The Sound That Ends Creation
When I was a sprout, I'd watch Sesame Street for hours on end and have nightmares that Snuffy was sucking me up through his schlong-like snout as a healthy snack. Then Cookie Monster would come and saw it off with a chainsaw so I could get out. Who knew that years later, my hero would join a Satanic cult and make appearances on mediocre Metal-goth albums everywhere, including SOCIETY1’s
The Sound That Ends Creation, starring on tracks "It Isn’t Me," "Bleed," and "6 Months." I guess when you have band members named Dirt and Sin, you can’t sing about pansy shit like cookies anymore.
8 minutes into the album and I wanna slit my stalks open with a box-cutter to the predictable, one-dimensional barking chant of "6 months to suicide". Why so long? What the hell’s the use of spending my life in a produce section being picked up and put down by dirty, wrinkled geriatric fingers that stink of piss and moth balls— and in between, having to listen to shit like this.
Then something funny and unexpected happened— Bert started banging Ernie in the ass in the bathtub, tickling his ball sac with the rubber ducky, and I came across three solid tracks that struck a chord in my wilting green soul: "No Father," "Touch A Girl," and "Realm Of Bliss."
The sound of the album completely changes, as if singer Matt "The Lord" Zane (director of those Backstage Sluts porn flicks) has some kind of revelation, like that harmonies and interesting bridges can work in industrial and hard-edged rock songs. Born a vegetable, I hate fuckin’ religion and don’t believe in God, and if there is one, he can choke on my vitamin-A packed dick. So when I heard the chorus, "Jesus is no father to me," I got into the music even more. Then came "I want to touch a girl / I want to fuck the world" on the track "Touch A Girl". A-fucking-men!
I was also shocked by the gentle, folksy guitar behind "Realms Of Bliss," something Henson’s puppets might dance to on Elmo’s World— that is, until Zane gets to the "I want you to die" part. Hopefully, that high-voiced, chicken-dancing annoyance will wither away from AIDS in front of millions of children. Either that or I’ll lodge a mouthy clove of garlic in the puppeteer’s throat. Fuckin’ garlic. Used in so much stuff, they think they don’t smell as bad as my green ear jam.
"Lord" and "Bleed" go back to that monster truck announcer shit from earlier, so skip to the slow SISTERS OF MERCY-like vocals of "I Love Her," the great guitar interlude of "Enraptured," and the eerie instrumentals in "Wounded Veins."
I thought I had a huge ego for a vegetable until I watched the "Creation of Sound" bonus DVD. If you want to see predator-hair Zane’s messiah complex dribbling like diarrhea from his home movies, check it out. Me, I gotta take a call from Disney about a development deal for a Brock Coli Saturday morning cartoon character. I’m finally goin’ head-to-head with that yellow tranny, Big Bird.
