For some reason this morning I felt inclined to a little Viking music. This happens a lot, since I love a number of odd Viking and power metal groups from the Scandinavian regions, but I've been in London for the past five weeks and haven't been thinking about music, metal or otherwise, so the dysenteric urge for a little yoiking caught me off-guard.
(Actually, I wasn't listening to Finntroll at all. I was listening to Sonata Arctica, furtively, on a library computer tuned to the sweet strains of "8th Commandment". Of course, my guilt at possibly assaulting the eardrums of innocent passers-by would have been nonexistent if I had just brought my laptop to England, but I didn't, so I'm reduced to looking up music videos and concert clips on Youtube. God bless the Internets.)
Anyhow, my indulgence dredged up memories of a wonderful concert I attended in February of this year. I live in Tampa, Florida, which has its own very special metal scene, and the presence of this scene is sometimes enough to attract really good bands. One really good band who came visiting recently was Sonata Arctica.
Dig if you will a picture: a bony guy in plaid trousers and red-streaked hair belting out lyrics about werewolves, puppets, and Greek goddesses in dog-bothering falsetto, while keytarists, guitarists, bassists, and a drummer who looks like Legolas cavort around the stage. And they're all smiling! They actually look like they're having fun, unlike some bands I could mention but won't because of libel and so forth. Amazing music, amazing stage presence, amazing concert. If possible: a) See Sonata Arctica live b) see Sonata Arctica live in a venue small enough to feel Tony's sweat dripping on your face. Nasty, technically, but oh, so metal.
Face it. A new power couple is in the house. First there was Page and Plant, Jagger and Richards, Bebe and Hammond...and now we have Kakko and Liimatainen. They are electricifying; they are beautiful; they are metal.
(Actually, I wasn't listening to Finntroll at all. I was listening to Sonata Arctica, furtively, on a library computer tuned to the sweet strains of "8th Commandment". Of course, my guilt at possibly assaulting the eardrums of innocent passers-by would have been nonexistent if I had just brought my laptop to England, but I didn't, so I'm reduced to looking up music videos and concert clips on Youtube. God bless the Internets.)
Anyhow, my indulgence dredged up memories of a wonderful concert I attended in February of this year. I live in Tampa, Florida, which has its own very special metal scene, and the presence of this scene is sometimes enough to attract really good bands. One really good band who came visiting recently was Sonata Arctica.
Dig if you will a picture: a bony guy in plaid trousers and red-streaked hair belting out lyrics about werewolves, puppets, and Greek goddesses in dog-bothering falsetto, while keytarists, guitarists, bassists, and a drummer who looks like Legolas cavort around the stage. And they're all smiling! They actually look like they're having fun, unlike some bands I could mention but won't because of libel and so forth. Amazing music, amazing stage presence, amazing concert. If possible: a) See Sonata Arctica live b) see Sonata Arctica live in a venue small enough to feel Tony's sweat dripping on your face. Nasty, technically, but oh, so metal.
Face it. A new power couple is in the house. First there was Page and Plant, Jagger and Richards, Bebe and Hammond...and now we have Kakko and Liimatainen. They are electricifying; they are beautiful; they are metal.
...speaking of Valhalla, wouldn't it be great if they played "Immigrant Song" on a continuous loop while you're waiting in line for the Norway ride at EPCOT?
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