Last night I received a text from a friend that #cultleader was playing at a local art space. I have recently written about missing a doom metal band's performance because I didn't know about the show so after helping put the kids to bed I decided not to add another missed show regret. Cult Leader used to be a band I liked alot named Gaza, some sort of tumultuous drama precipitated a member shift and a re-naming. This record continues to refine the evil sounding prog/hardcore/metal beast of a band's sound. It's like they managed to incorporate all the time signatures and tempo changes into a menacing bad-ass disc. All of them.
I'm the kind of guy that brings money to a show and loves the merch tables. It's like I have access to the most elusive and exclusive cd stores around. This show was no different for me and I read that it was a five band bill which I assumed meant some cool new discs to check out. I was wrong. Usually I feel old at shows because of all the young kids acting self-important and peacock in for each other. I didn't really feel that way this time. This time I felt old and out of touch because all the merch tables were clogged with cassettes. Fucking cassette tapes. The second worst format ever created. There was also a lot of vinyl but I made the executive decision some time ago not to fall down that format's rabbit hole. I refuse to rebuild my finely honed and massive music collection. I've come to accept vinyl, I understand it's attraction and do to a point envy the collectors. Big album art, an armful of treasures with heft as you leave a store or flea market. I get it. Fucking cassettes though? Can you try any harder to be inaccessible and inconvenient? I didn't buy a damn thing. Not because I didn't have money but because I'm out of the loop on this format elitism. So to the band from montreal that sounded like a cool thrash/skate rock/hardcore thing: sorry, I'll never hear you again.
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