4. What The Hell Happened To The New Wintersun Album?
Wintersun’s 2004 eponymous debut album was a progressive-technical-power-melodic-black-epic-folk-shred masterpiece and rightly won legions of die hard fans worldwide. Naturally there was incredible pressure to follow it up with something of equal majesty, something that would take an already incredible blueprint and multiply it thousand fold until it created a black hole of pure, supermassive genius. All was going well as mastermind Jari Maenpaa went to Sonic Pump studios in Helsinki to begin the recording sessions for the second album, tentatively (and ironically) called Time.
Once, maybe twice a year came an update, like the mad ramblings of a maniac ensconced on a private island constructed from his own shit. Initially they were positive, talking about slight delays but mentioning that it would be a concept album that would take up the entire possible run time of a CD. Then came the broken computer issue, where files were lost. Then came the revelation that no computer existed that could hold the genius of the songs he was creating. Eventually, he got so sick of posting weird, mystical updates about delays that, rather than creating one about how he was defeated at chess by an evil wizard who forced him to hand over what recordings he had, he just said ‘fuck it, it’ll be ready when it’s ready’, possibly while stroking his enormous cornflake-encrusted beard and doing a little jig. Since then there has been nothing, though fans still wait.
It could be that it will surface soon, but the truth is far more terrifying…
It will never come out, at least not for another 10 years. It is quite clear that the album is now stuck in limbo, with no release that can possibly live up to expectation after so long. From our investigations, we conclude that when it surfaces it will be called Finnish Democracy and Jari Maenpaa will resurface looking hideously bizarre; with braided hair, lycra cycling shorts and a strange, cat-like face following botched cosmetic surgery. He will then begin a hate/hate relationship with his fans, no-showing most gigs that he has booked, and just taking a musical shit on the rest, before literally disappearing up his own anus.
3. How Come Dave Mustaine’s Hair Hasn’t Aged At All In Almost 30 Years?
One of the most enduring mysteries of all time was surely deserving of our investigation. For decade after decade the Megadeth mastermind has straddled the hair world with his mighty strawberry blonde mane, undiminished by years of alcohol and heroin abuse and unbowed by advancing age. Some people believe he is lucky, that he has been blessed with a hugely powerful head of hair, or that he uses a unique blend of shampoos and conditioners in order to maintain that volumised masterpiece. The truth however, is far more chilling…
It is a little known fact that Dave Mustaine is a firm believer in stem cell technology, and has carried out some covert work into genetics in an underground facility in Nevada. Driven by an obsession with having the most beautiful hair in thrash and after many years of painstaking research and countless experiments on tramps, Dave now has a bank of clone hair donors stored in his private cryogenic facility.
Of course, this sort of technology does not come cheap, and as such Mustaine was forced to go to extraordinary measures to pay for this hair-maintaining research, releasing a series of ever more bizarrely mainstream albums throughout the 90s in the hope they would bring in the money that he was pouring into his cloning work. Only now can we reveal that the profits from Breadline made his hair 8% more luxurious.
2. What Happened To The Drummer From Def Leppard’s Arm?
Def Leppard are arguably more famous for their one-armed drummer than for their incredible, diamond-selling party tunes. Which is wrong, but understandable… Having lost his arm in a car accident on New Years Eve 1984, he made an incredible comeback, using a heavily modified kit to produce the outrageously electronic drumbeats that made Hysteria so ridiculously catchy. A remarkable tale, no doubt, but the untold story that accompanies it is far, far more terrifying…
This answer is stranger than fiction. It is widely known that attempts to re-attach Rick Allen’s arm failed in 1985 after the arm refused to heal properly. What people don’t know is that the arm made a conscious decision to remain alone, having become increasingly disillusioned with the more restrained direction Def Lep’s music had been taking since High and Dry. It evaded being captured and incinerated as medical waste, instead travelling from town to town and subsisting on the modest income that it brought in as a member of a number of Yorkshire jazz combos.
Stranger than that, however, is what happened next. Fate had something far more bizarre in store for both the arm and for music in general. Feeling jaded with the life of a jobbing jazz drumming arm, and wanting to try his hand at technical death metal, Allen’s appendage made the move across the Atlantic, heading through Canada and making ends meet giving handjobs to lonely Ice Road Truckers. Eventually the arm grew weary of being alone and in 1991 made his way to a Montreal hospital. Inside was a young amputee called Florent, whose burgeoning dreams of being the drummer in a sell-out deathcore crew were shattered by a tragic industrial accident. Feeling a common bond with the young amputee, the arm offered itself up as a graft, choosing to utilise the new host as the key to his drumming future. For the next 16 years, Rick Allen’s arm was none other than Flo Mounier, controlling his Canadian host through sheer will of drumming power.
Sadly, in 2008, Flo Mounier underwent a psychological intervention, regaining full control of body and mind from the powerful limb, and was now even more determined to play piss poor breakdowns and incorporate the singing choruses he’d subconsciously been writing while Rick Allen’s arm wrote None So Vile. The result was The Unspoken King and a black day for metal.
1. How Come Metallica Haven’t Released A Good Album Since 1988?
It’s common knowledge that Metallica are a joke now. Many people put this down to a lack of desire or hunger after so much early success, that the band that released Load/Reload and St. Anger were simply too pampered and ingrained in the mainstream to ever recapture the early creative fire that made them the biggest name in metal during the mid 80’s. People say their association with Bob Rock meant they dispensed of the progressive elements that were so key to their sound, and some say that they never truly recovered from the death of Cliff Burton.
The truth, however, is far more horrifying…
The truth is, Cliff wasn’t the only one that died on that September night in Sweden when Metallica’s tour bus crashed. In fact, the entire band perished in the incident.
In a blind panic, the band’s management and record label hatched a plan. A dastardly plan inspired by the one that the Beatles had used 20 years earlier when Paul McCartney had died in a car accident – they would replace the band members with doppelgangers and continue. With such a hot musical property on their hands, the label executives just HAD to wring some more money out of it before the truth came out.
In the short term this appeared to work; even the fact that they couldn’t find a suitable Cliff Burton lookalike and had to make do with that bloke from Flotsam & Jetsam had been swallowed hook, line and sinker by the fans, press and public. They also had a load of unreleased material from prior album recording sessions that they arranged and released as …And Justice For All – though as these were rough demos the production was poor. Again, this potentially fatal flaw was successfully passed off with a paper-thin excuse – blame Flemming Rasmussen. Everything was going to plan.
Then, after the ‘band’ had finished touring …And Justice For All (miming, of course), they faced the problem of coming up with yet more material to satisfy their ever growing fanbase. There were only a handful of riffs and song segments left, so they hired the hottest producer of the moment to sew what little they had into a coherent body of work. Again, they struck lucky, and ‘Metallica’s self-titled album was a smash, as critics and morons wanked over the boring, one-dimensional, one paced tunes within.
The shady cabal’s luck was to run out, however. Even with 5 years to write and record new material, the doppelgangers (and an increasingly confused Jason Newsted) could only produce Load and Reload. Even with all the industry songwriting help that the record label provided, they could only produce tracks like Fuel and Mama Said. Even worse was the discovery that, even after years of vocal training, Hetfield’s doppelganger was only capable of crooning ‘Whoaaaa-Yeaaaahh’ a lot and had a bad habit of adding a slurred ‘eeeaaahhhh’ noise on to the end of each word he sang. The resulting albums were a disaster, as was the poor decision to let Fred Durst write 2003’s St. Anger.
When ‘Metallica’ tried to recapture their thrash sound with Death Magnetic, it was the last embarrassing nail in a once great bands coffin. The sound of 3 eager but ultimately talentless lookalikes (and that guy from Suicidal Tendencies) attempting to copy the best work of one of the most exceptional, yet tragically short lived bands in existence was only ever going to end in disaster. Hopefully, now the truth is revealed, they will put this ridiculous charade to bed once and for all.