Shirt Stains: Heavy Metal BBQ
Grill ‘Em All. Grilling Is My Business…And Business Is Good! GRILL. There, that’s a few metal albums with “kill” replaced with grill. Well done. Heh. Get it? Yeah, you got it. We’re really cooking now.
We’re in the middle of grilling and barbecuing season. You’ve got your wood or charcoal or whatever it is you prefer to scorch your animal flesh. Perhaps a dry rub. Maybe a wet if you prefer. Don’t forget the sides. And yes, you need to eat some vegetables too. Potato salad and corn doesn’t count. Sounds like you’re all set. Well, almost. You couldn’t possibly have a BBQ without letting everyone know what metal bands you listen to, right?
When I think of Opeth, an apron does not come to mind. Perhaps it should. Maybe when they were singing Hope Leaves, the meant that it leaves stains on your fancy button-down shirt. It would be a real Burden to clean it. The outlook is Bleak if you don’t blot it with club soda. Don’t use Nectar, that will make it worse. It would take a Sorceress to get this out. Just imagine the Face Of Melinda When you have to make a Deliverance to the cleaners. She may act like a real Goblin so you’d better Slither Under The Weeping Moon and make Atonement for ruining your clothes. Umm…Ingen Sanning Är Allas.
As their sound continues to evolve, Soilwork have recently moved further away from their Gothenburg melo-death sound to become The Night Flight Soilworkestra. Consider that a my review of their upcoming album Övergivenheten. Did someone replace Soilwork with a bunch of suburban dads? I suppose the passage of times makes all of us our parents. I only ask because they’ve put out a bunch of grilling merch like these official Soilwork oven mitts.
Grilling The Drama. Ha. That’s cute. A clever play on their Stabbing The Drama album. An album, I may remind you, that came out in 2005. Yes, they’re putting out merchandise for an album that’s old enough to drive. Sure, that’s never stopped other bands before, it just seems kind of…random? I guess there’s people out there that consider that to be their best album (Natural Born Chaos is better, fight me) so it’s a possible attempt to capitalize on youthful nostalgia. Or they just really like the wordplay and cooking up some Värmlandskorv during Summer Holiday.
Mate. Feed. Grill. Repeat. You don’t want to be pushing your fingers into chicken thighs. That would be unsanitary and kinda yucky. Thankfully, Slipknot has seen fit to slap their late 90’s-rific ‘S’ logo on to a trio of barbecue utensils. Sure, you could go to Target or a Bed Bath & Beyond and pick up better quality turners, forks, and tongs for roughly the same price, but how else would you let your gets know that you’re a Maggot? Clown, you’ve done it again!
Of course you can’t have a raging BBQ blowout with some dinnerware. Honey! We’ve got guests coming over. Get out the good dishes. No, not the WCW plate! The Pope isn’t coming over. Use the Carcass Torn Arteries porcelain plate. Oh, and don’t forget the stainless steel fork and knife that came with their box set. We’re not going to eat with our hands like animals. The real question you must ask yourself (besides “Why?”) is do you eat vegetables or meat off this? You’re in a real (Corporal Jigsore) quandary with that one. Sure, you could say both, or just steer clear of the whole situation and scoop on a big helping of mashed potatoes instead.
After all that fatty meat and salty sides, you’ll need something to wash it down. Sure, some people would imbibe the endless number of metal band-branded beers out there, but not you. You’re a classy metalhead, not like those other heathens. You want to be a good host and break out the fancy stuff. They’re your guests and they deserve the best with Slayer’s Reign In Blood Red wine. Made from the finest puddles of Jägermeister and the sourest grapes, this cabernet pairs well with burnt meat, facial tattoos, and restraining orders. This moderately-priced vino will tickle your tastebuds as you struggle to get through their cover of Born To Be Wild and read cringe through Tom Araya’s Instagram posts. Pinkies up, Dittoheads.