Monday, July 17, 2006

Metallica - For Whom The Bell Tolls

ORIGINATION Ride The Lightning
LAST LISTENED TO a few weeks ago
CHANCE OF WAKING TO IT oh, please
RATING

Jeezy creezy! This is no way to start a week. Still, at least it's better than the last lot of monday morning messes. Those weren'y right.

The Story of Metallica
by Stewart Bremner aged 32 & 3/4
And lo, it came to pass that in the mists of time Large Oilrig, who liked to bang things, did steal the name Metallica off of a mate. Together with Growlin' James Hatstand, who collected facial hair, they made it into a band. They were soon joined by denim-clad Cliff Bellbottoms with his big black bass and Dave Mustard, who tortured guitars. But no one liked Dave and his silly hair and he was told to go away and Kirk Hamster, known far and wide for his widdling, joined them instead. His hair was a bit less silly than mean Mr Mustard's, but only a bit.

At first they were angry, which was no surprise considering they had had Mr Mustard (who had now formed Megadud) in their band. They made an album that was red and had blood and stuff on it. But, as the chicken passes the egg, so they got depressed and proceeded to record an album that was blue and went on a bit. They kept on being depressed for some time after that because Mr Bellbottoms got killed by their tour bus and was replaced by Jason Newkid (who is not the newkid any more, because the others never really liked him and he left).

After they had been depressed for long enough, during which time they made an album about a cemetery and then a grey one that also went on a bit, they went pop but that made the little girls cry. Soon they got angry again, this time because of nu-metal being rubbish and because of the internet. After making their most recent album (which went on a bit too), they found Bobby Truepillow, who had won the All-American Gurning Championships for four years in a row in the early ninties and could play the bass with his knees and they made him join their band. And lived happily ever after.


For Who The Bell Tolls is one of the best bits moments on Ride The Lightning (the blue album), which can be a bit too angst ridden for me and my dog. It goes like this: argh! the bells! the bells! the riffage! Riff riff riff riff. Widdly widdle widdle. Was that something about war? Who's to say? Riff riff riff riff. Riff riff riff riff. Riff riff riff riff. Riff riff. For whom the bell tolls. Riff riff riff riff. Riff riff riff riff. Riff riff riff riff. Time marches on. Riffs. Squeal, squeal. Widdle thump thump. Bong bong bong.

It's very hot tonight, you know.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Of course what we all forget is that Cliff Thorburn staged his own death in nineteen-eighty-someting in order to get out of the band and pursue a successful career as a hairy international snooker player.

Unknown said...

I think you're thinking of Cliffolas Witchell, who actually played daytime games with that woman with the teeth. Ester something or the other.