As I waited for the paint to dry, I did things like buy a used $8 Helmet CD (Meantime) at Plan 9. Deya hung around with me for a remarkably long time while the paint dried, considering how boring I was being. Finally though she went off to do some shopping at Barracks Road Shopping Center.
I made some visits to Comet to do e-mail as well as home to make myself some Ramen flavoured with Salsa (it tasted peculiar the first time, last night, but now I like it). Past six, I took a bath. Then I napped until it was time to work.
Despite its repetive nature, I like the Helmet CD I bought today. It came out in 1992, in the heigh-day of grunge. But it is more subtle and rythmically complex than grunge. There are short snatches of strange-meter drum/bass/guitar work on this album that are unequalled in western music for sheer brilliance (I used to find myself thinking similar things about Metallica's Ride the Lightning). The lyrics, however, don't do much for me. I will give Helmet credit for having the most humble presentation in all of rock and roll. Their names are displayed in lower case, with the most significant member, Page Hamilton, mentioned last. There are no photos of band members and no credit given to "fuckin' fans who fuckin' rule" (a mainstay of Pantera and Metallica liner notes).
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