Archive for November, 2009

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19
Nov
09

Death By Ayoba!

By SlickTiger 48 Comments
Categories: Killer Posts and Satire, Irony And Vitriol
Tags: , ,

What I dig about South Africa is that every year when summer rolls around, the cell phone network providers all ramp up their advertising and bombard us from all sides with ‘Summer this’ and ‘Summer that’ and shots of mixed racial groups partying on beaches, having the time of their lives.

And all the while, I look at these ad campaigns and think to myself, How come I don’t hang out in mixed racial groups? Why do I only have whites for friends pretty much with the exception of some Indians and one or two peripheral blacks? What the hell is wrong with me? Christ, I’m a racist bastard!

 

 

Then to make matters worse, they choose some random word in a black language I don’t understand and shove it in my face every opportunity they get.

This year it’s ‘Ayoba’ (thanks MTN), I’ve probably read that word about 50 times in the last week alone and there’s still essentially two months of summer holiday advertising to go.

By the end of it all, the word will probably be burned into my retina. I’ll wake up, pouring sweat in the middle of the night, wide-eyed, screaming ‘AYOBA! AYOBA! AAAYYYOOOOOBBBBBAAAAA!’

 

 

I think what gets to me is the fact that they attach all this meaning to a word that they know non-black people won’t understand. Why do they do that? It doesn’t seem like the smartest way to encourage racial unity in SA.

‘Hey guys!’

‘What!’

‘I’ve got a GREAT idea for our new campaign!’

‘YOU’RE INCREDIBLE! Cutmeanotherlineofcocaineandtellusallaboutit!’

‘OK! Check it out! There are WAAAAAAAYYYYY more blacks than whites in this country right?’

‘YA!’

‘Cool! Let’s make an advertising campaign that ONLY black people will understand!’

SCHNARF!

‘THAT’S AMAZING!’

‘Yeah, we’ll create a sense of unity amongst the black community while ostracising the whites and making them feel completely unhip, uncool and sidelined!’

‘FUCK YEAH! BRILLIANT IDEA! STUPID WHITES, SERVES THEM RIGHT! MAKE THEM FEEL MORE GUILTY FOR BEING WHITE, THOSE APARTHEID-ENFORCING BIGOTTED FUCKERS!’

‘HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!’

‘…umm guys…’

‘WHAT?!?’

‘We’re white…’

‘Whatever! Shuttup! MORE COCAINE!’

 

 

To make things worse, you’ll probably find that the meaning of Ayoba is something completely arbitrary.

After I typed that last sentence I did a little Ugoogle-ising and found the following gem posted on the Jacaranda FM website:

“Ayoba – the word for 2010.

The word for excitement, cool,

fun… pride… joy… football… winning!!!”

Fuck, no wonder they chose that word for their campaign, it means EVERYTHING. Wait, it gets better:

“MTN is celebrating summer by adding ‘Ayoba-ness’ to everything it does”

Well that’s just fucking great. Expect to have this word screamed at you from billboards, TVs, newspapers, radios and magazines at FULL volume.

Ayoba! Ayoba! Ayoba!

And all over the country, whites, indians, coloureds, hell even the Chinese, will be scratching their heads in unison, all thinking exactly the same thing, ‘What the fuck does that mean?’

And as is the case with pretty much everything that gets regurgitated into mainstream media these days, the answer is simple.

It means nothing.

The more people that don’t know the meaning of it the better because it means nothing, it’s just a worm dangling off the hook of the happy holiday summer consumer spendasmuchmoneyasyoucan idea that they want you to swallow.

I’ve got a better idea. Here’s my fist. Let’s see you swallow that.

-ST

18
Nov
09

Album Review: Them Crooked Vultures

By SlickTiger Leave a Comment
Categories: Album Reviews
Tags: ,

If any of you have been following the comments on Moral Fibre about this album, you’ll know before I even launch into this that we’re entering some pretty contentious territory here.

To put it in a sentence, I read a review of this album on Moral Fibre that I didn’t feel was very well researched and wrote a scathing comment to that effect, thus starting a mild shit storm of comments by other readers half of whom sided with me and half of whom didn’t.

I was asked to write a follow-up review so I could have a chance to offer my opinions on this album as well, but probably more to stir a little more shit than anything else. Controversy sells right?

So enough foreplay. I urge you before we even begin to take a fistful of stones in hand and if, by the end of this review you think what I’ve written is garbage, let ‘er rip.

Them Crooked Vultures is a supergroup that was formed earlier this year by Josh Homme (Queens Of The Stone Age), Dave Grohl (Foo Fighters) and John Paul Jones (Led Zepplin). I heard the rumours of this band near the end of July, looked it up on the interwebs and couldn’t really believe what I was reading.

 

 

Sure, Homme and Grohl jamming together, that’s nothing too crazy. Grohl famously joined Queens Of The Stone Age on drums for their most commercially successful album to date, Songs For The Deaf (2002).

But John Paul Jones? The first thing I remember thinking was ‘Is he still alive?’ I did a little research and was surprised to find that since Led Zepplin disbanded in 1980, Jones has worked with everyone from R.E.M and Peter Gabriel to The Butthole Surfers and (aha!) Foo Fighters (on their 2005 album In Your Honour, which Homme also worked on).

Suddenly the bigger picture started to become clear. This is not your typical supergroup, this is not a bunch of stinking rich and nauseatingly famous rockstars who have fallen into studio for three months, half-heartedly banged out an album and cashed it in with nothing but the strength of their reputations to actually make it sell.

This is something else, something premeditated…

And so last weekend I got my hands on the album, kicked back and hit play. I have since listened to it no less than 11 times from start to finish and I shit you not, it’s still catching me off guard with riffs and lyrics that I swear were never there the first time I played them.

 

 

This is not fluffy, catchy limp-dick rock. This is dark, edgy, dirty progressive stoner/desert rock packed with more hooks than a box of fishing tackle.

The album opens with ‘Nobody loves me and neither do I’ which staggers and sways with the confidence of a lecherous drunk in a strip club, while Homme’s customary falsetto meowls and moans like a stray street cat.

Then the next thing you know, exactly halfway through the song the band breaks into an interlude with Homme singing, ‘Cuttin her loose, I’m ready to go / People in the world, you’re gonna lose control’ and the song immediately starts picking up momentum only to dump it moments later into a riff that’s so heavy it drives like an oil tanker and sounds like an air raid siren.

It’s a classic Zepplin moment that builds to a perfectly executed climax thanks to Grohl finally sitting up on his kit and doing what he does best, pounding the living shit out of it.

 

 

It’s not like anything you’ve ever heard before, it’s executed with military precision and if nothing else, should immediately grab your attention.

Track 2, ‘Mind Eraser, No Chaser’ segues flawlessly from a disjointed, syncopated verse into a catchy, driving chorous that is infectious as all hell for the simple reason that you can hear the band is rocking out and loving every second of it.

‘Gimme the reason why the mind’s a terrible thing to waste’ sings Homme, ‘Understanding is cruel the monkey said as it launched to space / Know that I’m gonna be your dangerous side effect / Ignorance is bliss until they take your bliss away.’

The first single off the album ‘New Fang’ opens with Grohl’s drumming, though there’s no way you’d guess it was him. The beat is subtle, loose, lots of cymbals, but tightens up the instant Homme and Jones jump in there.

And this is the first thing that struck me about this band. The rhythm section that is Grohl and Jones is tighter than a nun’s arsehole. They swing together effortlessly, providing a fat, solid platform for Homme to work off, and Homme fucking laps it up.

‘Dead End Friends’ swings like a party of polygamous nymphomaniacs and is a welcome change from the slightly claustrophobic opening tracks. It’s almost instantly accessible and very quickly became one of my favourite tracks on the album.

 

 

The lyrics are poetry, ‘I follow the road blind / Until the road is done out / Nights in my veins its calling me / Racing along these arteries / And love, is just a myth / To herd us over the cliff.’ Nice and dark, just the way I like it.

The fifth track, ‘Elephant’ changes tempo no less than five times during the song and feels like Homme’s attempt at packing as many different riffs as possible into one song. It will irritate you the first time you hear it. It irritated me because Homme’s vocal melody and tone is identical to a song he recorded with U.N.K.L.E called ‘Restless’ (off the 2007 album War Stories).

And that’s a mistake Homme makes more than once on this album. ‘Interlude With Ludes’ the most spaced out, drug addled song on the album (‘ludes’ are the American equivalent of mandrax) has a vocal melody almost identical to the QOTSA track ‘I’m Designer’ off Era Vulgaris (2007).

The chorous line Homme sings in ‘Nobody Loves Me And Neither Do I’ sounds like the track ‘Like a Drug’ off the QOTSA album Lullabyes to Paralyse (2005).

‘Caligulove’ sounds identical to any number of Eagles Of Death Metal vocal melodies (try ‘So Easy’ and ‘English Girl’ for starters) which, at first, ruined an otherwise great song for me.

However, is that really something to hold against the man they call ‘The Ginger Elvis’? Homme has contributed in some way to no less than nineteen albums (6 Kyuss albums, 5 QOTSA albums, 3 Eagles Of Death Metal albums and 5 double volume Desert Sessions albums) so he recycled some vocal melodies – big fucking deal.

Chad Kruger has been singing ‘This Is How You Remind Me’ for five albums (I really should stop using Nickleback as my fall-band, but it’s just so easy).

 

 

I will say this though, even after listening to the entire album the first time, it was obvious that what I was hearing, in essence, was unmistakeably Queens Of The Stone Age.

J-Ho (as he is also known) has changed the line-up of QOTSA so extensively over the past decade that he is the only original member left, so it’s no wonder he finds it difficult to shake the QOTSA sound – he is the QOTSA sound!

And yes, it’s a sound that most people don’t like. Personally I love it because no one else plays like Homme and he has an ability to find the craziest riffs and bludgeon you with them like a club-wielding Neanderthal one minute, then play them slick and easy the next.

He is also a master of tone. Most bands find three or four different guitar tones per album and stick with them (Nirvana, for example, basically had two – clean and distorted). Homme on the other hand manages to find a unique tone for almost every track on the album, whether it be dirty, rusty and infectious (ie. ‘Reptiles’ and the phenomenal twelfth track ‘Gunman’) or eclectic, clean and calm (ie. Bandoliers, another track that has grown on me over time).

Another criticism is that in some cases the tracks run too long. ‘Warsaw or The First Breath You Take After You Give Up’ is nearly 8 mins long (and is also the weakest track on the album) and the average track length on the album is 5 minutes.

The plus side to this is that, as I mentioned before, you can play the album multiple times and still find new aspects to it, but the negative is that if you have a short attention span or get bored easily, the album will lose you completely.

 

 

All in all, I think Them Crooked Vultures is a great album. Give it the time it demands to really sink in and I think you’ll be pleased you did. When I listen to the album, I hear a group of musicians who are rocking out together for the sheer joy of rocking out together, it’s refreshing.

They don’t give a shit how many albums sell, why would they? They also don’t give a shit who they impress or don’t impress, I think all of them have moved far beyond that point in their careers, and I like that.

But I will say this – don’t buy this album on the strength of Grohl’s contribution, because sadly his talents as a drummer are vastly under-utilised on this album and also, don’t buy this album if you can’t stand Queens Of The Stone Age, you won’t like it.

However, if like me, you find most of the mainstream rock music that is being produced nowadays uninspired, bland and as palatable as dry toast, try this album out. I’m not saying it will change your life, but I honestly think if you have a mind twisted enough, this album will grow on you with every listen and stick like a barnacle to the hull of your rusted soul.

That about does it. Let the stones fly 😉

Overall Verdict: 9/10

17
Nov
09

Same Shit

By SlickTiger 4 Comments
Categories: Uncategorized

Days like today you just really, really badly want to give up. Just phone in sick, go the hell back to sleep, curl up warm and snug, close your eyes to the world, shut your senses down and drop like a stone back into sleep.

 

 

I got one post behind on the weekend. Making a bad habit, skipping days here and there. On Sunday I picked J-Rab up from the airport after straightening out the flat and told her, ‘Babe, today is about two things.’

‘Is one of them shaving your beard?’ she asked, the cheeky little vixen.

‘No,’ I replied.

‘It looks cool. Scratchy, but cool.’

‘Ok. Today’s about cuddling and sleeping. Those are the only two things on the agenda. Are we cool on that?’

‘Yay!’

For the longest time in my life, I was made to feel guilty because I really, really like sleeping. As a teenager I slept so much it was ridiculous. I also grew about two feet in as many years, so I guess it makes sense that sleeping would be high on my list of priorities.

 

 

One of the things I really love about J-Rab is that she appreciates a really good snooze from time to time and so we get on just fine. Some weekends we will literally not get out of bed until 2 in the afternoon. Of course, on days like that it’s not all sleeping, but probably the less said about that crazy, animal side of us the better.

And so we spent Sunday chilling to the max. We watched two movies, The Visitor, which is a very skilfully crafted movie about America’s questionable policy about immigrants and My Super Ex-Girlfriend, which is a load of cow dung.

I didn’t blog. I thought ‘fuck it’ and relaxed instead.

 

 

Roll on Monday and I’m back at my desk, post-Whisky Live, doing my best to actually get some work done.

I managed to squeeze out a couple hours graft, but by and large I was enjoying not having my balls busted continuously about Whisky Live this or Whisky Live that.

Last night Peggles came over to get some movies and gave me Anti-Christ (Lars Von Trier’s latest). We watched the opening scene, very hectic stuff, there’s actually a shot of a cock sliding in slow-motion into a pussy.

I was like ‘Hey! You’re not allowed to do that in movies are you?’

I guess you are.

Rad!

-ST

16
Nov
09

Whisky in the Jar-o: Part 4

By SlickTiger Leave a Comment
Categories: Events and Good Times

By round four we were all of us looking a little shaky on our feet. Lucky for me, this time around I wasn’t going there to work, but rather sample some of the fine whiskies on offer, indulge in the food and not make too much of a nuisance of myself.

But my day didn’t start then, it started about five minutes after my last blog post, when I cracked the first beer of the day open and Jenni-fuh and her buddy (we’ll call her Tard) joined me.

Shortly after, we went to Peggles’ parents place cause it was his oldest brother’s 32nd birthday party. I don’t have a suitable nickname handy for him, so seeing as he fought in one, I’ll call him ‘War’.

 

 

War’s party was awesome. That place, the house is like a touchstone for us all, we’ve partied there so many times that we’ve got it down to an art and Peggles’ dad, Big Red, is possibly the most generous host you will ever find.

He has this deep, commanding voice, the kind that when you hear it you can’t help but listen just because the sound of it is so cool.

We had a good time, all of us, at War’s party. His group of friends are moving into the baby-making phase of life and so there were two tiny human’s at the party, both boys, one was about 3 months old and the other was 18 months.

Those small creatures, they’re pure and clean, they got nothing on their conscious, they’ve done nothing bad, they’ve broken no hearts or laws.

They are in every way imaginable different to me, that’s why I like kids. They remind me of when I was like that, before the myriad of accidents occurred that have left me the way I am.

I’ve always loved the idea of The Catcher In The Rye. I can understand fully why someone would want to be that person, anyone out there who grew up too fast would agree. Problem with growing up too fast is you don’t do it properly and spend a large portion of the rest of your life chasing the childhood you missed out on.

 

 

After War’s thing, I headed back home with Jenni-fuh and Tard. Just before we left, Tard asked me if it was okay if we listened to something other than ‘Hootie and the Blowfish’ on the way back home.

‘Is that the closest band you can think of that sounds like Arctic Monkeys?’ I fired back at her.

‘Oh, I like Arctic Monkeys,’ she replied.

‘But you think they sound like Hootie and the Blowfish? Do you listen to music much?’

And that’s howcome I decided to dub her ‘Tard’ on my blog.

 

 

I showered and changed for Whisky Fest and headed through there for 6 on the nut. It was cool to be able to finally taste the whisky on offer and I did so with gusto.

Afterward, Stikey, Jacey-got-the-aceys and I went to a club called Latinova which, to be honest, was a bit lame and over crowded.

By 12pm / 1pm we called it a night and headed back home.

I collapsed in bed, alone. Across the country my gorgeous girlfriend lay sleeping in a tiny house on the side of a mountain, a hot waterbottle clutched to her chest instead of me.

Something happened earlier that day that is going to change both our lives in quite a drastic way…

And all I can say is it’s about fucking time.

-ST

15
Nov
09

Whisky in the jar-o: Part 3

By SlickTiger Leave a Comment
Categories: Events and Good Times

I stepped into round three last night like a prize fighter.

 

 

I had that deep down achy feeling in my body like I’d been kicked around and socked a few times, but not too badly, just gently, love taps.

There was only one film crew last night and they were friendly and knew what they were doing. In and out, aim the lens right, catch the light as it moves, the shapes in it as easily recognisable as possible, this is not art, it’s news.

By now we’re all old hands at this and to be honest, boredom has set in. If you bring together similar variables, you get similar results. There are of course always anomalies, just to mix it up a little, just to keep things interesting.

Shoes were killing people, backs at the end of the night were sore, and somewhere, always, the scent of whisky in the air.

Best part of it is that I now have a certificate that says I’m a master blender. Richard Patterson himself bestowed the honour on me, he’s the youngest man to ever be made a master distiller. He’s well into his 50s now, but he was 26 when they Master Distiller-ised him.

Anyway, I grabbed a hold of him for an interview and he asked me to join him onstage to blend whiskies for his show. Easy right? Stand there, blend the whiskies in front of you according to his instructions, exit stage left.

Then he asks me to find two OTHER people to join us onstage, a beautiful girl and another guy. We were going on in 15 minutes.

I felt like such a weird, creepy dude approaching random people and trying to drag them onstage for the show. I spoke with 6 girls, they all shot me down, it was a massacre.

 

 

Eventually, thank fuck, I ran into Deep Fried Man and his girlfriend, and cajoled them into help us. Deep is a buddy of mine because are paths seem to cross constantly, and always at times when I need his help in some way.

The only problem was that the closer it got to show-time, the more fidgety Deep got, he was supposed to be writing a story after all for an Esteemed Newspaper Magazine. I knew a guy would be a lot easier to find. I needed a big one, one bigger than me (yes, it’s possible) and approached a 6ft4 chunk of granite I found on the other side of the hall.

 

 

In the worst imaginable way I explained I needed his help to do a show. He stared at me completely expressionless as I spoke and when I’d finished said,

‘What?’

‘I need your help onstage, you’re a big guy, come and blend some whiskies, it’s with a master distiller from Scotland, it’ll be fun.’

The look he gave me after that told me instantly that this wasn’t a ‘fun’ guy AT ALL.

‘No,’ he said, ‘I can’t help you.’

‘Why’s that?’ I asked, though I knew this was fucked, ‘are you shy?’

His head snapped ever so slightly as I said that and his eyes stared like flame throwers at me.

‘I speak in front of people all day,’ he said in a threatening non-threatening way, ‘I don’t want to do it now.’

‘Great, well go and fuck your mother’s arsehole,’ I said and walked away.

The second guy was a lot easier to convince, though he still looked a bit like a cornered animal in a certain light.

‘The light shapes bent and twisted. The light looked different in every place and fell differently on everyone everywhere….’ – Lazarus Journal, p36.

Richard rushed the show though, he was nervous, there weren’t nearly enough people there watching, the festival had only opened an hour before. It was like watching an inferior carbon copy of the opening night’s performance.

 

 

We did our part and mixed the whiskies in front of us on stage to produce three specific blends, the first was a Nicole Kidman, the second was an Arnold Schwarzenegger and the third was supposedly a combination of the two, a Leonardo Di Caprio.

In other words, the first was smooth and sweet, the second was very bold, lots of character, lots of structure and the third one had elements of both.

Patterson chatted away while we blended and when we were done tasted them one by one, starting with the Kidman (‘close, close, getting there’), then the Schwarzenegger (‘ok, some character’) and lastly the Di Caprio (‘good’).

He repeated the tasting, this time judging the Kidman as close, but not quite there, the Schwarzenegger as completely off and the Di Caprio as the closest.

I was a sultan among men. Three people clapped.

So Now I’m a certified Master Distiller. I was invoked and everything, even given a certificate and the sacred Master Distiller Headdress.

 

 

And now Saturday lands and I need to wrap this up because Peggles is coming around.

I love you all.

Buy Them Crooked Vultures, it’s radass.

-ST

13
Nov
09

Whisky In The Jar-o: Part 2

By SlickTiger Leave a Comment
Categories: Events, Good Times and Tiger Guides
Tags: , ,

How to make the best out of the FNB Whisky Live Festival ‘09 – a layperson’s guide

So having spent the last two nights at the FNB Whisky Live, running around ‘like a blue arsed chicken’ (as my boss The Irishman would say) with film crews and photographers, I’ve picked up a good couple of tips for people who want to get the most out of their festival experience, so if you’re heading through there, or know people who are, read on! Could change your life… 😉

 

TIP #1 Be cool Daddy-o

I know it goes without saying, but for the less intellectually inept out there, I’ll put this as simply as possible: it’s not beer and it’s not wine, it’s whisky. Sip it slowly.

The festival is big on responsible drinking, so I really can’t stress this point enough, when you taste the different whiskies on offer at the festival, unless you’re a veteran whisky drinker, don’t try and be a hero and slam it down neat to impress the gorgeous booth ladies. They’ve seen it a million times and all you’re likely to elicit is a stifled yawn.

 

 

Add a dash of water to the whiskies you’re tasting. Not only will this prevent you from getting drunker quicker, but it will also open up the flavour of the whisky you’re tasting, thus making it far more accessible whilst ensuring that your palette doesn’t become anaesthetised by the high alcohol content of the whisky.

It’s difficult to really appreciate a complex 18 year old whisky when you can’t really taste anything. If you’re a novice taster, after 4 neat whiskies you might as well be drinking brandy – you wouldn’t be able to taste a difference.

Whisky is about sophistication and class, so be sophisticated and classy, if it’s a drunken of lecherous debauchery you’re looking for, rather drink a bottle of Johnny Blue at Teasers with your pals.

 

TIP #2 Get the lay of the land

More often than not, I’ve watched crowds of visitors at the festival wandering around aimlessly, tasting random whiskies until their tickets run out and then leaving, feeling like they’ve missed out in some way.

They have.

Before you taste any of the whiskies or participate in any of the activities on offer, get the lay of the land. It’s better to arrive at the festival as close to 6pm as possible so you can beat the crowds and get a good idea of what’s where.

Once you have an idea of where everything is, jump in with both feet. The idea behind the festival is to have fun, learn about whisky and interact with the industries top gurus from all over the world.

 

 

If nothing else, by the time you leave the festival you should at least be able to hold your own the next time you’re at a swanky cocktail party and Mr Slick Willy with his snooty attitude starts trying to wax lyrical about what he thinks he knows about whisky.

Take him down. The festival will give you the knowledge to do so.

 

TIP #3 Become acquainted with your palette

You’d be surprised how little you know about your palette when it comes down to it. People who don’t know whisky will say one of two things when you broach the topic of whisky – they’ll either be honest and admit that they don’t like it, or they’ll try and pretend that they do to seem cool and sophisticated, but when you ask them a simple question like which flavours they enjoy in a whisky they’ll feed you a load of utter tripe.

 

 

The simple cure in both situations here is education. To the people who say, flat out, that they don’t like whisky, I’ll say this: the range of different flavours that can be found in whisky is so broad and varied that you can bet your bottom dollar there is a whisky out there for you that will suit your palette, and thus your individual flavour profile so perfectly, you’ll swear it was the best drink you ever tasted.

I have experienced this personally. A year ago I was a Bells Man – I drank it on the rocks because it looked cool and I found the flavour tolerable. If you had asked me the difference between a blend and a single malt back then I would have admitted complete ignorance.

With a little education, what I realised was that I didn’t even like Bells. In fact, for my palette, which is still young, I much prefer a clean, sweet single malt – the fewer citrusy and spicey notes, the better.

For this reason I far prefer Irish whiskeys to Scottish whiskies, they’re smoother, easier on the palette and have less character, so you won’t recoil like you’ve just been shot after you take a sip.

But the golden rule is that everyone’s palette, like your fingerprints, are different. For this reason, do yourself a favour and taste an Irish whiskey, a Scottish whisky, a bourbon and a liqueur.

 

 

This simple exercise will help you a lot when it comes to discerning what flavours you enjoy and will make future tasting experiences a lot more rewarding.

 

TIP #4 Learn to make whisky cocktails

New to this year’s festival is the Schweppes Art of Whisky Cocktail Making Zone, which is being hosted by Kevin, master mixologist from Liquid Chefs who is not only the raddest guy I’ve met so far at the festival, but is also pretty easy on the eyes for the ladies, so guys, make sure you book early cause his cocktail making sessions fill up fast!

 

 

The sessions are free and run at 6:30, 7:45 and 9:00.

Once Kevin’s done with you, you’ll be the envy of all your friends as you mix up killer whisky cocktails that will ensure that for the rest of your life you’ll be the life of EVERY party, ALL the time.

You can thank me later.

 

TIP #5 The sensory zone is a must

At first I thought this sounded a little gimmicky, the idea here is to engage all your senses in a whisky tasting experience in order to help you learn about whisky in general. Sounds like a load of hippy let’s-hold-hand-and-sing-kumbaya bullshit, but it’s actually possibly the best way to learn about whisky at the festival.

Divided into a number of plain white rooms, each with a bar inside serving a different whisky, The Sensory Zone is at the far end of the hall and is well worth visiting.

Each room has a wall on one side, some are velvety to the touch, some are smooth and some are rough. On the opposite wall is a giant image, in one room it’s honey, in another it’s dark chocolate and so on. Near the bar, smelling salts exude different aromas in each room and a different style of music plays in each room.

 

 

All of these elements come together as you taste the whisky in order to illustrate the character of the whisky you’re tasting by engaging all your senses.

It leaves a lasting impression and is a great way to learn about the ‘water of life’

 

TIP #6 EAT

This is when you put food in your mouth, chew 32 times and swallow. Do this at some stage during the night because, like I said, after four or five whiskies, you’re gonna need it.

Word Of Mouth do all the catering for the festival, and in one simple word, their food is delicious – tuck in there!

 

TIP #7 Check out the Macallan Maturation Zone

This is probably something for the more mature patrons of the festival to check out, but could prove interesting to anyone wanting to know the secrets of how whisky get’s it’s flavour and colour.

The workshops are free and there are two per night. The whisky expert who takes the workshops explains the crucial influence that wood has on whisky, which can go a long way to helping you find your perfect whisky.

 

 

For example, I tend to find whiskies that are matured in sherry casks too spicey for my palette, I know this because I have a rudimentary knowledge of the effect wood has on whisky.

And people love me for it.

 

TIP #8 I love chocolate, you love chocolate, eat the chocolate!

Von Geusau Chocolates have a stand at the festival where they pair whisky with chocolate and I can vouch from personal experience that the combination of the two, when done right, it like nothing you’ve ever tasted before.

You take a bite of chocolate, a sip of whisky, swill it around a little and swallow and I shit you not, you’re still tasting different flavours in your mouth nearly a full minute later.

 

 

It’s a must. Guys – learn the whiskies and the chocolates and the next time you throw a party, invite the ladies to have a taste.

Use it / don’t use it 😉

 

TIP #9 If you like one of the whiskies you taste, buy it

Picardi Rebel have a stall at the festival where they’re selling whiskies at discounted prices, it’s the perfect place to pick up a Christmas prezzy or two, then head over to the Classic Malts stand and get it engraved with a personal message – it’s free and adds a really nice personal touch.

 

 

TIP #10 If you’ve had too much, stay the hell off the roads

There are roadblocks tonight by Cornerhouse Pub, on William Nicol, by the Baron on Main, and on Witkoppen all the way up to Sunninghill.

Don’t drive drunk, both Corporate Cabs and Roadtrip are at the festival for a reason. USE THEM! Spending two days in jail, or worse, is no way to spend a weekend.

 

 

Lastly, please come on Saturday, come on Saturday, come on Saturday, comeonsaturdaycomeonsaturdaycomeonsaturdaycomeonsaturdaycomeonsaturdaycomeonsaturday!

Friday is gonna be packed to the rafters and so Saturday has been added this year and will be a much better night to go through to get the most out of the festival.

So there you have it, any questions, come see me after class, otherwise I’ll see you at the festival 🙂

-ST

12
Nov
09

Whisky In The Jar-o – Part 1

By SlickTiger Leave a Comment
Categories: Events and Good Times
Tags: , ,

The thing about people is that they’ll buy into whatever bullshit you’re selling you if you look and act the part. In fact, you don’t even really have to act the part too much, just look it and you’re 80% of the way there.

Last night was the opening night of the FNB Whisky Live Festival, the biggest consumer whisky festival in the world and there I was missioning around with the photographer we hired to cover the event, looking all important with my executive leather Mastercard branded flip file and two-way radio complete with an ear piece that made me look like some kind of high-level bodyguard.

 

 

The festival was intense and to be honest, I feel like a bus hit me right in the spine. I’m tired, J-Rab had to pry me out of bed with a crowbar this morning, goddamn what I wouldn’t do for another few hours sleep…

And for that reason I don’t really feel like writing anything today. Even these paltry few words have so far taken me an hour to write. I’m going to drink Bioplus, that shit is AMAZING. Yesterday I nailed one of the effervescent tablets and in 10 minutes was feeling like a million bucks, so I nailed another one to try and push it to two million.

Then, suddenly, the universe was an incredible place. Raw energy and electricity was sparking off everything, a rush of happiness washed over me and I started jiggling uncontrollably in my seat.

THIS IS INCREDIBLE! I thought to myself. I MUST TELL EVERYONE ABOUT HOW AMAZING EVERYTHING IS!

 

 

So I tore into Twitter like a piece of loose shrapnel, writing ‘Phwoar! Fuck me running, BioPlus is AWESOME! I’ve only had two tablets AND I FEEL LIKE A MILLION BUCKS!’

Then I froze. I hadn’t Tweeted that as SlickTiger, I’d tweeted it as FNB Whisky Live Festival to 500 odd followers in the whisky-drinking community.

Fucking awesome work right there. DELETE DELETE DELETE DELETE DELETE!

Yeah, so I’m gonna nail another one right now. Don’t be surprised if my next post is written in size 500 font and all it says is BJUYB%*&^(*NGUJHGVFJV%^*&&HKHK<()O!

Later party people, I might get some nice pics from last night to post here, watch this space.

-ST

11
Nov
09

Album review: Alice in Chains – ‘Black Gives Way To Blue’

By SlickTiger Leave a Comment
Categories: Album Reviews
Tags: ,

Alice In Chains are the most under-rated grunge band to have ever played and that is a fact.

 

 

There were a lot of grunge bands playing back in the 90s that cottoned on to what bands like Nirvana were doing and jumped right in there (yes Bush and Silverchair, I’m looking at you) and hence were labelled as ‘grunge’.

But I’ll tell you right now, that wasn’t grunge. Even what Nirvana’s music, though it had heavy, dirty grunge undertones, was infused with a generous helping of punk.

Alice In Chains were 100% grunge, pure as the driven sludge. They were hard, heavy and dark, but also capable of writing exceptional acoustic ballads and more up-tempo songs like ‘No Excuses’ and ‘Over Now’ that rocked without sounding cheesy and lame.

I can understand fully why they weren’t everyone’s weapon of choice, and I’m glad of that because it makes the relationship I have with their music all the more personal,  but that doesn’t change the fact that they were an extremely talented band and I believe anyone with a critical musical ear would agree.

Alice In Chains was formed in the late 80s by vocalist Layne Staley and lead guitarist Jerry Cantrell. Sean Kinney joined the band shortly thereafter on drums, but it wasn’t until bassist Mike Inez (who played with Ozzy Osbourne until early 90s) joined that Alice In Chains truly came into being.

What was so unique about this band was the unholy unity of Staley and Cantrell. Most people familiar with the band don’t realise it, but Staley and Cantrell sang a lot of AiC’s songs together, their vocals harmonising with one another so perfectly that you would be forgiven for thinking their two voices were one.

In total the band released three studio albums and three EPs but sadly became inactive after 1995 due to Staley’s excessive drug use and inability to commit to touring or even recording with the band. By the late 90’s Alice In Chains were all but forgotten, a fact that was cemented by Staley’s death due to an overdose of heroine and cocaine in 2002.

 

 

By the time the drugs he was using finally killed him not even his family and close friends were in contact with him anymore. He lay dead in his apartment for two weeks before anyone came looking for him and I’ve included this for the simple fact that a lot of rock stars like to pretend they are tortured souls, but Layne was the real deal and the music he made with AiC was a testament to that fact.

And so, as you can imagine, I was excited as a kid at Christmas when that I learned earlier this year that the band had reformed. Even more exciting was the news that the line-up was identical except for vocalist William DuVall who joined the band officially in 2007 and sings on the new album Black Gives Way To Blue, the first AiC studio album to be recorded in nearly 15 years.

I’ll be honest, the first thought that struck me was that this album would be an epic fail. Layne was the core of the band, anything without him would be a sad and sorry reflection of what this band used to be capable of, right?

 

 

Well, about 5 seconds into their first single off Black Gives Way To Blue, ‘Check My Brain’, my fears were put to rest, and 30 seconds after that, when DuVall and Cantrell step in to croon out the opening lines in perfect unison I recoiled from my laptop so violently that I pulled the ear plugs out the headphone jack.

It’s uncanny. It’s like seeing someone who died 14 years ago buying milk at the local 7/11. It’s fucking Alice In Chains man! It’s fucking Alice In Chains!

I got my hands on the full album a month later and immediately started putting it under intense scrutiny.

 

 

‘All Secrets Known’ the opening track starts slow and lumbering, like some massive, long dead thing rising again and it’s almost instantly recognisable that while this band hasn’t changed, it sure as hell hasn’t stayed the same.

Track 2 is ‘Check My Brain’ and starts with a monster, string-bending riff that Alice in Chains and only Alice In Chains could ever get right. The chorous sneaks up on you, but hits hard and sticks and is unmistakeably the new AiC at it’s best.

‘Last Of My Kind’ starts sounding a little similar to tracks 1 & 2, except for the awesome palm-muted chorous that drops like an executioner’s axe and ups the tempo right when it’s needed most.

However, the track that really shines is the haunting acoustic masterpiece ‘Your decision’ (track 4). Cantrell’s steel stringed tone is immaculate in this song and DuVall’s sings a lot of the song solo, which is really the first time you realise it’s not actually Layne singing.

It’s interesting – DuVall is nowhere near as tortured as Staley was and in some respects it’s a welcome relief, it’s almost like listening to how Staley might have sounded had he bested his demons instead of walking the dark and lonely road he ended up on.

‘Your Decision’ is the kind of acoustic ballad so many other bands fuck up completely. AiC walks the line between heartfelt and sentimental without being whiney and irritating, a welcome change from the purile Nickleback-ish ballads most post-grunge bands write.

 

 

Sadly after that the album starts to suffer from tracks that smack of repetition with the exception of the second acoustic track ‘When The Sun Rose Again’ and the awesome, powerful, driving riff around which ‘Lesson Learned’ is built.

The back end of the album does start to take some shape after a few listens, but generally fails to impress in comparison to the opening four tracks.

Once I’d heard Black Gives Way To Blue a good couple of times, I slipped AiC’s previous eponymous album into my car’s frontloader, turned the volume up and immediately started noticing the differences between the band that was and the band that is.

Although DuVall does a more than adequate job of filling in for Staley, Layne had a far deeper, edgier tone. His quavering, drawling vocals are hypnotic, they can carry and colour an otherwise dreary song, something that DuVall struggles to do on Black Gives Way To Blue’s weaker tracks.

Tracks like ‘Acid Bubble’ and ‘A Looking In View’ just don’t work and sound distinctly like filler to me, which I don’t have a problem with, every album has a certain amount of filler, but in this case the tracks are both roughly 7 minutes long which is the musical equivalent of watching paint dry.

 

 

The lyrical content is still solid though, which I’d wager is because Cantrell had a strong influence in writing it, as he always did, and lines like “You feed the fire that burned us all / When you lied / To feel the pain that spurs you on / Black inside” (from ‘Your Decision’) are vintage AiC.

In closing it must be said that writing this review was no easy task considering the history I have with this band, which is something that most people listening 14 years on probably don’t share, so I’ll put this as simply as I can.

If you’ve never really gotten into Alice In Chains, Black Gives Way To Blue is a great place to start and because no one else out there is playing music like this anymore, it has a very distinctive and different flavour that, if nothing else, should make for some compelling listening.

However, if you know this band, after the sixth or seventh listen to the album you’ll concede that there’s hardly a track on the album that can hold a flame to the raw, powerful AiC classics such as ‘Rooster’, ‘Would’, ‘Them Bones’, ‘Angry Chair’ or ‘Heaven Beside You.’

Provided your hopes aren’t set as high as mine were, you’ll enjoy this album, the band has stayed true to their sound and can still rock out with the best of them and for that I am more than happy to give credit where it is due.

Final Verdict: 8/10

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