My Amazon Marketplace account reminds me of a past girlfriend; it remembers every single detail, no matter how insignificant and constantly recounts the past, primarily against me. To this day I receive notifications from their newsletter, both questioning my recent lack of online activity and actively suggesting albums I should purchase. Maybe I am old fashioned, my understanding of the word purchase implies the physical acquisition of an item. In these ‘enlightened’ times these selections are delivered mainly in the form of downloads. Amazon has realised there is no profit to be made in the physical forms of albums. Like many of its contemporaries it is more inclined to force an overpriced, low quality download into your basket. “Look we can compete with Itunes, buy nine tracks and we will give you one free.” What a deal!

           Lacking the tolerance for Itunes and, in fact everything that precedes the all powerful ‘I’ Often I find myself perusing the second-hand marketplace. It is here you can discover albums for as little as a penny, that is a whole album, a collection of songs and something you can physically own, all yours for the ninety-ninth of the price of one song download.

          I appreciate downloads as much as anyone but it has made music essentially worthless. I cannot even remember the last time I purchased an album from a retailer and aside from inadvertently subscribing to Nokia music for six months, I have never so much as paid for a download. (When negotiating a new mobile contract it is recommended you actually listen to the salesperson and not just smile nod and sign things.) I would rather spend that pound on something that I cannot obtain efficiently and easily. I am just as guilty as the millions of others. We want our music free and less cluttering.

          That being said, I appreciate a bargain. There was a time I would wilfully concede to Amazon’s persistent recommendations, specifically years previous when money could be utilised for such luxuries. In the early days of my internet experience, it was the forerunner for the discovery of many bands I now hold in high regard. It would remember what I had previously purchased and by the following week accumulated another five selections that I, inevitably had difficulty resisting. The ‘one click buy’ option became a dangerous tool and a catalyst for my inability to retain any sort of finance towards the later weeks of the month. Especially, when initially testing the function I accidentally bought a $65 dollar album that I was too embarrassed to return.

          In recent years where my inability to stay in the same residence for more than a year and the accumulation of albums had become something of a burden, purchasing physical copies is something of an extravagance. I own two CD racks in my current residence, both of which are full to capacity. Buying a new CD means a former gets sacrificed to the digital providence, its soul remaining on my hard drive whilst its body is donated to charity, always a difficult decision.

          I have been experiencing recurrent spells of nostalgia recently. The latest relocation allowed time to thoroughly scrutinise my collection. I should add, I own three separate collections. My favourite and sentimental albums always travel with me, the secondary collection stays at my parent’s home and everything else is boxed up at a friend’s house. I am unsure of what I even currently own as the collection has exceeded to the hundreds. I inherited the collector’s mentality from my Dad, whose own extensive vinyl collection has since occupied the space I left within the household when I vacated for pastures new.

          I realised every album has a memory; I could remember when I bought them and what stage of my life I was subsequently in. I felt obliged to return to Amazon, debit card in hand, and see what it had to offer me. I felt a long overdue spending spree on the horizon.

The following albums cost me the grand total of £0.46, minus postage. Here is what I bought.

Sinisstar – Future Shock

Nothing excites me more than an effective play on words. Named Sinisstar as I presume their music to be dark and aggressive, intermittently sinister perhaps? This album was recommended to me as I had previously purchased (although several years previous) a Rob Zombie album. The association here being they are both essentially heavily gimmicked industrial/alternative metal. Without even listening to the album, I made some presumptions.

          This was a band assembled quickly by the record label to capitalise on the burgeoning Nu-Metal scene prevalent in the late 1990’s and early 2000’s. The images of the band resemble something more akin to a cyber goth clothing catalogue or five varying portrayals of the worst aspects of Marylin Manson’s visual repertoire. Still image is not crucial, besides this album was produced by Brendan O’ Brian, producer of two of the greatest albums ever made, Stone Temple Pilots’ Core and Pearl Jam’s Vs. The music may implode my precognitions, like a supernova, bah dum tis.

          Musically, I would not have compared this band to Rob Zombie, except possibly the lead singer’s similar and distinct vocal delivery. Zombie is known more for his B-movie themed influences; lyrically Sinisstar goes predominantly for the angst heavy, ‘no one understands me approach’ namely, the kind of lyrics my teenage self adorned his pencil case with. The lyrics to 'Freak of Nature’ in particular could have been written in less time than the songs duration. They are expletive laden lyrics not really exemplifying any deeper meaning besides attempting to formulate controversy, which by 2002 was pointless, should have mentioned guns instead.

         Again, like the lesser aspects of Marylin Manson, certainly catchy and, undoubtedly well produced but exhibiting little emotion behind the sound. Aside from the lead guitarist who undeniably demonstrates proficiency, integrating guitar solos to a genre seldom acceding, the album sounds like a studio project, far too safe and polished, crafted to appeal to the easiest cultural denominators at the time. If you ever considered yourself a goth, yet were far too ignorant to listen to actual goth music, favouring Marylin Manson or Coal Chamber instead, reconnect with that inner person and you may actually enjoy this.

Don’t just take my word for it though

Skrape – New Killer America

Back in the late nineties it was fashionable for metal bands to either; purposely misspell their moniker or replace the letters with numbers. (See Korn or Sw1tched) Presumably, it marketed the band as edgy and unique, rebelling against the conformities of society, starting with basic literacy.

          I purchased this album purely based upon the front cover. Forget the traditional themes and motifs of Death and Black metal covers, depicting gore, violence and general misanthropy, what we have displayed here is an ingrown toenail. Almost makes the cover of Mayhems’ Dawn of Black Hearts seem almost artistic. (Look it up) I would have like to have been present when this cover was marketed to the band. Whosever decision it was would certainly get an ironic high five from me, smash those preconceptions.

          After the first listen, what I appear to have purchased is the most Nu-Metal album in existence, a true testament to the era. If Richard Patrick from Filter suddenly forgot how to write a song and formed a band adopting all the traditional clichés from the genre namely; poorly rapped verses, generic down tuned riffs and ineffectual electronics, then you have created Skrape. Whilst listening to the album I started playing ‘Guess which band is being emulated here?’ Then conceded and decided to listen to the appropriate superior contemporaries instead.

          With no clear musical identity of their own, what is demonstrated here is something akin to a compilation of rejected b sides from Papa Roach, Taproot and Linkin Park. It made me want to go listen to music that was not steeped in lyrical references to teenage anxiety and demoralization. I have lived through that once already.

Speaking of lyrics, can someone decipher the meaning of these for me please?

 “Son of a soul swingin’ the meat scene, Given the goal breakin’ the porn queen, Kickin’ my hate black and white daydream, Over the bold givin’ up the soul”

Deep metaphysical stuff right there.

This album was one of those, once beloved ‘Enhanced CD’s, meaning that as soon as I placed it in my laptop (five hundred plus CD’s and no CD player) a music video automatically launched and prevented me from operating any other function for around forty five minutes. Whilst I would have normally been incensed and consequently, destroyed something, I was both pacified and amused by the drummers’ revolutionary headwear technique, so ultimately, not a total waste.

To the side and upside down…. this is what the nineties were about.

Full Devil Jacket – Self Titled

This album was recommended to me on the basis that I had at some misguided stage of my life, purchased a Creed album. I quickly audited all the albums I had with me with the full intention of extracting the indiscretion from my collection, with all the intent of a husband clearing his internet history. Alas, I must have seen the error of my ways years previous and disposed of the evidence.

          I was admittedly, an impressionable youth, especially when it came to songs being associated with wrestling. One day ‘Young Grow Old’ is used as the theme for a pay per view and by the end of the week I have accumulated Creed’s entire discography. Damned if I can ever remember listening to it though.

          The reviewers on Amazon compared the album to an intriguing combination of Creed and Godsmack. Musically speaking, Creed are ‘reasonably’ accomplished. I have always had more of a disdain with Scott Stapp’s ridiculous Eddie Vedder impersonation and his pseudo- religious lyrics which often allude to him believing he is the second coming of Christ.

He will cleanse your soul with rock and/or roll

Digressions aside, I can hear the influence, from a purely musical perspective. Yes, certain tracks exhibit a similar diluted grunge approach and disregard all originality, yet there is some surprising variation present, from contemplative acoustic-tinged rock to outright Pantera influenced hardcore. At around track seven my concentration was abated by three continuous filler tracks, but I was gratefully accommodated back into consciousness by the curiously titled ‘Mr Wiggly.’ Even more curious is the songs apparent theme, the lyrics delivered from the perspective of an earthworm consuming a corpse. You can captivate me with your clever metaphors but we both know this song is about a penis.

          Like most of the bands I have discussed Full Devil Jacket became a one album affair. Lead singer Josh Brown suffered an overdose and began devoting his life to Christianity instead. What a horrifying side effect. Drugs are indeed bad.

Dragonlord – Black Wings of Destiny

Black Metal has always been the elusive subgenre for me to appreciate. I have never considered myself a true ‘metalhead’ and during my adolescence, I was very conscious of others opinions of my music taste. For that reason, I often deliberately toned down my preferences to a more accessible selection. (Translation, I pretended to like My Chemical Romance and The Used because the girls did.)

          Behind closed doors and much to my parents disdain. A burgeoning interest in the heavier aspects of metal was developing. We are, of course referring to the kind of ‘heavy’ as described by teenage boys whose primary indication of the word is audibly represented by American Head Charge and Slipknot and therefore obsolete by my current associations of the word.

          It was an appreciation for Bam Margera’s ‘CKY’ videos that introduced me to music that I, initially considered Black Metal, specifically Dimmu Borgir. I purchased the album Puritanical Euphoric Misanthropia without fully understanding what I was committing to. Having only heard the song Puritania which owes more to Industrial than traditional Black Metal, my teenage self was left with buyers remorse, unable to comprehend the complexities and motifs presented, although the inserts did contain images of boobs so not a complete write off.

          Even in my ‘enlightened’ years I am yet to consider myself a fan of anything regarded as Black Metal. However, Amazon remembered my past impetuous purchasing and years down the line is still trying to force the Devil’s music upon me. Maybe Creed are, in fact as universally despised as I imagined, a musical battle between good and evil playing out through my online recommendations.

          Regardless, it suggested Dragonlord. If the name was not inspiring enough, this band boasts the metal pedigree of former members of Cradle of Filth, Testament and Nevermore. Presumptions aside, I dutifully parted with my seventeen pence, believing my matured tastes to have accepted the principles of the genre.

          They have not. To me Black Metal is equal in pomposity and pretentiousness as its Christianity orientated counterpart, both similarly promoting ideologies through music when they should unequivocally be kept separate. Bland erroneous lyrics and poor synthesized orchestration merely validated my teenage assumptions of heavy music. Pass me the Mudvayne album.

So Kvlt

Drown – Hold on the Hollow

I owe to the Duke Nukem videogame ‘Time to Kill’ for my fondness for what is now generalised as Industrial music. The games intro sequence was accompanied by Stabbing Westwards track The Thing I Hate. My teenage self realising that music could be angry without relying on profanity or cargo shorts. I started to focus more on lyrical content and musicianship. Stabbing Westwards lyrics were always inspired by relationships which at the time was something I could never relate to, having never had one. Instead, I appreciated more the atmospheric fusion of rock and electronics.

          This one song introduced me to an entire new genre. Since the Industrial heyday had since passed by the time I discovered it, I recall buying up entire discographies of bands such as Gravity Kills, Ministry and Godhead for mere pence. There was a universal raw sound the music, everything sounded abrasive and dark, unnerving samples, discordant vocals and that similar omnipotent drum sound as if each band had recorded on the same kit, certainly, no references to ‘nookie’ or ‘Oh, ah, ah, ah, ahs here.’ Something new (to me at least)

          I remember almost purchasing this album when I was at the height of my online shopping addiction. I declined when I was unable to download any sample tracks off Limewire and, therefore unwilling to potentially waste my twenty or so pence. I figured I owed it a second chance. Stylistically speaking the bands sound resembles a slightly less eclectic ‘Land of Rape and Honey’ era Ministry, which is fine if a little unoriginal.

          I would hazard a guess that the main lyrical inspiration transpires around the dissolution of a relationship. This album exemplifies itself as angry and bitter, yet exaggerates the usage of clichéd lyrics. For an album to invoke anger in its listener is an accomplishment, the same emotions audibly conveyed through interpretation alone. After listening to the entire album there was no feelings of anger, just tedium and a strange compelling desire to tell the lyricist to 'get over it’ then lighten the mood with a poo joke.

Did you see the movie ‘Constipated’?
No, because it ‘never came out’

           If I were a recording artist, having just gone through a painful separation, the last thing I would do is musically document the entire affair, especially in this instance whereby the lyrics entail deep remorse and jealousy. I would take the moral high ground and instead pen a song about how much I was getting. Now had that been the case; would I have found the album more interesting? Yes, would I have actually enjoyed it? Probably not.