Fallen

I’m so tired I literally have tires growing out of my body, but that’s no excuse for not penning a mediocre review of Burzum’s Fallen CD, so here:

With his second post-prison release, Burzum murders the competition, slashes away at convention and burns down all signs of

This album sounds just like all the other free range Burzum albums, but with three important upgrades:
1) Vocalist Varg Vikernes augments his trademark ethereal screaming with deep, uninteresting singing.
2) Guitarist Count Grishnackh augments his trademark high-speed strumming and arpeggios with Western metal riffs and guitar interplay.
3) Songwriter Kristian Larsson Vikernes augments his Burzum-by-numbers musical clichés with some of the ugliest high-end horseplay he’s ever composed.

It’s a shame that this talented trio of one couldn’t pull together for a late-period rally in the album department; perhaps another nickname would’ve made all the difference. In fact, from now on, I’m going to claim all the good parts were performed by “Stinky McGee.”

I don’t know for sure that Stinky McGee has been listening to western metal, but it certainly seems so based on moments like the Sabbathy intro to “Enhver til sitt” and Metallica-style verse riff of “Valen” (which you’d think would sound like Van Halen, but whatevs). It’s in steamrolling metal moments like these that Fallen rises above its retro-Burzum trappings, particularly in the two longest and most metallic songs on the record: aforementioned “Valen” whips together a virtual Viking Boat of metal riffage and epic leads, and the longer-than-ten-minutes “Budstikken” will have your head banging even if it’s on a stake outside some guy’s castle. It TEARS the MEMBRANE out of my ASS!

No wait, that’s a hemorrhoid.

Here are some recent Facebook statuses to keep you grounded in reality:

A couple of my Facebook friends have declared today "Billy Joel Day." In celebration, I've decided to wrap my car around a tree.

Mark Prindle tonight won 2 of 3 "music trivia" rounds because he's a genius (loser), and then sang "The Final Cut" at karaoke because he's cool (a loser).

Mark Prindle would like to wish all of you a Happy Valentine's Day Massacre.

Mark Prindle would like to wish a Happy Valentine's Day to my eight Grass Roots albums. Even the ones that are terrible. I'm lookin' at YOU, 1982's "Powers of the Night"!!!!

Mark Prindle would like to wish a happy President's Day to my fellow Kenyan-born Socialist Muslims. We did it! Allahu Akbar! Religion is the opium of the masses!

Mark Prindle has Guided By Voices' "I Am A Tree" stuck in his head. But I'm glad it's stuck there and not in my foot. Because who the hell wants a song stuck in their foot? Not me. I'll tell you that right now.

Mark Prindle, adding color, has joined a group of anonymous Latin American meatpacking glitterati. DID I EXPECT US TO TREAT ME WITH ANY RESPECT!?

Mark Prindle has a great idea for saving the music industry: bring back CD longboxes. People loved them, and they were also great for keeping the tree population under control.

Mark Prindle really wouldn't mind having REM's "Maps & Legends" stuck in his head right now if only his brain would stop singing it as "I took craps on legends."

Mark Prindle last night watched the first Super Bowl of his career. Do they always have a special part in the middle for the mentally retarded?

Mark Prindle doesn't want anybody to get jealous and feel bad, but I own 13 Foghat albums.

Mark Prindle apparently turned off his alarm clock without waking up, and wound up arriving at work two hours late. Employers like that, right? "Sleeping outside the box"?

Mark Prindle is so sleepy that he's about to fall asleep on his "Z" key. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Mark Prindle didn't realize that Facebook was a Zuckerberg creation. I loved "Airplane."

Mark Prindle just beat his girlfriend in a big way. But it was revenge for her kicking my ass last night. Incidentally, I'm talking about Scrabble.

Mark Prindle as a young boy wrote a parody of The Beatles' "Taxman" entitled "Milkman." First verse: "I am a milkman, I bring you your milk/And with the money you give me, you buy all my silk." Paul Weller, eat your heart out. (Literally. Because you're terrible.)

Mark Prindle, in tribute to Jack LaLanne, just ate a second doughnut.

Mark Prindle is hitting the town tonight for some Ping-Pong Ball. I haven't played Ping-Pong Ball since I was a young boy, so don't get mad at me if I hit you with my Ping-Pong Ball.