kicked off this revival, and much more.

The complete 5,100-word Q&A is after the jump. We spoke over morning coffee on Sept. 8, 2011. Please enjoy.

Read more »

Last night, The Patient Mrs. and I went to see the new documentary God Bless Ozzy Osbourne at its New Jersey “special premiere event.” I had posted the press release on the news forum last week, but the short version is the movie was produced by Jack Osbourne, directed by Mike Fleiss and Mike Piscitelli, and promised “the most honest portrait” of his father (Ozzy, duh) through his years with Black Sabbath and as a mind-blowingly successful solo artist.

Now obviously, to tell the whole story would require a 17-hour Ken Burns special and then some — as Ozzy has simply led that much life — but though God Bless Ozzy Osbourne started out promising by charting his childhood and Black Sabbath‘s formation and first several records, the movie soon took a turn and abandoned that method of storytelling, jumping directly from a scene of current Ozzy watching and being disgusted by the video for “The Ultimate Sin” to the first season of the MTV reality show The Osbournes, which came some 16 years later, and shifting the focus from his sundry triumphs and inebriated antics to his getting clean and, as Sharon Osbourne put it in one of her many dime-store-therapist-lingo interview segments, “growing up.”

That’s fine. I went into God Bless Ozzy Osbourne thinking it was probably going to be a one-sided take on the man’s life, perhaps some effort to restore the dignity that the last decade has stripped him of (The Osbournes playing no small part in that, but by no means being the only misstep), and that’s precisely what it was. The fact is that he’s an entertaining interview — I’ve never been so fortunate myself — and that alone is worth watching. Tony Iommi appeared three or four times, and since the movie-current live footage sprinkled throughout had Zakk Wylde on guitar, I’m guessing it was from 2008-2009, right around the time Iommi and Osbourne were embroiled in that lawsuit over the rights to the name Black Sabbath. I guess they were lucky to get him at all, if that’s the case.

But even so, the “most honest portrait” it wasn’t. Scenes of Ozzy‘s kids from his first and second marriage saying he was a shitty father popped up and were gone with little examination or criticism, flashing back and forth to a current interview thread of Ozzy talking about it, and he still couldn’t remember what year his first daughter was born. In addition, in talking about his relationship with Sharon, they laid out the timing that it began roughly two years before he divorced his first wife, but never mentioned it as an affair, the two of them laughing instead that they were either in bed, on the bus, or on stage at that point in their lives. Har har. And when talking about their marriage, Ozzy says he wanted to start a family and that’s why he married Sharon, completely neglecting to mention his two prior children, who just a few minutes ago, were remembered as begging him not to leave them.

So really, it’s got its issues. Leaving the theater, I couldn’t help but wonder about the footage they left out. They didn’t even interview Zakk Wylde! Robert Trujillo, who played bass with Ozzy‘s band for a while, is never mentioned as having done so, instead showing up as a representative of Metallica — which is laughable — and since you apparently can’t say anything about Black Sabbath these days without Henry Rollins showing up, he was there. Tommy Lee told a few choice stories of touring with Ozzy in 1985, and Rudy Sarzo gave a heartfelt reminisce of the day Randy Rhoads died, but there was a lot they left out, both positive and negative. Here are the five things that most stuck out to me:

1. Master of Reality
After recounting the first two Sabbath albums, they mentioned 1971′s Master of Reality, showed the cover, and then brushed it aside to talk about Vol. 4. Not for nothing, but Master of Reality has been scientifically proven to be the greatest album of all time. They’ve done tests. In labs. Nothing is better. I suppose I shouldn’t complain, because Technical Ecstasy didn’t get mentioned at all. Seriously. Like it didn’t exist. No love for “Rock & Roll Doctor.”

2. Ozzfest
This was a real surprise, especially with the time spent giving the highlights of Ozzy‘s career. The festival of which he was the namesake? Nothing about it ever appeared in the movie.

3. Jake E. Lee
Nope. The guy basically saved Ozzy‘s post-Randy Rhoads career. And nothing.

4. The second, third and fourth seasons of The Osbournes
You’d imagine in watching God Bless Ozzy Osbourne that someone tricked the family into filming their lives for MTV. I think it’s Kelly at one point (might be Jack) who says something about people thinking it was funny, but it was really watching their family fall apart because of her father’s drinking and drug use. Meanwhile, they raked in shitloads of cash on that and kept it going for three years! If it’s that awful, even if you’re contractually obligated, pull out and take the lawsuit. Aimee Osbourne continues to look like a young woman who has her shit together.

5. Any music after 1986.
No No More Tears, no Ozzmosis. In the live footage, Ozzy sings some of “No More Tears,” but no studio album after Bark at the Moon is discussed in detail, and neither is the reunion with Black Sabbath in 1997, the retirement tour, or even the names of the people in the current (as of the movie) band. Mike Bordin is shown playing drums a few times, and Wylde makes regular appearances on stage, but it looks like the camera is actively trying to avoid Rob “Blasko” Nicholson.

I’m glad Ozzy Osbourne is sober. In God Bless Ozzy Osbourne, toward the end of the film, he is shown driving, talking about getting his driver’s license and wanting to have his shit together, feeling like he loves himself for the first time in his life. He speaks clearly and stands up straight and looks nothing like the bumbling man in the garden yelling, “Sharon!” This is all wonderful. I mean it. I also think that part of having that ability to truly be comfortable with who you are means accepting your failures as well as your successes. You could easily say he didn’t make the film, and he didn’t — Sharon is listed as executive producer and Jack is given the aforementioned producer credit — but there’s no question it’s a favorable take rather than a genuine examination of his career and life.

It’s one side of a story to which there are probably 50 other sides, and I’m sure you could make a 90-minute documentary about the first Sabbath album and it would seem too short, but if the project is too much to chew, then what’s accomplished by putting it out there anyway is a few entertaining stories, choice interviews, some live footage (the 1974 California Jam is always welcome), and nothing approaching the raw analysis promised. So it was.

Last night after work, The Patient Mrs. and I hit the road north and west and got up to Buffalo, New York, where we stayed the night. This afternoon, after an unsuccessful attempt to hit a record store there called Spiral Scratch — whose noon opening time was, to be fair, qualified with an “ish” on their website — we made our way into Canada to cut west to our final destination, Detroit, which is where I’m posting from now.

Hell of a ride. I don’t think Canada was any more or less boring than western Pennsylvania or Ohio might have been, but it’s another stamp on my passport, anyway. Every time someone asked where we were headed and we told them, the response was, “Why would you go to Detroit? Nobody goes there.”

Fair enough question, but I like a lot of shit people don’t like, and yeah we saw some bombed-out looking shit on the way here, but whatever. No more than Newark or Paterson back in Jersey. Anyway, it’s a road trip, and I’ll be here through the weekend, so I don’t know how many posts I’m going to get up, so if you’re wondering why there isn’t the usual obsessive amount of output today and tomorrow, that’s why.

I should have known though that the second I wasn’t in front of a computer the site would crash. Big thrill sending “my shit is broken” emails to the hosting company from my phone, believe you me. Really nails down that whole “getting away from it all” thing. At least it’s back up now, though it always seems as soon as I say that, it implodes again. Ugh.

Anyway, hope you enjoy the Blue Cheer video above, taped at the soundcheck of a show I later attended at the old Knitting Factory in Manhattan. That was a good night. In case I don’t get to post again before the weekend, thanks everyone for checking in this week, and next week I’ll have an interview with artist Sean “Skillit” McEleny and a Six Dumb Questions with the recently-reviewed Threefold Law, as well as reviews of The Re-Stoned and hopefully the Clutch show that I’m going to in Flint on Saturday. Good stuff to come, and in the meantime, if you haven’t checked out the forum, it’s like YOB-city in there. Lots of fun.

I know in the past it’s been “here’s so-and-so’s first bio,” but, well, there was this promo for And the Circus Leaves Town, and there was text on the back that I couldn’t read in the eBay listing shot, and so I had to make it mine. Reading it, you can really get the sense of how on the brink of mainstream success Elektra Records believed Kyuss was going into their last album, and in light of the just-announced Kyuss Lives! dates, I thought I’d post this for anyone else who might be interested. Click the image to enlarge it:

I think that Josh Homme quote at the end is my favorite part. You never really know if that’s the artist or the PR person saying that kind of thing in band bios, but it’s a cool and succinct summary of Kyuss‘ sound, with just a hint of arrogance for good measure, so I’d believe it. Also dig that “Thee Ol’ Boozerooney” is spelled wrong (or right) in the tracklisting. Nerdy fun.

I’ve been insanely jealous of Bill Ward‘s Never Say Die-era double-braids ever since watching the above video for that title-track from Black Sabbath‘s 1978 Ozzy Osbourne-period cap-off, and finally, after so many beers on last night, The Patient Mrs. saw fit to grace me with the aforementioned braids, and in case you’re wondering: Yes, it’s all I could ever want from a hairstyle.

In honor, we close out this week with Sabbath doing “Never Say Die” from Top of the Pops in ’78. Someone posted the video on Facebook earlier this week too, I think it might have been Joe Hasselvander. And if it wasn’t, I’ll give him credit for it anyway, since  he deserves it. The song was stuck in my head anyhow since reviewing that Karma to Burn album earlier this week. Here’s that review, in case you didn’t see it before.

I actually started this post last night as “Frydee Black Sabbath” but “fell asleep” before finishing it. A four-hour office happy hour led to a trip to the bar led to the hangover I woke up with not so long ago. Nonetheless, tonight in Manhattan, the mighty (and recently interviewed) ORANGE FUCKING GOBLIN are set to lay waste to an unsuspecting Santos Party House, and you can bet your ass I’ll be there early to catch Kings Destroy opening the show. Righteous times shall be had. If you’re looking for me, I’ll be the dude with the braids.

Next week we’ll wrap up May with the numbers, and I’ll have a sales update on Blackwolfgoat (thanks to everyone who’s bought so far, and if you haven’t, you can here), a brand new interview with T-Roy Medlin from Sourvein, plus reviews of Lights at Sea, Faces of Bayon and several others, not to mention some live notes from the aforementioned Orange Goblin show tonight, to which I’ve been very much looking forward, if you couldn’t tell. It’s also getting on podcast time, and if I don’t do it this weekend, I might try and make it happen sometime this week, so either way, sooner than later.

Hope everyone has a great weekend. If you’re in the States, happy Memorial Day, and please drive safe. See you back here next week.

Ronnie James Dio, July 10, 1942-May 16, 2010

Rockin’ this again today in your honor. Hard to believe a year went so quick, but I guess that’s what years do.

The day kind of got away from me yesterday, so I didn’t get to close out the week proper like I wanted to or normally would on a Friday. It’s the end of the semester and work has been balls-kickingly unpleasant the last couple weeks surrounding the Roadburn trip, but that too should be cleared up by the time May hits, so I’m just counting down the days more or less. Until then, my therapy:

THERE IS A NEW PODCAST COMING THIS WEEKEND.

I’ll have it up tomorrow, and no, it’s not Easter themed. I hope to rip some tracks today, some tomorrow and get it all posted by tomorrow night, but yeah, it should be a good one. Kind of a personal theme, but fun all the same, and what the hell is the point anyway if I’m not enjoying myself. You’ll note I didn’t put a question mark at the end of that sentence, because I realize there’s no question there at all.

But I thought we’d close out this week with some under-appreciated Ian Gillan-fronted Black Sabbath from the Born Again album. I saw a post on the forum about the impending re-release (looks sweet), and it kind of put me onto listening to it again. I know it catches hell because of the mix or whatever, but I think this record rules. Wouldn’t trade either Ozzy or Dio Sabbath for it, but it’s a completely unique item in the band’s catalog and certainly better than any of the Tony Martin-era stuff.

Plus, Deep Purple‘s touring (of course with Gillan singing), so it’s semi-relevant on that level as well. They’re bringing an orchestra out with them for the first time in the US this summer. Should be fun. I always thought “Space Truckin’” needed some extra strings.

Enjoy the rest of your Saturday and tomorrow as well. Next week I’ll have my interview with Graveyard posted and reviews of Bong, El Hijo de la Aurora and that podcast too. Much fun to be had.

I “took yesterday off” to get a bunch of work done before flying out to The Netherlands this evening in order to get to Tilburg tomorrow afternoon for the start of Roadburn. As I haven’t traveled in probably five years without bringing some Dio-inclusive album with me, I thought I’d post up “Falling Off the Edge of the World” to mark the occasion. It’s an appropriate enough song for getting on an airplane, I think.

Obviously, lots to come from Roadburn. Over the next few days, I’ll have pictures, video and writeups from the fest, as well as whatever else I can think of about traveling, so please, stay tuned. I’ve basically broken my ass the last few days to get my ducks aligned, so I’m definitely looking forward to getting away for a couple days to get a reminder of why I love all this stuff so much in the first place: the music.

My luggage (aptly named Big Blue, because it is both quite huge and quite blue) is mostly packed, and I’ve got my passport, so all that remains is to get to Newark Airport after class — which I’m about to go to — and catch the flight. It’s raining in Jersey, so pending any delays or shit like that, I should be good to go. Here’s hoping.

If you’ll be at Roadburn, I hope to see you there. If not, and you see this, I hope you enjoy the posts. In any case, here’s to adventure.